The twins sat on George's bed in the seventh-year dormitory, filling owl orders for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The curtains around the bed were drawn out of habit. Percy used to sneak around to catch them at things he could write home about. Even though he was gone, they were still used to doing their most important work in secret. Fred packed the ordered items (mostly Skiving Snackboxes and trick wands) and handed them to George, who addressed them. George had better handwriting.
They worked in silence, which was most unlike them. The only sound in the almost-deserted dormitory was the breeze ruffling the pages of Lee's open Transfiguration book on his bed.
Finally, yawning, Fred stuffed three Fainting Fancies and a Puking Pastille into the last box and glanced at his brother's work. "What did Angelina order?" he asked, noticing their teammate's name on a small box on top of the pile. "And why did she owl order it when we see her every day?"
George looked at the box and gave a start. "Oh, that - must have - everybody makes mistakes - wrote it wrong..."
Fred sized up his twin's vacant expression and came to an important realization. "I know what you mean," he said casually. "When I'm writing, sometimes I accidentally write what I'm thinking instead of what I mean." He smiled as he saw George flush, knowing his hunch had been right, but continued as though he had seen nothing. "Once I was trying to finish a History of Magic essay, and I meant to say Elfric the Educated had a private army, but I was thinking about our next match against Slytherin, so I said he had a slimy, cheating little git for a Seeker." He chuckled. "Didn't catch that one until Binns handed my paper back, actually."
"Aw, shut up," George said, annoyed but too preoccupied to do anything more than halfheartedly complain.
"What?" Fred said, feigning confusion.
"Sorry," George muttered. "Not feeling myself today."
Fred gave him another calculating look. "Here is my expert diagnosis. You, brother, are suffering from what is known in the medical field as being madly in love."
George shrugged. "How'd you know."
"My dear boy, weren't you paying attention when I was telling an anecdote of my own experiences? In both cases, we wrote what we were thinking about instead of what we meant. I was thinking of Malfoy, so I wrote 'slimy, cheating little git' instead of 'private army'. You were thinking of Angelina, so you wrote her name instead of whoever's name it was supposed to be."
"So what if I am?" George slumped against the headboard.
"So what?" Fred said, stretching out on the bed. "So I want to know how you plan to win fair maiden's heart."
"I'm not." George continued, ignoring Fred's protests. "I don't have a chance. She...she's pretty, she's smart, she's Quidditch captain. If I wasn't a Beater she wouldn't know I existed."
"But she does; that's the thing," Fred said encouragingly. "Come on, give it a shot. She likes you just fine already. All she needs is a little nudge and you two will be the hot couple of seventh year."
"She likes us just fine, you mean," George said. "Those Weasley twins with their pranks and their clever trick sweets. She doesn't like George Weasley, just as he is." For once, Fred didn't fire off another witty retort. He gave George a chance to get it all out of his system. "Even if she liked one of us as he is, it'd be you. You're the funny, outgoing one who comes up with the brilliant ideas and sells them to everybody. You're the one who gets us out of trouble. I'm just here to back you up," he finished bitterly.
"Listen here," Fred said. "Maybe I'm funny and outgoing, but I'm nothing without you. If you didn't have my back, do you think I could put our plans into action? Not a chance. I talk, but you give me things to say and the guts to say them. Alone, I'd never have got the Marauder's Map. I'd never have filled those wizard crackers with ignited Dungbombs at Christmas second year. (George gave a half-smile at the memory of Snape's face when one exploded at the High Table.) I'd never have developed Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It's because of you all those great things happened. I'm a twin. If I didn't have you, I'd be lonely little Fred Weasley, who has good ideas but is too scared to do anything with them."
"And without you, I'd be shy little George Weasley who never talks to anyone and trips over his words when he does. And that's who I'll be if I ask Angelina out."
"Don't make me laugh! Listen, there's a reason Angelina disappeared halfway through the Yule Ball, and it's definitely not because she thought you were me. Give it a shot, and if it goes wrong I'll perform a Memory Charm so she can't remember it. And if that goes wrong (which it may, since I've never done one), and she has no memory, tell her you're her boyfriend and it'll work out anyways."
George laughed. "Alright, I will. But no Memory Charms. I don't trust you, and I want a Quidditch captain who remembers what a Quaffle is once I'm through."