Summary: A witch that fell in love, simply, with the idea of twins—people that had mischief together, and always acted as a pair, and were always, no matter what, Fred and George, the duo—of having a mother that cooked food and washed dishes with barely looking at the tasks, and of being with people that liked her. A witch that had a father, but there was always a small missing fragment that she never quite understood or found until making friends.
And my Harry Potter fic comes to life after so long! This hasn't been thought out as greatly as a few I am already working on (i.e. my Young Justice one like man that one), but I plan on keeping it as happy as possible, only dwelling on sadness in the last book and during Claire's fourth year at school, along with a few bits around her fifth. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright of Harry Potter, and, therefore, only write with the gaining of joy from words, not money.
Her first year at Hogwarts was bland, only broken by the small burst of excitement a pair of twins gave her when they extracted the young girl from the Common Room couch. Claire would be lying if she said she regretted taking that feather from Charms class, or that she didn't find her small adventure exciting.
The fluttering of a feather up in the air, boosted by the wave of a wand and quiet, was followed by almost nonexisting whispers of, "Wingardium Leviosa." A simple task to keep Claire's mind clear of school tasks that she was ignoring.
That simple task of waving her wand was shattered by a hand, shooting out from nowhere and catching the feather, pinching it with two fingers easily. A face with freckles and flaming red hair moved into her vision. The face asked, "Did you steal that feather from Charms class?" The head twisted the feather between his fingers as if he was amused. Claire moved to sit up on the couch, turning to see a second head, identical down to the last freckle, standing on the other side of the couch.
"I think she did, Fred," the other said, brown eyes flickering over to the one called Fred.
"Must we report a First Year to Professor Flitwick?" Fred questioned.
"I think stealing requires the Headmaster's attention, don't you?"
"Hmm..." Fred tapped a finger on his chin, feigning deep thought, before finishing. "Where would the fun be in that?"
"True. But doesn't the girl need punishing for her crime?" Fred shook his head, twisting the feather in his fingers absentmindedly.
"Hmm...what to do, what to do."
"Shouldn't we give the poor girl back her stolen feather?" A few moments passed of Fred twisting the stolen item and examining it, as if he was weighing the value of the object. All the while, Claire didn't move, didn't stand in defiance to get the light object back from the Second Years; she just watched as the two exchanged glances. She'd even dropped her wand on the floor from the initial arrival of the boys.
"I don't see any fun in that, actually, George."
"You're right, Fred."
"Should we give the First Year a tour of the castle, then?"
Her voice came out weak, almost as if it wasn't really being used. "I don't think that would be fun."
The twins looked at her, a bit surprised that she was speaking. "She speaks?"
"Of course I speak!" she exclaimed, moving to grab the feather from Fred. She was too slow, and he only grinned down at her. Claire was glad that everyone else was at lunch or in the library, because if anyone was here, watching this spectacle, she'd be as red as the apple she ate at breakfast.
"So you don't want to see the secret tunnels?" George offered, eyes looking down at her while she still sits on the couch.
"What do you mean secret tunnels?"
"Exactly what he says. I bet you didn't know that there were secret tunnels all over this school." That was Fred, but she didn't know how she could tell them apart.
"Well, I know that the stairs change and you can get lost easily," Claire replied, and she didn't realize how stupid that sounded until it fell off her lips.
"First Years! George, I tell you, all First Years have no sense of fun or direction!" Fred nearly yelled, turning around and putting his arms in the air. The two turned toward the door, signaling their goodbye without a word, and were halfway to it when she grabbed her wand and climbed the sofa to run in front of them.
The corridor was narrow, and she wondered how she had squeezed around the two so fast, but the thought was lost as she said, "I'll go. I mean, I want to go." The wand was tight in her hand. Upon realizing that, she slipped it into her robes.
"You're going to miss class."
"Could get caught too." One of the two grinned at that, but she shook her head.
"I don't care."
"You're not getting your feather back," Fred stated, and said feather was already gone, probably hidden in the boy's robes.
"I don't care about that either." The feather was just a ploy to busy her mind while everyone was away and her homework finished, anyway. And the fact that she was going to miss class was lost on the endless corridors and halls and dodging of teachers that the twins inevitably promised.
"The map, George?"
"The map, Fred." They almost said it together, but she noticed the small nod George gave, the nod that he did have this map and that they were going to use it to guide them, or so she thought, because she never actually saw them take it out beside passing it around. Claire almost asked about the map, but thought better of it. George handed said mysterious map to Fred, who nodded and they whisked in front of her and she followed like a dog trailing behind its owner.
"What's your name?" George finally asked as they walked through the eerily quiet halls and down twisting staircases.
"Claire."
"George." And he placed his hand in front of him for her to shake. She took it hesitantly, but still shook his big hand. "That's Fred."
"I noticed." Silence. "What year are you two?" The two continue walking when she asked the question, and she struggled to keep up with their long legs.
"Seconds." That one was Fred instead of George, and she wondered why they acted so fluidly together, like they were the same being. Their walk resembled each others too. How strange.
But she realized they were twins and that was to happen. Anyway, the adventure of this weird map and the long corridor they were now in overwhelmed the fact that they were twins. They were on the fifth floor now, swooping down hall after hall and she pondered where they were going. But, before she could open her mouth to ask the question, they stopped in front of a statue of Gregory the Smarmy. He was a potion maker and wiggled his way into King Richard's court and stole money, or something like that; she couldn't exactly remember all the details she read about him.
"What are we doing?" Claire questioned.
"Secret tunnel."
"We found it our first week of school."
"With the map?" she asked again.
"Without the map," Fred said, and she remembered it was him because he stood in front of the trio, fiddling with something behind the statue. "Wanna go?" He pointed the question at her, because yeah, Fred and George wanted to go. They were always up for an adventure. But her? She didn't know. An adventure was all new in a sense to her. Adventure was fighting monsters in her backyard at age six. Adventure was leaving the Common Room with two strange Second Years and following them down a series of corridors that were all a blur.
Adventure was nodding at this redheaded boy and stepping first into the narrow corridor. Adventure was this and she accepted it wholly and ready for whatever lay down the hall.
Nobody said anything as Claire lead the way down the long tunnel, and she was sure they'd left her if not for the footsteps they made. Quiet. It was too quiet in this hall. She didn't dare say anything, and was sure it was a dead end before she came up to a door. A door that was cold and wet and she wished she'd brought her gloves.
"Push," one of the twins said, and she followed the order. And she pushed against the wet door until the first streak of light from something besides their wands fell upon the ground. And then snow. Snow fell into the hall and splatted onto her shoes. The blonde didn't jump back in surprise because there was no real surprise needed.
"It lead outside," she murmured, because that hall was definitely long enough to lead outside. And the stairs they took down in the hall felt long enough that they made it to the ground floor.
"Cool, huh?"
"Cool, yeah," she breathed, her breath misting in front of her. She turned to look at the twins, one of whom was smiling and the other whom was leaning against the moist wall. And she pulled the door shut when the command came and followed the two back up the stairs.
When they emerged from the tunnel, people billowed around the halls, talking about classes and what they planned to do for the coming holidays. When Claire turned around to say something to the twins, they were gone, and the smile they gave her when she opened the door burned in her mind. She couldn't help but grin herself, and made her way back toward Gryffindor Tower to gather her things for her next class.