Edited; 12/24/08
Fred was dead.
She closed her eyes, refusing to believe what her very senses told her. The years of laughing alongside him, witnessing his grand schemes fall into place, (oh Merlin, what about all those years of loving him?), they couldn't have been for naught. A wry smile formed on her lips as she half expected Fred to pop up from behind Peeves, another prank for them all.
Because, after all, Fred couldn't be dead. The git had told her he wouldn't let that happen; actually, he didn't promise he wouldn't die, just promised to be careful, (after fucking hexing him for the damned words to come out of his mouth and later lying, telling him she had done it as a friend. How could you ever had been in Gryffindor?) And since when were the Weasley twins known to be anything but their word? And so with these thoughts, (oh, there she goes lying again, why give herself false hopes?), she set off in the wreckage of what was once her home to find him.
To her right, she could see Hermione and Ron hurriedly conversing with each other, repeatedly calling out the name Harry, (Potter must have gotten the Cloak again, Merlin those fantasies the twins had cooked up when they heard of it had you doubled over for ages). They climbed up a staircase that drew her attention, it was stained with blood and chipped, and at the current moment it was moving, (but she doubts she'd ever forget that kiss Fred gave her at the Yule Ball right at the seventh step when her date had gotten himself piss drunk and told her he was using her to get to her best mate). Tears formed a hazy mist in her eyes, and she desperately ran a hand through her locks to try and compose herself.
She turned away from the staircase, jogged off towards the East wing, (the two of them had spent more time in the Hospital Wing than was good for her sanity, though it was a rare occasion when she wasn't in a nearby cot as well). Some debris fell from the ceiling, and a quickly muttered spell prevented her from a trip to St. Mungo's. Pomfrey was scurrying from her office to the injured, murmuring darkly under her breath with potions brewing in between her hands. Pomfrey glanced at her, and a small sad smile formed on her lips, before she continued her journey to a groaning man who had been hit with an Incendio.
Her eyes scanned the room once hurriedly for any telltale signs of Fred; red hair, smug smirk, and a laughing smile, but she was disappointed, (she knew he wouldn't be there, who was she kidding?). But she couldn't leave the wing, couldn't bring herself to do it, especially when she saw a curtain labeled, 'Weasleys and the Adopted.' A laugh flowed from between her lips, and her hand flew to her throat at such a foreign sound, (she hadn't laughed since the last time she had apparrated to Fred's flat). Pomfrey had done that back in their second year when their visits were a definite thing; she had given them their own cots. (Remember that time when Fred told you he loved you back in third? Yeah, he blamed it on some fever potion Pomfrey had given him, though he wasn't in there 'cause he was sick, rather because he had a broken rib and you had broken your leg during another prank. Too bad you never believed him.)
She stepped out of the wing, and just resolved to walk around the grounds aimlessly on the hopes she'd come across him, (she always found him no matter what when she did this, she never needed the Marauder's Map. But that certainly had been useful). The sun had risen on the grounds, illuminating the turmoil and the losses they had suffered the night before, (and you can't bear to think of it as your loss, not yet, you're lying again saying that those bodies they're bringing in aren't in any way the people you know). Walking a bit further down the hall, with the tears glazing her eyes again, the sun was blotted out by the high stands of the Quidditch Pitch, (Merlin those twins could give anyone a run for their money, they were such good Beaters. She could remember the nights they had snuck out of the dorm to just lay on the grass, those days they would waste away there after exams with the sun melting everything away and laughing, they came to the Pitch for just about anything but it had always been their own spot, they had even the privilege of kicking Wood out a time or two).
She climbed out the window, landing with an accustomed grace on the ground half a story below, (she can remember those times where she had been outvoted and stuck doing all the dirty work like climbing out of windows and hexing unsuspecting Slytherins from the rooftops). She was jogging slightly now she noticed, her patience was running thin, (wasn't it always Fred that pointed out how impatient she was and how he'd tease her and 'help' her by leaning in as if to snog her and pull away just when she was going to grab his head and kiss him herself?), she had to find him and soon. But the Pitch was empty, as empty as she had ever seen it, (in fact, she can't quite remember a time when she had come here and not have found the twins), and this almost shakes her to hysterical tears, (never mind the ones that are already running fast and hard down her cheeks.)
Now she was outright sprinting, her hair flying behind her like a flaming trail, legs pushing her faster than they ever had before. Her need to see him had turned into so much more than a psychological need but into a bodily need. Her nerves were aching, every single one down to her toes, to touch him and pull him to her so she could- (and they had gone farther than snogging, his skin had left its imprint on hers like none other ever would, he had been her first and she had been his, but it was with a broken, shattered heart she had left his apartment the next morning. He had said they were both drunk, that they had to be because they were too good of friends to do this when sober, though it sounded like he was convincing himself more than her and George had told her Fred hadn't a drop to drink the night before. Should she have told him neither had she?)
The Fat Lady was back in her seat, though she had seen the Lady at the battle last night, cheering on her Gryffindors, (she knew the portrait had witnessed more than the battle in all her years in front of the Gryffindor Tower, that woman had witnessed her first day in Hogwarts, the twins befriending her, her first prank, and so so much more. Wasn't this the exact spot where she had realized she loved Fred Weasley more than she loved life itself?). The grand woman gazed down at her with such sad, sad eyes, (but she forced herself to think it wasn't because the Lady knew she was a lost cause but because she was sad to see she had had to fight in the war. She had always been one of the Lady's favorites), and opened her mouth so say something.
"You wouldn't have happened to see one of my thirds around here, yeah?" her voice was hoarse from disuse, and the Fat Lady frowned, her eyes expressing their sorrow, (wasn't it the portrait that had come up with that joke? That night on her way back from detention when she had stumbled here in exhaustion looking for the bloody twins, and the Fat Lady had said, 'Which third are you looking for?' and it had taken her weary mind quite a while to figure that one out. The twins were halves, and since she was 'attached to the hip with them both in such a way that to separate her, they had to be surgically removed', she made the halves into a third. She still couldn't believe all the professors had marked that comment on the trio's performance reviews year after year). The Lady shook her head, and swung open without waiting for the password. The twins and herself never needed a password to get in after second year, only on the first day of each year and that's it. They had grown on the Lady and she allowed them inside, (but didn't the Lady remember that the twins had dropped out in their sixth year? That she had already graduated? Would she had let the twins in regardless?).
The common room was just as she remembered, unchanged and nostalgic tears rushed back. She had missed this place when she had been forced to leave, had missed her favorite armchair, (the one her and Fred would argue over all the time for). Hermione and Ron were in a corner, this time whispering with each other, (Potter must be exhausted from last night). They looked up in surprise, and glanced at each other worriedly.
"How would you know the password? The Fat Lady let you in?" Hermione asked, astonished. She glanced at the younger girl, and a strangled laugh escaped her, (did it sound strange because she was crying or because she wasn't used to laughing when it wasn't Fred that was making her laugh? No, it had to be because she found no humor in this whatsoever).
"I haven't had to use a password since my second year, the Fat Lady loves me," she could feel herself shrugging and a part of her didn't like it, (only because when she shrugged, it would usually result in her bumping shoulders with Fred. Maybe her professors were right, she really was attached to the hip with the twins). Ron looked at her mournfully, (the boy was practically her younger brother, hadn't she spent every known break with the Weasleys? She wasn't as close to Ron, Harry and Hermione as she was to Fred and George but she was close enough to consider them family and vice versa).
Her feet dragged her to the boys' dormitory staircase, dismissing all further conversation, (oh Merlin, she had to find him, needed to find him. He was the only one who could ever make this ache go away). One bed at the end was closed off by curtains, (she shouldn't make much noise, Harry deserved all the rest he could get), and her head swiveled to where the twins' beds used to be, (of course they weren't there, they hadn't been here in two years. Their beds were taken by students). She climbed down the steps, left the tower without a word, (and of course the Lady had to say something to her).
"I saw you grow up, you know," the Lady said softly, (I know you did), "there's only so few students I remember. Sirius, James, Lily, Harry and his two friends Hermione and Ron, and the twins and you. You all have made such a statement and difference in this school. You can't believe how painful for me it is to let you go, to see you go and fight in the war. When I heard the news about James and Lily I sealed off this tower on graduation day."
She listened patiently, (see Fred? I can be patient), willing the pain to stay at bay. Listening to the Lady was comforting, (she knew it was true, her cousin had been one of the ones who were trapped in here that day), she always held the woman in a maternal view.
"Last night was both a proud one and a humbling one. I was proud to see my students take a stand and fight, and you don't know how much pride swelled up in me to see you and those twins put all your hexing experiences to good use. Not that I thought you were wasting your talents in pranks, I always had a laugh at those, I did. But it caused me so much pain to not be able to help you, to protect Fred from-" (I had to stop her there, she'd disillusion me), she turned away from the portrait and walked down the corridor. Guilt made her sick, unable to apologize, (but she knew the Lady took no offense by it, the Lady must have known she'd have walked away).
She was in a corridor that was different from the one that she had taken to get to the Gryffindor Tower, (could this had been the one where she had finally told Fred she loved him amidst the curses and the fighting after she had lied to get that promise out of him?). This corridor was worse than the others, the archway was a mere wreckage, and her heart sped up as she saw a red hair, (but why was Fred crying?). Oh, that was Percy leaning over one of his brothers. Was it Bill, or Charlie? Merlin no, that couldn't have been her Fred, (and for one short selfish second she hoped it was George, until she snapped out of it and made a mental note to Crucio herself later, only the pain she was feeling now was much much worse than what those unfortunate Longbottoms must have felt before they were rendered comatose). George was next to Percy, tears and disbelief making up his face, (Merlin this pain. She hoped that wasn't Fred, hoped that it was the blasted tears that made it look like her Fred).
And Percy was shaking his brother, and George was kneeling beside him, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
(And this disillusionment was far worse than what the Fat Lady could have ever said.)
Fred was dead.
The funeral was the most painful, she was forced into making a speech, (rendered speechless by George's passionate plea, feeling the begging stares of family and friends, and being unable to say no). Adding salt to injury, it was open casket, (but Merlin knew she hadn't forgotten his last facial expression, it haunted her dreams. At least this way, she could imagine in the years to come, if indeed she was strong enough without him, that he had been smiling because of her confession, because he loved her too, because she had been the reason the smile was on his face in the first place like so many other times before). It was as if their family, (hers as well, as they had fed and sheltered her for years, and the feeling had to be mutual because she couldn't remember the last time she had been treated as a guest instead of another child who forgot to do their chores in their household), knew about the pranks and the good times, but hardly knew the Fred her and George had known that could be serious, and wise, and just- (only George knew that she had loved Fred).
The world had ended, so why had the castle not fallen silent in horror, the sky not yet crashing down around them was beyond her. Her mind was in a free fall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Fred Weasley could not be dead, the evidence of all her senses must be lying-
(The years of laughing alongside him, witnessing his grand schemes fall into place, oh Merlin, what about all those years of loving him?, they couldn't have been for naught. )
Merlin, had she failed. She didn't think she would ever leave her flat again, (she had broken down crying in the middle of the speech, and had she really confessed to all her classmates and peers throughout her seven years at Hogwarts that had survived that she loved him? To his family as well?). George and others had been attempting to get to her all night, (its Fred's fault, he had placed the disapparating charm in her flat), and were now subjected to pounding on her door, (the only one she would ever let in was Fred, surely they knew it too?). With all the liquor she had bought on her way home from that awful breakdown, she could open a bar and compete with the Three Broomsticks, (she had already called in sick to work in the hopes that either her pain and sorrow would kill her or the Firewhiskey would, she was too much of a coward to do it herself. How could you ever had been in Gryffindor?), and she hoped it would make her forget the agonizing sight of them lowering the- (his body's probably six feet under by now, and dear Merlin that epitaph).
Fred Weasley
December 10 1989 - May 27 2007
An incredible, son, friend.
An amazing twin,
And an unforgettable third.
(He should have put an incomparable lover, she had thought. He had written this himself days before the battle. Had he known he would-?)
She was nervous, on the edge, he could tell. She was wringing her hands, simultaneously keeping a death grip on her wand. "Levicorpus!" she whispered, and in seconds, Fred was hanging upside down in some tucked away corner on the Forbidden Floor, (hadn't he been the one that taught her that spell? He had always loved that she was a quick learner). He grinned cheekily at her, (truth was he never liked it when she used that spell against him, he could never see her face properly at an upside down angle. And Merlin knew he loved staring at her face, she was just so beautiful).
"Want to have your wicked way with me, eh?" he had teased, winking playfully, (he could never be mad at her). "Promise me you're going to come home after this, that you're going to be alive," she had stuttered,(the words had a hard time coming out of her mouth), and the passion in her eyes made him thankful he wasn't on the ground, (it made his knees weak, and he was sure he would have had a hard time keeping from snogging her. She was worried underneath it all, adding unnecessary stress, he wanted to see her happy). He shook his head regretfully, sobering up, (he always wanted to give her what he wanted, but this he could not guarantee). She ran a hand through her hair in frustration, and he could see tears in her eyes, (he hated those tears, wanted them to go away. She didn't deserve this, he wished she would just go home and not fight).
"But I'll promise to be careful. Its all I can promise you," he amended, (and he knew he'd keep his word, simply because he didn't like the idea of never seeing her again). She froze, and her eyes bore into his face as if committing it to memory, (he was doing the same to hers). "Only as a friend, can't have the other side of my hip missing, y'know? It'd be hard to walk," she had shrugged, a shaky smirk quirking her lips, (but he knew she was still worried, simply had too much pride to admit it).
-
That fucking arse would pay for hurting his third, (no, more like for hurting his love). What kind of a git would use a girl, (his girl), to get to her best mate? Only the insecure gits who needed to bed women to prove their manliness, (didn't those dicks know that her heart was his to take, not theirs?). He saw red as he rushed out of the Ball, and padded down a corridor, some magnetic pull leading him through the grounds, (and it was this pull that made him sure he was made for her, it always led him to her, after all). And there she was, trying valiantly to hold back tears, staring blankly at the banister , (he had lied to her then, he told her that she looked like a drowned rat when she cried; only because seeing her in such a state was heart wrenching. He told her this back in third year, when her hormones made her feel awkward and self conscious, and his little lie prevented her from crying- in public). She looked up at him, slightly surprised to see him there, and her tears slipped out of her control, running down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
"It figures. I should have known, how much more of an idiot could I have been? Why would anyone pick me over beautiful, gorgeous Cho?" bitterness and vulnerability made her voice sound void, it broke his heart to see how this was killing her, (and got him so riled up, he wanted to make sure that Ravenclaw got what was coming to him). "What did I tell you? You look like a drowned rat when you cry like that," he sighed. "And, blimey, but I thought you had better taste than that bloke," he shuddered dramatically, (he wanted her to smile). A small grin worked its way onto her face, and she hurriedly covered her mouth, giggling and hiccuping slightly. He smiled, his heart thumping hard and fast in his chest, (she looked so beautiful when she was happy). Without thinking, he cupped her cheek in one hand, and pulled her hand from her mouth with his other one. Tugging her forward, he kissed her, (how long had he been waiting to do that?). Her lips were soft and warm against his, and when she parted her lips, (he could taste butterbeer, but he was sure he could get drunk on her taste with or without it), he felt as if he was on Cloud Nine, and he let go of her hand, using his arm to wrap around her waist and pull her closer, (Merlin, this had to be sinful).
-
He grimaced as pain shot up his left side, (damn Peeves made him laugh so hard, he toppled over and hit his rib on a suit of armor. He could have sworn he had dragged someone down with him). He tentatively poked his rib, and groaned. "You prat, why would you poke a broken rib?" he voice lashed out from his right, light and teasing. His heart skipped a beat, and he looked at her excitedly. "You're here!" he smiled brightly, his mood elating. "Yeah, thanks to you. Git," she added on after a second, but grinned, (thanks to him?). He looked her over, saw a lump of bandages where her leg should have been. His eyes widened in horror.
"How the- Your leg was amputated?!" he stuttered, she blinked in confusion, (she was in pain because of him, yet another smear on his conscience). "What?! No! Wood would have your arse on a bloody broomstick baking over a campfire," she joked, and flashed a set of pearly white teeth at him, (there she goes, soothing him. She's too much of a kind soul to blame anything on anyone). His self-anger was working him up, and he felt annoyed at her. "Your leg is in a mess of bandages, dear. Explain to me what happened," he scowled. She glared at him, (he had seen her do this to so many others, he hoped he'd never be on the receiving end. Now that he was, he felt scared, and mildly aroused by her feistiness). "Its actually very simple. The three of us were on the second floor, hexing the gnomes when Peeves came. He started singing this merry little tune, which had you doubled over, and you fell, pulling me down with you," she said in mock cheeriness, (yet another thing he loved about her: her bluntness). His annoyance went through the roof.
"Oh, so its my fault, yeah?!" he spat out, her eyes widened, (somebody shut me up, I can't control what's coming out of my mouth). "Of course it isn't, you wanker! Did you forget the part where I mentioned Peeves came along? Apparently, you've forgotten what a jealous bugger he can be. He He waxed the floor, so when you fell over, you did the only sensible thing anyone else would!" she sat upright in her cot in anger, her hair wild around her face. "Don't try to comfort me! I'm not some poor tormented soul who needs soothing!" he shouted, flinging the words at her. "You're right, you're not some tormented soul. But you worry excessively and for no reason," she retorted.
"I can't help worrying about you! It's not something I can help! Believe me, if I had a choice in any of this, I wouldn't have fallen in love with you!" his eyes were blazing, he was clenching his fists, (and oh, dear Merlin, what have I done?). Her mouth opened, then closed as Pomfrey came to check on her leg. "Must be that fever potion talking," he muttered, looking away from her. He caught her reflection in a nearby mirror, (those can't be tears of hurt in her eyes).
-
"O.W.L.s are over!" she shrieked, rolling around in the slightly damp grass of the Pitch. George laughed, and shot a few Filibuster Fireworks into the air, and she watched them burst in wonder. She reached into her robes, and pulled out some Sugar Quills, playfully keeping them out of George's reach. He couldn't resist the urge to tackle her, and soon, they were rolling around, and the sun was glinting off her hair, (with the way she was smiling at him, this couldn't be real). After a few long moments of staring at her, she squirmed underneath him. "Fred? Are you alright, mate?" she asked him, her hand stroking his cheek in an unconscious gesture, (her hand had sent electric shocks down his body, left his cheek burning, she had to have felt it too because she yanked her hand away and stared at her fingers in awe for a few short seconds).
George covered up his laugh with a cough, and they sprang apart. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, and stared off into space. After a while of comfortable silence, she pressed the tip of her wand against her lips. "Hmm, what do you think of summoning up the Bludgers?" she asked thoughtfully, and from the corner of his eye, he could see George sniggering. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her, "What are you thinking?" She shrugged, (her shoulder bumped his, and he felt heat course down his arm). "I'm thinking let's get everyone's mood out of the gloom and doom of exams, and into cheerful euphoria," she grinned, summoning the chest. "I love it when you use such big words," George sighed dreamily, and Fred smacked his arm. (She was always the creative one).
-
"No way, Fred! I did it last time, you prat!" George argued. He sighed, ran a hand through his shaggy red hair, (he didn't want to send her to do it, he already worried enough about her than was good for his sanity. Merlin knew she was a klutz). "Well, I can't do it! No one else has mastered the bloody spell!" he quipped. "Because you're barely given us time!" she retorted, (he could never get enough of her wittiness)."Well, it's a basic spell! Honestly, even a first year can do it!" he clenched his teeth. "That's bull. You're only saying that because Flitwick has been giving you some extra Charms work on the side!" she hissed angrily, flicking her hair from her eyes. "Only because I was in danger of Remedial Charms," he replied sullenly, (damn, she had a temper).
George sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "That's all fine and dandy, y'know. But we still need to know who's going to scale the wall," George huffed. Fred threw his hands up into the air, "This is between the both of you." George glared at him, and turned on her. "Well, you're a skinny little prick. You do it. You're better at it than I am," he reasoned. Her cheeks colored in rage, (he felt a pang of jealousy towards his brother, he didn't like it when somebody but him made her react that way. She looked enchanting with her face flushed). She looked at him, expecting him to defend her and he shrugged, (his shoulder bumped against hers; it seemed as if every time one of them would shrug this would happen. He didn't mind it terribly). She spun on her heel, and stalked away, muttering curses on her breath that made them flinch."Remember! Its my mother that's feeding you!" he called out, teasing. She flicked him off as she rounded the corner.
-
"Always so impatient," he smirked, leaning into her ear. She jumped, and tilted her head to look at him, (he loved it when they were this close). "Oh, shut it. Its not something I can help," she scrunched up her nose, (she looked so adorable when she did that). "Well, you know what they say, patience is a virtue," he mimicked McGonagall, and she laughed, (the sound was like tinkling bells, he could still hear it hours later). "Well, then I possess little virtue," she admitted, winking at him playfully, (she truly was a trickster, with the tricks she was pulling on his heartbeat). He raised an eyebrow, and traced a pattern on the side of her neck with the tip of his finger.
"Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he stepped closer to her, leaning in so there was little space between their lips, (and he wanted to get rid of that distance now). Her breath hitched, and he hoped she wouldn't push him off, (he backed her into a wall, trapped her there with his arms, he didn't want her to get away). Their gazes locked for a moment, which stretched out and felt like hours, (he had to make sure this was what she wanted, make sure he had the control to not push her too far), but then her hands twitched in the corner of his eyes and he remembered he was attempting to teach her patience, (it felt like he was teaching himself. He'd get her one day). Forcing a grin, he pulled away laughing. (Merlin, he should have snogged her).
-
He had woken up smiling, and happy; his arm wrapped securely around her waist. Memories of the night before were going through his head, (her breath, hot on his lips, before kissing her; fumbling with her shirt, before pushing it open and sliding his hand across her taut stomach, up to her lacy bra and cupping her breast; her legs wrapped around his hips, her hands knotted in his hair; kicking open his apartment door, their clothes coming off, then reaching the bed, Merlin the bed; and her hair splayed across his pillow like a waterfall; her skin like spun silk underneath his hands; her beautiful curves in the moonlight). He sighed exuberantly. What would happen when she woke up? (Damn, he knew this was too good to be true). She stirred underneath him, and he yanked his arm off of her, rolled to the other side of the bed.
He hurriedly found his boxers, tugged them on, and went into the bathroom to splash his face with cold water, (was there a rational explanation to all of this? He'd have to lie, say he was drunk, he didn't know if she was). He walked back into his room, and there she was, (beautiful, sexy, and he wanted her again, he could never get enough). She looked at him, her eyes bright and wide, and (were they happy?). "Look-, I mean-, Merlin, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, I was drunk. One too many shots, I reckon," his words came out in a rush, (he didn't want to ruin their friendship, didn't want her to know he loved her. Had they even used protection?), "Otherwise, how else could we do this? We're best friends, I know that, and best friends just don't do this kind of stuff with the one another," (but he wished they did). He swallowed nervously as she sat there, looking at him blankly, clutching the sheets to her chest, (oh, he wanted to be that sheet, better yet to yank it away and take back that blasphemy that just slipped from his lips, and keep her in his bed forever).
Nodding her head, he walked out of the room to give her some privacy. George was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, poking his eggs with a fork idly. His eyes flashed to Fred's face in annoyance, before shaking his head and resuming staring at his breakfast. "I don't know why you always lie and make excuses. It's mind boggling how you two are so bloody oblivious. Everyone knows you two love each other," he finally said after some time. Fred shook his head stubbornly, reaching into the refrigerator for the pumpkin juice. "She doesn't. We both know her. If it was true, she would have said something. Or done something by now," he shrugged. George stood up from the table, his chair scraping against the tile. "Are you fucking blind? What do you think she was doing last night? What about all those years in Hogwarts when she lied for you, helped you with your homework, hexed all the tramps to oblivion for you?! Fred, she did everything for you to try and see! Her very actions are screaming her love for you, loud and clear!" he yelled angrily. "You fucking idiot."
She stepped out of his room, looking a bit disheveled. she avoided looking at him, and instead eyed the scene in front of her. "You alright, George? You look pissed, mate," she raised an eyebrow, popping a bit of bacon into her mouth. George shrugged, eyeing Fred over the top of her head. "Nothing, just tired of dealing with idiots," he muttered, sitting back down. She rubbed his shoulder to comfort him, before popping a pill into her mouth and chasing it down with George's coffee. "Blimey, what the hell was that?" she joked. "Coffee?" George questioned, grinning a little from her antics. She coughed dramatically, and began bustling over the kitchen. "I'll make you coffee," she laughed.
-
Who was that girl? (She was pretty, looked like she'd be fun to have around). He nudged George, and gestured to her, (please let her be in Gryffindor, Mum and Dad would kill me if she was in Slytherin). She made her way to the back of the Hall; and he felt a bit sorry for her, she was short enough to be teased. Seh took a few shaky steps towards the end, and she stumbled and fell. He was relieved when no one laughed, (well, the Slytherins did, but he'd get them back for it). The girl flushed, and climbed onto the stool, the Sorting Hat sliding past her forehead, covering her eyes. The Hall waited patiently, anticipation making the air thick, (or was that just him?)
At long last, the Sorting Hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" And the girl smiled, a bit dazed, and walked towarsd the table. He moved and patted the spot between him and George and she took the seat gratefully, (she was much prettier from up close).He attempted to make conversation, but she couldn't hear him over the cheers and noise in the Great Hall. He decided to wait until they were taken to the dormitory, (and he couldn't seem to find his patience). Finally, a prefect gestured for them to get up, and led them to Gryffindor Tower, where he made eye contact with George and the both of them snagged each of her arms just as she was about to step through. She was sprawled onto the floor in seconds, and the twins had a hard time keeping their balance. "Falling comes naturally to you, doesn't it?" George teased, and the girl blushed. "Well, its not my fault that I'm being pulled backwards out of nowhere," she snapped. They helped her up, and Fred poked her side to get her attention. She turned to him, raisng an eyebrow.
"So, what do you think of dung bombs and Exploding Snaps?" he inquired, curious. A slow grin quirked her lips, "I couldn't live without them. I love putting dung bombs in toilets though, bit of a dramatic effect, yeah?" His heart skipped a beat, and George looked at her in wonder. "You're coming home with us for the holidays," George said, "and we're not taking no for an answer," he finished for George. She laughed lightly, (he wanted to hear that more).
-
The twins trudged to Gryffindor Tower tiredly, and Fred rubbed his face in an effort to ward off his exhaustion. That bloody troll Hermione had released had no sense of humor, they had joked to Pomfrey. They had been skipping Dinner in the library to try to find a book on transfiguring dung bombs into chocolate boxes; it was a plan they had formed for the upcoming Valentine's Day, (McGonagall refused to tell them how to do it, which annoyed him because he had been looking forward to seeing her). They heard Quirrel screaming bloody murder, and decided to try to find the troll; they had it in their heads that it'd be a laugh if they could incorporate it into a for them, they had only managed in transfiguring its boogers into a crown of flowers on its head before it had swung its club at them and sent them flying down the corridor.
They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, and she chided them for what hey had done. "She's been terrorizing the castle looking for you all day, y'know. Slipped away from the students, and followed that Potter boy to the troll. When the professors finally started dragging the troll back to the Forbidden Forest, the blasted creature woke up and she hexed it back onto uncosciousness. She got a month's worth of detention, and several points off the House, but she did it because she was sure the thing had killed you both. Never seen a thing quite like it; she had seventh years cowering, for Merlin's sake. You better go find your third before she gets even angrier," the Lady had explained, chuckling at the slight fear in their faces.
"Third? Blimey, but what did she mean by that?" George whispered into his ear, and he didn't answer as they stepped through the portrait hole and saw a very stressed out second year pacing the room rapidly, with books floating and rocketing across the room in her anger, (so telekinesis, was it?). She froze as she caught sight of them, and they stepped back warily. "YOU IDIOTS!"
The Fat Lady let out a peal of laughter and her frame shook from the force of the girl's scream. "Aah, young love."
-
"Oy, you prat! Get out of my arm chair!" she clenched her jaw, angling her wand at him. Fred opened his eyes briefly to examine her, and then closed them again, shrugging, (for a brief moment, he felt unsettled, there were so very few times when he shrugged and didn't knock her shoulder in the process). "Its the property of the Gryffindor Tower, not yours," he drawled lazily, (he could practically hear the gears in her mind turning as she scrambled to think of a hex for him). "What's all the ruckus about?" George said as he popped up next to her. She eyed him angrily, gesturing wildly at his brother, "He took my seat!" George raised a brow, "Technically, love, its the property of the Tower." (He was going to punch his brother for that one, only he was allowed to call her 'love'). She screamed in frustration, before marching furiously up the stairs to her dormitory."Do y'reckon we should go after her? She's been bitchy all week," Fred said worriedly. "It might be PMS," George shrugged. He snorted, and grabbed George's elbow as he towed him to the staircase.
She was flipping through the pages in her Potions book angrily, disregarding their approach. "Well, y'know we love you and all, right? But all joking aside, who shoved a stick up your arse?" George slung an arm around her shoulders as she turned and glared at him. "What my pigheaded third is trying to say is, what's wrong? You've been argumentative, and snappy all week," Fred soothed. "I have not!" she protested, her nostrils flaring angrily, (she had picked up this habit from McGonagall in the middle of first year, he remembered teasing her about it). Fred raised a questioning brow. She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose between her index and thumb. "I haven't been sleeping properly these past couple of weeks, and I went to Pomfrey a few days ago, and she said she couldn't help because she didn't know where my restlessness was coming from," she said quietly.
George and Fred exchanged glances. "Well, you slept just fine during the summer at our house," George recalled. "Yeah, maybe you should try sleeping with us tonight, see how that works," Fred added. She grabbed a nearby pillow and sent it flying in the direction of his face. "Of course you two would turn this into something perverted!" she grinned slightly, and the twins sniggered.
That night, George had fallen asleep early, and she tapped Fred's shoulder lightly. He had been waiting for her, absentmindedly twirling the Marauder's Map in between his hands. He turned at her touch, and grinned wickedly. "So I see you've given into my handsome charms and have been forced as to stoop so low as to try and steal my innocence in my sleep, eh?" he joked, and she struggled to keep from laughing. "Prat, shut it! I don't want anyone catching me here," she whispered. "No one would tell," he rolled his eyes at her, (he was getting nervous, he would be sleeping in the same bed as her). "Percy," she challenged, as she started to crawl under his sheets, (she was wearing a think tank top and some scandalously leg showing shorts. He had a hard time to keep from staring). He tore his eyes away, and met her gaze, "Bugger. Got me there."
After a while, he slipped in beside her, and she leaned her forehead against his bare chest, (he thanked Wood for the Quidditch practices, it would have been embarrassing to have a fat chest). "Wow, who would have known you'd have such a built chest? And muscles?" she teased. He laughed along with her as he hesitantly wrapped an arm around her bare wasit, (dear Merlin, her shirt had ridden up). They fell asleep soon afterwards, and the next morning they stumbled out of bed together and went to breakfast.
"Are those two ever apart?" Professor Sprout hissed to Flitwick, as they eyes the pair suspiciously.
-
He aimed a curse at a Death Eater that was much too close to her than he would have liked, (if she knew he was trying to make sure she had no one to battle, she'd hex him into his next lifetime). He saw her dodge a spell from the corner of his eye, and mentally groaned as he couldn't help her, (he would have to try and be fast with this one if he wanted to keep her safe). She was nervous again, and her mind wasn't in the battle as he would have liked, (he secretly hoped she was thinking of him). She narrowly missed an Imperius Curse, and he felt his annoyance building up. "Would you concentrate on what you're doing?!" he hissed at her ear, before turning back to his Death Eater, (truthfully, she really didn't need to; she had always been good at dueling and coming up with hexes on seconds' notice. But this was no time to be distracted either). She snapped out of her spell, and glanced at him sheepishly, "Sorry." She finished the follower off as he finished his. She was wringing her hands again.
"Fred?" she said hesitantly, before casting another quick spell, successfully stopping a Death Eater on its way over to the pair. He glanced at her, and disarmed the same one, before turning to her, (he was looking her over to make sure she hadn't a scratch, otherwise that Death Eater was about to be Crucio'd into oblivion). "I love you," she said suddenly, and he felt himself freeze, (he had to have died, this couldn't be happening). "Always have, y'know? But I was much too afraid to tell you, Its beyond me why I was sorted into Gryffindor, but yeah," she finished, avoiding his gaze, (leave it to her to wait to the last minute to tell me something like that). "Oh, cheer up. You're plenty brave. You remember in our first year, you were the first person to tell Peeves to shove it up his arse? Or that other time in second year, when you hexed that troll into unconsciousness?" he reminded her, shifting his weight slightly. She shook her head, and let out a humorless laugh. "If thats you're way of getting me ready for rejection, its not working," she mumbled, and he felt the urge to hug her, (George was right, he really was blind. He could see now, all those years of her pining after him). "No, I'm not rejecting you. In fact, I-" he didn't get the chance to finish, an attack had happened further up the corridor where he knew Percy was, and she was rushing in the opposite direction to Wood. (Guess I'll have to watch myself and stay alive so I can tell her. Merlin, we've been wasting years).
Fred sighed in frustration as he viewed the scene below, George pounding on her door uncontrollably while she was drinking bottle after bottle of Firewhiskey, (he suddenly regretted ever putting that disapparrating charm on her flat). She was crying and even in her drunken state he knew she still felt the pain of losing him, (and damn he hated what this was doing to her, wanted her to be with him but didn't want her to die either). George finally gave up, and his voice was rough and emotional, (he had seen his brother like this so few times, only because this was the state where the both of them were completely and utterly broken). "He loved you too!" he shouted through her door, and Fred saw the bottle stop on its way to her mouth, (when he saw her again, he'd make sure she'd never go near alcohol ever). Shock flitted across her features, (Merlin, she was beautiful, he'd never get over it. It shocked him every time he looked at her, and it was his blasted luck that kept him from touching her, kissing her, loving her like he had wanted for so many years). She dragged herself off her couch, tears still fresh on her face, pictures of him scattered all around her, and opened her door, (she was in so much pain, the Lady had said it right. It was humbling to see those you loved in pain and be unable to do a thing about it).
"Merlin, you two have loved each other for years! You've wasted all that time, its incredible really!" George ranted, (he would sock his brother in the face for making her feel worse). "Well, I'm not going to do what the both of you did, I'm going to tell Alicia I love her." She nodded slowly, "Yes, go do that." she closed the door, stared numbly at her pictures of him. She was sobbing again, (he would have to find Merlin one day, and make him cast her tears away).
She didn't leave her apartment for weeks. She did the same everyday, she'd fall asleep in the middle of her pictures and memories, and wake up there. Until one day, she gathered her pictures, everything that even hinted of him, and went upstairs to pack her bags. She called the Ministry, informed them that she would take that job position in Australia they had offered her. And as she boxed up all her memories of him, she looked up at the ceiling, miraculously through her roof, the sky and space, all the way to him. He somehow knew that it wouldn't be long until she was with him, and he was able to do to her all the things he never could. She tried to smirk, but instead grinned, and with tears still running down her cheeks, and trembling lips, she said, "Mischief managed."
(Merlin, he loved her.)
Alright, I know its long as hell, but I got the idea when I was waking up, in my semi-unconscious state. Lately all my ideas are coming when I'm either about to sleep, or about to wake up, but whatever. It took me over 8 hours of leg cramps, glaring at my computer screen, screaming at my interrupting friends in frustration, and editing and Spell Check, and everything you could possibly think of for me to transform this from crappy to decent. The ending, you know the part after the flashbacks, might be weird, but my imagination and patience was running thin there. I wanted to end it at the epitaph, but that would have been abrupt, and I had already gotten the idea of the flashbacks, and I really liked it and then I had already started typing them, so I was screwed. I ried several times throughout this, so if you didn't, aww.
The story
Some of you may have noticed that I never put the girl's name in, and that's because I wasn't sure who to put it as. At first, I wanted to make up a sister for Harry, but that would have required me to write more than a oneshot to build and construct Harry Potter's sister, and what the hell had she been doing throughout all the books, and I'm lazy. Then I thought of making it Angelina, or Alicia, or Katie, but I wasn't sure which one readers would like best. So I avoided the name at all costs, and you guys can think of it as whomever you want. I only wrote this because I adored the twins, and I thought that Fred should have a story of his own in my heart, and this happened.
The long, pure italics at the end of every sections or so, are J.K. Rowling's words, I edited a little to fit the story though. The italic underlined were the flashbacks, in case you didn't know. And the parentheses, well, they're just.. I think its cool to put stuff like that. XD
No flames, please please please review.