Nice Night
Angelina twirled around in front of the mirror in her sixth year dormitory.
"Hold still!" Alicia giggled, trying to grasp one of Angelina's wrists as she spun in circles. Finally fastening fingers around her skinny wrists, Alicia pulled Angelina closer to her. Angelina beamed at her best friend, positively glowing.
"Did you see me in that mirror? Oh, Alicia! I look quite pretty!" Angelina was bursting with girlish happiness, something she often looked upon before as silly and shallow. Now, on the night of the Yule Ball, she did not care how feminine she acted.
Alicia, still giggling, nodded, smoothing down the top of Angelina's hair.
"You can thank me whenever you want," she smiled, "I know Fred will once he sees you." Alicia looked devilish, almost taunting Angelina in the way that girls often do when enjoying themselves too much.
Angelina normally would have thrown a pillow at Alicia, but was afraid that she would retaliate and mess up the hairdo Angelina worked so hard on.
She looked at herself once more in the mirror, smoothing her hands over her robes. They were a mixture between orange and yellow, the exact shade of the natural highlights in Fred Weasley's hair. The summery colors warmed her dark skin, brightened her eyes. Angelina made sure each loose curl was perfectly shaped. Her hair fell down her back, half up and half down.
"Oh, go find Fred!" Alicia and the other girls in the dorm laughed at her. Angelina hurried across the room to grab a pillow from her own bed. She tossed it lightly at Alicia, and bounded out of the room before any pillow could hit her in return.
Still laughing, Angelina walked down the stone stairs. Her heart was beating because she knew that Fred was going to be there, waiting for her, with his smile on his face. Before walking down the last bend of the staircase, she slowed her steps, walking more gracefully than she ever had before. Slowly, the common room made itself visible as she rounded the bend, and Angelina was taken aback by all the different colored robes that met her gaze.
Her eyes glanced around the room and then, with a slight gasp, she saw him. Fred was standing with George, of course, and they were wearing matching, slightly outdated robes of deep red. As she expected, Fred had his smile which burst into a full grin when he laid his eyes on Angelina. He motioned for her to come over, running his large hand through his already unruly hair.
Without taking her eyes off of Fred, she made her way through the crowd. Her heart beat wildly, and she knew she had to look flushed. But the closer she got to Fred, the less her heart beat from nerves and the more it beat from excitement.
"George, wouldn't you say that the colors of her robes are quite familiar?" Fred noted, appearing to be thoughtful, when Angelina reached them.
"Why, yes. They do seem to have a rather Weasley-esque air about them," George agreed, grinning wickedly. Angelina poked her tongue at them, all femininity forgotten. George laughed at her antics and then went to greet Alicia who had finally come downstairs herself.
Angelina watched George greet her jovially, and smiled as Alicia mirrored his image. That is, until Fred's banter brought her back to him.
"Angelina, you had to have been thinking of me when you bought these," Fred smirked at her, raising his eyebrows slightly.
"What makes you think I was thinking of you? What if I was thinking about George?" She replied, crossing her arms.
"Because if you had been thinking of George, you would have come to the Ball with him instead," Fred answered simply.
Angelina laughed, unable to deny his way of thinking, however vain it was. Fred looked her up and down with a mock critical eye.
"You are the second best person in that color though, I must say."
"Oh?" Angelina shot back, already knowing the answer to her question. "And who's the first?"
"Me."
As she laughed, the smirk on his face changed to a genuine smile.
"You really do look nice, Angie," he told her, speaking more gently then than he had all day. His bright blue eyes searched her own dark ones, and she knew it was more than just a line.
Feeling slightly flustered, Angelina changed the tone back to one of light joking.
"So do Weasleys dance as well as they joke?" she challenged Fred.
"It's the third best thing we do. After joking and eating."
And with that he led her through the passage way to the hallway. They linked arms and walked to the Great Hall, laughing the whole way.
Angelina found that Fred was not the good dancer that he apparently thought he was. His moves were as wild as his hair. His feet would fly out from under him and he would swing his head around, swishing his hair back and forth. Angelina couldn't breathe for laughing, and he grabbed her arms and pulled her about just as erratically. Soon, George and Alicia joined their twosome and the group made quite a commotion.
Finally, after Professor McGonagall reprimanded their hap hazardous dancing, Fred and Angelina went outside to cool off while George and Alicia went for something to drink.
"I can't believe you almost hit McGonagall! What were you doing with your arms, anyway?" Angelina asked, thinking back on his comical move. Fred chortled some, obviously picturing her witch's hat toppling off her head.
"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time."
"And now?"
"Still a good idea."
Angelina snorted and shook her head, her curls swishing. Fred smiled at her, and fingered one of her curls. In an instant, the mood changed from playful to… Well, Angelina didn't know. The feeling she got when she and Fred calmed down enough to be serious was indefinable.
She watched him play with her hair. Still focused on her black hair, his eyes were so bright compared to her own almond eyes. His hair was slightly damp with sweat and sticking up more than ever off his pale skin. The robes that had been neat when the evening started were now disheveled. Each freckle on his face was visible, even in the dim light of the grounds. Angelina could smell his scent, something like cologne, soap, and smoke from his experiments with George. Keeping her eyes on him, she listened to the music coming from inside the building. She didn't want this to go away.
Still toying with her hair, Fred looked up to see Angelina watching him. He grinned, and she knew the grin was only for her.
"Nice night for it, eh?" he commented, airly, never taking his eyes off of Angelina.
She assumed he was talking about the weather and grounds and she looked around. It was a clear night, stars dotted the sky. Since it was December, it was of course cold, but not in an unbearable way, but in a risk, refreshing way. Fairies played in the bushes nearby, and the music in the Great Hall was blanketing over them.
Angelina wasn't sure what aspect to point out first, so she just nodded slightly and made a noise of agreement in the back of her throat. She just felt so calm, leaning into the arms of her best friend, looking out at the Christmas night. He pulled her even closer to his chest, making her warmer than she had ever felt in her life. So warm and relaxed that she shut her eyes contentedly and didn't notice his face coming closer and closer to her own.
It wasn't until Fred was actually kissing her that Angelina sputtered, pushing away.
"What, what was that? I mean, why did you…?" Angelina trailed off, feeling much younger than sixteen.
"Well," Fred started slowly, "I said it was a nice night for it. And you agreed." The smile on his face was so proud, like he had just accomplished a task he had been trying to master for weeks.
"I thought you were talking about the Yule Ball! I thought you said it was a nice night for the Yule Ball!" Angelina felt entirely confused; her expression must have been amusing for he started to laugh quietly.
"Fooled you. I meant it was a nice night for a kiss," he responded, quite cheekily. He took advantage of her speechlessness, her lack of any sort of witty comeback, and swooped down to kiss her once more.
They stayed kissing in the garden for what seemed like far too short a time before they overheard an irate Snape.
"And that will be five points each, Mr. Weasley and Miss Johnson. What sort of a night do you think this is?"
With a laugh, "Mr. Weasley" and "Miss Johnson" turned tail, escaping Snape before he took any other points from Gryffindor.
"A nice night!" Angelina cried over her shoulder to the retreating form of the Potions Master. Running and laughing, Fred turned to look at her.
He grinned, and she knew the grin was only for her.
Dedicated to Fred, who will never get a chance to read this. Also, dedicated to Angelina, who won't read this because it will break her heart.
This was originally written as a flashback in my soon-coming fic about what happens after Fred dies. But, as you can see, it was too long. So it is now a sweet, cute story about the untold romance between the Prankster and his Angel.