Molly passes the asparagus to her left. As Emily takes the plate, she realizes they've come a long way since her first dinner with the Weasley family. For one, Molly has finally put away her fine china, perhaps signifying Emily is no longer a guest in the house, and has become something more intimate. Someone more deserving of the plain serving platter from which she scrapes vegetables, handing it off to the next person at the table. Tonight it happens to be Fred's brother George, who of course looks almost exactly like him, being his twin. Emily surveys the table of happily chewing people, noting that all the Weasley men look a certain degree similar, so the fact that Fred and George are twins makes little difference. Even Ron, Fred's youngest brother, looks like he'll grow up to resemble his father the way the others do.

Oh, Ron. He meets her eyes when her gaze lands on him, and he visibly blushes before taking the plate that has now made its way around the table. Emily shifts in her seat, both pleased with and wary of the knowledge that Fred's younger brother has a crush on her.

"I think he fancies you," Fred had laughed, too loudly for her taste. It would be one thing to brush off his brother's interest as boyish, but to embarrass the poor kid further seemed almost cruel.

But Fred can be cruel, Emily notes, glancing once across the table at him before turning her attention to dinner. If she doesn't eat fast enough, Molly will take it personally, house-guest or not. She slides her fork gently underneath what looks like mashed sweet potatoes and brings some to her mouth. Fred meets her eyes as she takes the fork from her lips, and the sensuality of the motion is enough to make her blush. Sometimes it feels pornographic, sitting across from him at a table with his parents, brother, and sisters. When Ron brings his two friends along, it's like they're surrounded by a bunch of fresh-faced kids and Fred never cares to be subtle.

As if to prove her point, his mouth turns up at the corner. She looks down before she can witness the full extent of Fred's knowing smirk, tired of wondering if Mr. Weasley notices her blushing when he addresses her.

"Emily, how's the work coming?" Mr. Weasley asks, clearing his throat.

Bloody hell, it's like they can all read my mind.

"Well, slowly, I guess," she says, sitting back and smoothing the napkin over her lap. "I'm still doing my research, so I haven't written a word yet." There is a clang from the opposite side of the table, and most everyone turns to see Molly gaping at Emily, her fork fallen in the middle of her plate.

"Not a word? What have you been doing all month?" she asks, genuinely surprised.

"Mum..." Fred begins, laughing, but Bill interrupts.

"That's not how it works, Mum. It's a lot of preliminary thought before you start into your thesis." Emily smiles at Fred's older brother gratefully, and he nods solemnly in her direction. "I had a lot of field work to do, myself."

"Yeah, alright, field work, sure. Like chasing dragons and cleaning up after them," Fred replies snidely, moving his food around on his plate. He resents being interrupted, especially by Bill, who is home for the weekend and seems to have brought an endless list of new professional success stories to announce.

"Fred," Molly says sharply, but he doesn't look up at her right away. Emily feels George's leg brush against hers as he reaches underneath the table to kick his brother in the shins. Fred tosses his napkin down and looks at his mother with a huff. "Polite," she says simply, and he smiles without humor, reaching for his glass of water before breaking the stare.

"Well, either way, you're making progress, I suppose?" Mr. Weasley asks again, his eyes darting across the table to his wife.

"I am, honestly," Emily assures them both. "I'm up in my room reading most of the time. It's just important to see what's been said on the subject before I start in with my own arguments..." She hopes she isn't insulting them with this simple explanation, but they nod and seemed satisfied. Emily breathes a sigh of relief.

The feeling of serenity is temporary, of course. When she looks up at Fred, he's smirking again. He opens his mouth to speak and she finds herself shaking her head slowly, pleading with him.

"So you read the whole time you're up there?" he asks, not even trying to suppress his smile.

"Yep." She answers, sounding more defiant than she had hoped to.

"By yourself."

"Mhm."

Everyone else seems to be eating, either pretending to be ignorant or actually unaware that Fred is embarrassing her. Only Ron looks confused, his brown eyes moving from his brother to Emily, his forehead wrinkled in thought.

"Sounds boring," Fred says, putting his elbow on the table and leaning his face in one hand, smiling at her in a garish way that reminds her of a puppy dog. Emily shifts her weight and takes a sip of water, wishing he wouldn't be so obvious.

"We'll have to head to Diagon Alley in the next week or so..." Mr. Weasley offers to no one in particular. Emily is the only one that seems to react to this, realizing the summer is coming to an end and that everyone will be heading back to Hogwarts in September.

"Where did the time go?" she wonders out-loud, and to her pleasure, everyone at the table nods and sighs. Some of the tension is relieved.

"I'll miss strawberries, we had such nice ones this summer..." Ginny speaks up, picking at something on her fingernail.

"We did, though. Just lovely, and the garden bloomed well," Molly adds, smiling at her daughter. They had both put a lot of time into grooming and weeding before Emily's arrival. When her eyes started to hurt from reviewing notes and journals, she had walked out into the garden on the warm summer nights, barefoot in the grass and wishing the holiday wouldn't ever end. She much preferred sweet drinks and flowers and early sunrises to dead-lines and mittens and jumpers. As nice as it was to rub noses with Fred in the snow, even Christmas with him couldn't compare to his hands sliding up her bare thighs, underneath her sundress at night in the backyard. Emily looks at him again, this time actually wanting to see that look in his eyes.

He raises his eyebrows at her in question as everyone around them starts to chatter about the things they'll miss. Emily wishes she could show him the things she was remembering. She wants to say it out-loud, that what she'll miss more than fruits of the harvest or sleeping in on week-days will be Fred making circles with his thumb over her breasts, pulling at the thin fabric of a blouse she couldn't wear in any other month but August. He searches her face now. Emily knows he can see the wheels turning in her head, but he isn't sure what she's meditating on.

This uncertainty drives him crazy, she understands that now. In the chaos of his family, he's always been the one two or three steps ahead, laughing and asking what's taking everyone so long to arrive. She knows it's a little mean, but Emily smiles at him anyway, running a hand through her hair slowly and blinking at him like she has a secret. Fred stares across the table at her, his mouth slightly open.

"I like your tie," she mouths silently to him, pointing to her own throat and letting her hand rest on her clavicle. She actually likes the whole deal, his busy maroon dress shirt and matching vest, but she's careful to ration her compliments with Fred, ready to keep him on his toes. He watches Emily do this, touch her neck and run her fingers across her skin, almost as if she didn't say anything at all. She sees him take a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he bites at the inside of his mouth. It's one of those moments in which the world moves around them, like they're losing time and somehow it doesn't matter.

"I want to touch you," he says suddenly. He means to mouth it, but it comes out as almost a whisper. Emily blushes instantly, but she's still smiling as she looks around at his family quickly. She puts a finger to her lips to shush him, but ends up covering her mouth with her hand, laughing quietly. Fred laughs too, noticing for just a second that Ron has heard him. He hopes Emily won't look, but she does.

Fred rolls his eyes, glancing ruefully at his younger brother. Emily won't mess around with him if Ron is looking. She's got some idea that it's inappropriate, that he's too young to know what his brothers are actually up to. As Fred studies his brother, noticing how Ron looks at Emily, at his girlfriend, he feels for just a moment that sneaking bit of jealousy, the small and terrible inkling that Emily might be worried about Ron's feelings. He wonders what would happen if he just told him.

You have no idea, Ron.

Fred turns again to Emily, who's now talking to his mother about her research again. Although he finds it interesting, and likes to hear Emily talk about things she likes, it makes him antsy to know that Bill's listening. His older brother always has something to say on the matter, like he's trying to relate to Emily in a way that only he can. Emily doesn't notice, of course, because she doesn't know Bill, but Fred is all too aware of his other brother's objective as well. It's always been this way, bringing a girl home. Fred looks uneasily around the table, glad for once that Charlie and Percy aren't home. Charlie, especially, would make a great game out of distracting Emily and winking at her. In this way, Fred muses, Ron's really not that bad at all, being that he can't sway her the way Charlie or Bill might.

Maybe I'll get a shot at that when Ron brings home a girl.

Fred watches his younger brother try to covertly pick his nose, rubbing it with his palm and looking around. He decides it will be a while before that opportunity presents itself, if it ever does. Still, there's something about the way Emily concerns herself with Ron, like his Mum does, almost. Like he needs to be looked out for. Fred wonders about this to himself until Emily turns to him again, her face lit up with a fresh smile from speaking with his mother. That's another thing she gets a kick out of, talking to Mum like they're equals. He smiles back at Emily, aware that he likes this too. Something about Emily and his Mum laughing in secret is nice, even if it's probably about him.

It's George's turn to do the dishes, so he starts clearing plates as Molly bustles about getting coffee and tea on the table. Emily is aware of Fred staring intently at her, but she decides not to humor him at the moment. It's a soft heat on her skin, knowing he's looking at her and silently willing her to meet him halfway. He turns to look at Ron again, who is chewing something laboriously and watching his mother set out coffee cups.

"Emily, don't you like Ron's new jumper?" Molly says off-handedly. Ron swallows, probably too much, almost instantly. He sits up straight and looks nervous, as if to present his hand-knit jumper to everyone at the table.

"You look sharp, Ron. Very handsome." Emily says, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. He swells with pride, grinning at her crookedly. Fred is now glaring at his small brother.

"Er, thanks, Em. Mum, you could make her one, too, you kno-" Molly interrupts Ron with a cartoonish shushing sound, rolling her eyes and pretending she's not up to anything already. Emily smiles. She has seen the half-finished work in Molly's sewing basket, a jumper with an E across it that looks a lot like the pattern used for Ginny's.

"Is it alright if I excuse myself? Talking about work makes me want to take a second look at something..." Emily asks delicately. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seem fine with her departing early, and she promises Molly she'll have coffee later, by the fire. When she pushes her chair back and stands, smoothing out her skirt, she notices Fred staring up at her, his hands on the armrests of his chair like he's ready to spring up.

"If you're still reading later on, come on down and sit with Ginny and I," Molly says primly. Emily makes a note to do this, as a feminine bonding experience and all. It's incredibly important to her that Fred's mother approves of her, even if she seems generally polite to everyone.

"I will," Emily says simply. "Alright, well, off to..." She stops speaking at the sound of Fred's chair squeaking backwards. He stands too quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Didn't you have that box of books to move? The er...heavy one?" he asks, trying his damnest not to smile at her.

"Oh, um...yes." She turns to go, leaving Fred to deal with making excuses on his own.

"Darling, she can manage if she needs to..." Molly begins, and Emily muffles a snicker with her hand as she starts up the stairs. She makes it to the top before audibly laughing, and then has to sit on the top step, her skirt falling around her knees as she giggles at how Fred looked. Emily is still laughing when he appears on the stairwell.

"What's so funny?" he asks in a half-whisper, looking almost worried. He glances behind him to see if anyone's followed him.

"You almost knocked the table over!" Emily says, stifling giggles behind both hands. They laugh together, trying to stay quiet at the top of the stairs. Emily is still smiling when Fred takes a knee on the step below her, placing a hand on either side of her. He pretends like he's going to bite her and she squeaks in protest before he presses his mouth to hers. Fred moves his lips against hers, taking her bottom lip in his teeth before pulling away. "You're awful," she says softly, smoothing his shirt collar for him.

"And you are...wonderful," he breathes, moving to kiss and nibble her right earlobe.

"I'm serious, I can't eat with you anymore."

"I feel like I could take a bite out of you," Fred returns. He pulls away to look her over, switching his weight to one hand so he can touch her blouse with the other. He pulls one side of her shirt away from her chest gently, and Emily watches him kiss her there, closing her eyes for just a second to smell his hair as he buries his face in her neck. "Mmm, right here. You're so sweet," he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, and then his tongue along the top of her breasts. Her head tilts back just a bit, and she sighs slowly.

"Don't bite me," she says, arching her back.

"Don't tell me what to do," Fred grins, unbuttoning the top button on her blouse.

"Fred..." she warns, looking down at him. Her voice drops to a whisper again. "Anybody could come up the stairs."

"That's how stairs work, yes," he answers cheekily, reaching to grip her ankle and pull it behind him. He wraps her leg around his waist and looks up at her from underneath his bangs.

"Wait, don't..." she starts, but there's a lovely buzzing feeling on her inner thighs now, and she knows he's so close to her, just his black trousers and boxer briefs... "I don't want you to..."

"I think you do," Fred says slowly. The air is thick between them, and his breath is hot on her neck as he wraps both arms around her, clasping his hands at the small of her back. He kisses her very softly, parting her lips with his tongue. Emily worries for a moment that she's put him off for too long. She can feel the heat of him, Fred rocks her entire body just running his tongue against hers, filling her mouth with his heat. The empathetic part of her almost melts as she realizes he's waited a while for her. Fred, who would lay in bed and make her laugh, make love to her ten times a day if she'd let him, kissing her hungrily and silently at the top of the stairs.

She wants to hear him, so she breaks the kiss gently, pushing on his chest with one hand. He looks at her dreamily, moving forward as she dips her head down to kiss his neck.

"Oh," he says involuntarily, sounding less sure of himself now. Emily closes her eyes happily, knowing she'll get what she wants from him. She shifts forward, draping both arms around his neck delicately, kissing up Fred's neck in a trail of soft, slow kisses that make him shiver. He makes a noise like a soft moan, and she knows she's on his spot now, just underneath and behind his ear.

Fred tilts his head away just a bit, his eyes closed and his mouth open slightly. The wonder of Emily's supple mouth on him is enough to send waves of warmth down his whole body. In an attempt to calm himself down, he tries to let his mind wander, but it's all Emily in her lavender dress, looking up at him, lying underneath him in the garden at night, and he's suddenly hard as a rock for her. He takes her chin in his hand and pulls her mouth to his again, this time wet and heavy, and when Emily moans softly into his mouth, he wraps both her legs around him tightly and lifts her with him, his mouth not leaving hers even as he makes the top three steps and moves down the hallway, his hands running up her back. He pulls out her hair clip a little roughly and drops it on the ground behind them, his fingers diving into her hair, still cool and soft from the shower.

His room is closer, and Emily reaches behind her to get the door-knob for him. Fred kicks the door shut behind him, feeling another wave of electricity as Emily sucks at his bottom lip and grinds her hips against him once. He stumbles on his way across the room and they land on his bed, kissing and moaning a little louder now. The window above his bed is open, and the soft summer evening is all around them.

"You know, I really do have work," Emily says serenely, her lush eyelashes batting at him a few times. He shrugs at her, working gently at the buttons on her blouse, pulling the bottom of it from inside her skirt where she's tucked it in. Underneath is her peach lace bra, one he hopes she'll let him keep when he goes back to school. He kisses the space between her collarbones slowly, pausing and breathing her in before moving downward, his hands sliding underneath her warm body and up her back to unhook her bra. This is one of the things he wishes he could tell people about, how he's figured out how to do it one-handed, and without her help.

Emily slides the strap off one shoulder, and then the other, returning Fred's self-satisfied smirk as he leans back on his knees, shrugging off his vest and watching her arch her back to undress completely. She lets her blouse fall off the side of his bed and doesn't notice when Fred covertly nicks her bra and tucks it into his back pocket.

"I'm going to miss this very much," she says suddenly, folding her arms under her head and looking up at him.

"There aren't any lookers in your year?" Fred returns, one eyebrow raised. He's gotten very good at this, challenging her. It's taken Emily the summer just to discern when he's trying to evade admitting something to her, and she knows this is one of those times.

"Well, sure, but your bed is so cushy," she grins, pushing the mattress down with one hand. When she looks back up at him, his smile has dropped.

"You're not..." he starts. Their voices overlap.

"Am I?"

It makes him nervous, when it's not filling him with hunger and a drive to touch her, that way Emily can lie almost naked in front of him like it's nothing. She's underneath him, sure, lying on her back, but Fred is acutely aware of where the controlling force of the whole situation lies. He feels something build inside him, something stronger than what he feels when Ron goes in to hug Emily, or when Bill makes a remark about Fred wasting his education in front of her. It's almost anger. He starts to take his shirt off, and almost rips off a button in the process.

"Honey," Emily says, sliding a hand up his thigh. She says it like she's comforting him, like she feels sorry for him.

"Is that the plan? Go back to school and start over with someone else?" he asks, looking down at her as he takes his shirt completely off. He tries to look indifferent, but she finds his erection with two fingers and runs them down his length slowly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Mmm, Fred..." she says softly, reaching to touch his chest with her other hand.

"Huh? Is that what you're gonna do?" he asks seriously, taking the hand near his chest in his, holding her wrist. He brings her arm back down to the bed, pinning her wrist above her head and meeting her eyes. Supporting himself on his arm, he presses his hips against her. "You're going to go back to school and shag somebody and forget about all of it?"

Emily hears his voice at a lower register. She can feel him, impossibly hard, against her thigh, and wishes he would kiss her again. Surprised by Fred's taking initiative, she wiggles her hand underneath his grip and realizes he's not going to let her go.

"What do you want to do about it?" she asks, trying to sound courteous. Fred being aggressive only makes her want to match him. She's determined not to break before he does, not to confess anything.

"I want you to tell my brothers they can't have you." Fred is almost surprised to hear it out-loud, but he's said it. Emily looks luminous and pleased, almost. She reaches up with her free hand to caress the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her. She kisses him softly again, and he kisses back, meeting her quiet comforting movements. He buries his face in her hair and runs his tongue around the lovely shape of her ear, making her shiver underneath him.

"They can't," she says simply.

"They don't know that," he murmurs into her ear, pausing before taking her earlobe between his teeth gently.

"Well, what would you want me to say? I can't just..." she trails off, her eyelids fluttering as he kisses downward, across her neck and chest.

"I want you to say, listen..." Fred says, smiling to himself as he slides both hands up Emily's waist to cup each of her perfect breasts. He rubs her right nipple with his thumb and kisses her all over, wanting just to bite into her like a peach, she's so soft and sweet. "You're all nice and everything, but Fred and I spend most afternoons fucking," he thrusts his hips against her as he says this, "and I don't want anyone else to touch you, Emily. I just don't." He realizes he's dropped his fantasy halfway through, but teasing each other about it hasn't gotten him anywhere.

"It could get messy," Emily says. It sounds more like an offering than an argument, like she's just trying to be difficult.

"No it won't. It's incredibly simple. I just want you for myself, all of you. Forever. That's the easiest thing I've ever heard," he laughs, leaning over her to meet her mouth and kiss her again. Fred can feel her smile against his. "Besides, you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone as handsome as me who wants to take you out. I mean, look at you, you're..." he dissolves into laughter in mid-sentence. "Alright, I was going to say you look awful, but you just..." He looks over her again, running his hands over her chest and feeling how her breasts are a perfect handful each for him.

"You don't think I could find someone as good-looking as you, then?" Emily repeats, laughing along with him. "I mean, Bill's quite the charmer, I wouldn't have to go very far..." As soon as she says it, she sees in Fred's eyes what she's done. He smiles ruefully at her.

"Oh, that's it for you, miss," he says, laughing.

"Ah, no, I take it back!" Emily says, clapping her hands over her mouth when she realizes her voice is too loud. Fred leans back and slides both hands up her thighs and under her skirt to pull if off. She kicks it off her legs and she grabs both her ankles and pushes them down to the bed.

"Oh no, you said it, and now I know how you feel. You're just shagging me until you can go away with him and read books and listen to boring lectures for the rest of your lives, is that it?" He pins her legs down with his knees, pulling them apart gently and admiring her panties, peach and lace to match her bra, which is still in his back pocket. "Speaking of sweet..."

"Were we?" Emily asks, but she gasps when Fred's mouth is against her, kissing her through her panties. He licks against the thin fabric, pressing his tongue against her and driving shivers of gold pleasure up and down her body. "Oh, Fred..."

"God, you're like...creme brulee all over...the whole entire lot of you," Fred breathes, pausing in between phrases to lick and kiss her.

"I love when you..." Emily can't even finish, and covers her face with her hands, sighing in ecstasy as Fred pushes aside the crotch of her panties. She shivers, waiting to feel him against and inside her, just bare with nothing between them.

"Like sugar," he says before dipping a finger into her slowly.

"Oh, God," Emily moans, tilting her hips up for more. He laughs quietly, pushing her back down with one hand.

"Shh...I want to take my time, you just wait for me until I'm done," Fred orders gently. He slides a second finger inside her, tight and wet, and starts to rub against the inside of her, his fingers curved like he's asking her to c'mere. He kisses her softly and then finds her clit with his tongue. He makes a seal over her hot little button with his mouth, sucking on her and pulsating his fingers inside her, doing all the things he's learned to make Emily squirm and breathe his name in that way he hears her say it in his dreams.

All of it together is maddening, and Emily reaches underneath her head for his pillow, pressing it into her face to keep from calling things out.

"That's right, Em...stay quiet, that's my girl. Old house, thin walls, you know..." Fred smirks before returning his tongue to her sweet and softness between her thighs. He pauses, holding his fingers still inside her, and feels her relax. When he moves them again, sliding in a third finger, Emily gasps into the pillow. He can make out his name over and over again.

When Emily comes, he presses his face into her thigh and works at her with his fingers, extending her orgasm and feeling her shudder all through her body.

I didn't know I could get so hard.

After a deep breath, Emily tosses his pillow to the side and sits up a little, reaching down to unbuckle his belt for him. They grin at each other, and Fred decides he has never felt this content before in his life. When Emily dips her hands into his pants and finds his cock, he feels like rolling his eyes back into his head and collapsing, it's so incredible.

"Jesus Christ, Fred, you're so big," she says breathlessly, like she did the first time she ever touched him. He murmurs his response, thinking only of her fingers, warm on the length of him as she develops a rhythm. With the window open, it's become a little cold as the sun has gone down, and he rips back the blanket for both of them to crawl underneath. Emily kisses him, matching his hunger now, and he loves her tongue and her mouth and hair, wishing he could stay there all through the night and morning and never leave her smooth body and only work to make her laugh again and again.

Fred looks down at Emily once he's broken their kiss. She gazes up at him, feeling she won't ever get him close enough, loving his brown expressive eyes and boyish grin.

"You want me to?" he asks breathily, and she nods.

"Please, Fred, I'm so ready for you..."

He slides his entire length inside her with one slow movement, and she sighs contentedly to feel him fit perfectly, filling her up. Pulling out and thrusting back in, this time faster, Fred buries his face in her neck and moans.

"Ah god, you're so fucking perfect..." he groans into her shoulder, and she gasps to feel his rhythm increase in speed. He slides in and out of her, his long college-boy cock slick and wonderful, almost impaling her when he's buried to the hilt inside her. Fred reaches a hand up to grip the headboard behind her, and they both go to kiss the other simultaneously.

Ron finds Emily's hairclip, the one shaped like a butterfly, on the ground near his bedroom door. He picks it up, his eyes wide, and pockets it quickly, assuming as only a young teenager would that she's left it for him as some kind of sign. When he hears Emily's voice from Fred's room, sounding like she's putting effort into something, he straightens up, remembering that Fred had mentioned helping her move things.

I can do that too.

When he opens the door slightly, he sees his older, filled-out brother in bed, his lean-muscled arm across Emily's body, holding the headboard with white knuckles like he's trying to break it. When Fred comes, it's with his mouth open, gasping Emily's name into her chest as she grips his copper hair with one hand, her head tilted back so Ron can see the curve of her white neck as she meets his brother at the peak.

He turns and walks to his room without closing the door behind him, holding Emily's clip in two hands like it's made of glass and ready to shatter at any moment.

"I love you." Fred says suddenly, punctuating the sentence by kissing Emily's mouth.

"I love you, Fred," she says, the corners of her mouth turned up in a kind of relieved smile that Fred has never seen before.

"I do, I'm sorry I didn't say it before. I love you, I love you, I want every bit of you. This is mine," he bites gently at pinkie finger, and then her shoulder, and then the curve of her breast "and this is mine, and this is mine..."