Angelina Johnson, 1994
My eyes are muddy, my hair is muddy... even my laugh is a bit muddy.
As I lie here on the Quidditch Pitch, caked from head to toe in mud I cannot help but wonder what on earth led to this event occurring. This is more than a little out of character for me, being out on the Quidditch pitch in the middle of the night, playing around in the mud with Fred Weasley.
A pair of firm, strong, yet kind hands grab my shoulders and I force my eyes open and smile up at him, his large green eyes sparkling down me, his face equally as muddy as my own.
"You right there Johnson?" He asks, his red hair is now a muddy brown, I try hard to keep the smile off my face, but am unable to, for all my strength I cannot resist the charm of Fred Weasley.
"I was alright, until you tackled me off my broom and into the mud." I state, trying hard to keep up the wall until I'm sure that he feels something towards me, something similar to what I feel.
"I apologise, but it was too hard to resist, seeing you sitting there all clean and proper when there was so much glorious mud beneath you!" As he speaks his eyes light up with energy and he kneels above me and pulls me into sitting position, his arms firmly behind my back, and a large goofy smile on his face.
"Fred Weasley, you are a danger to society." I state firmly, he gives a small chuckle and with the back of his hand pushes some mud away from my face, or at least he attempts to, instead it smudges the large globule into a long streak, but in all honesty, I don't particularly mind.
His eyes stare into me, unblinking, unwavering. I begin to get flustered; it is almost like he is staring into my soul. I go to move, I feel naked and uncomfortable, I feel like I am no longer in control, and I, Angelina Johnson, Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor, am always in control.
Fred holds me firmly in my place as I try to squirm away, and I look at him suspiciously, wondering what is going through that amazing, albeit crazy, mind of his. He cocks his head to the side slightly, and purses his lips obviously deep in thought; I cock my head like his and mock him.
A smile crosses his face, but it is not his normal large smile that I am so used to, something is different, obviously wrong, I just wish that he would tell me what it was. I decide to ask, despite having tackled me into the mud he is my friend, one of my best friends, and I care about him greatly.
"Is something wrong?" My voice is quiet even to my own ear's, it sounds soft and almost trembles, I don't really understand what is coming over me, but I know that it's something to do with just how close Fred Weasley is to me right now.
"Nothing's wrong Angie, except for a rather annoying lump of mud on your lips that's bugging the hell out of me." My eyes widen. So he has been glancing at my lips this whole time... Just not in the way I thought. He laughs. I cannot believe he is laughing at me. I try once more to squirm and remove myself from the situation, but his strong muscular body has somehow secured me to the ground as he stops laughing and grins at me idiotically.
"Will you stop moving Angelina and just let me kiss you?" He asks bluntly, I cannot help but stare in shock at what he has just said to me. Out loud and in the open, no form of romance of any sort, just a blunt, almost annoyed statement. Were it not for the look in his eyes right now I would be very offended.
Suddenly, I feel his lips upon me own... I taste... mud. My first kiss with Fred Weasley and it tastes like gritty, dirty, Quidditch Pitch mud.
We both pull back and look at each other with confusion, trying to understand what we are feeling. Fred's green eyes are still slightly hooded and closed as he looks down at me with a strange, dream-like expression on his face.
My heart is beating, thudding loudly against my chest, thrilled that after almost six years of friendship Fred Weasley and I have kissed. Nevertheless, I regain my composure, as I spot a chance to regain control over the situation.
"You, Fred Weasley, taste like mud." We both look at each other for a long moment before bursting into laughter as we flop back in the mud. Fred digs his hand into the sloppy mess and raises it above me; I freeze and stare at him with wide eyes. I try to move but he is still on top of me so any chance of escape is futile,
"Don't. You. Dare." I say, ensuring that I speak slowly and loudly so that he has no excuse to not hear what I have said, the look of murder on my face should be enough to stop him in his tracks... Or at least it would be, if he were not Fred Weasley. For a moment he pauses, looks at me and then at the handful of mud, he bites his lip as he weighs up what he is going to do.
I see my chance and dig my fingers into the mud at my side, trying not to squirm as I feel the grits sink underneath my nails. Fred is still weighing up his choice, but I am more decisive and with a resolute amount of force I fling the large handful of mud into his face. Fred jumps back in shock and I take this opportunity to leap up, grab some more handfuls of mud and begin to run (or rather slip all over the place), throwing the handfuls back at him as I slip and slide, laughing whilst all the while being pelted with handfuls of mud.
In the end we limp into the great hall, up to Gryffindor Corridor, leaving a trail of mud behind us as a present for Filch, we even take the long routes just as an extra big surprise for him. Now, we pause in the common room smiling at each other like idiots, Fred grabs me forcefully, a serious expression on his face beneath all the mud,
"Angelina Johnson, you're a swell gal." He states in an over the top American accent, before sweeping me down in his arms for another, mud tinged kiss. He stands me up right and winks, before sauntering off towards his dormitory...
As I stare in the mirror, I realise that my eyes are muddy, my hair is muddy, and as I chuckle, I realise that even my laugh is a little bit muddy.