A/N: I missed writing for Fred, George, and Angie, so here's a little something I thought up to remedy that. I realized I never wrote for Angela's birthday in Triumphant Gold so this is what happened on that day. I know I had put it as after the war in Triumphant Gold, but for all intents and purposes, it now occurs the day before Angela finds the warm Galleon in Ginny's purse.

Deviating from the usual POV of Angie's, I decided to do a three-way POV: the day as seen through all three characters. Hope you enjoy it. :-)

(If you have not read my Color Series, you most likely be very confused, just so you know.)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with Harry Potter. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I only own Angela Barry.

Rating: PG-ish I guess

Genre: Friendship/Humor/Romance/Angst

Summary: While trapped at Aunt Muriel's, Angela Barry's birthday arrives. What follows is a day of Weasley antics and unfortunately some heartache as well. A Fred/Angie/George fic.

Have a Happy Birthday . . . Or Else

I awoke that morning feeling not at all like I had just turned nineteen. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains that covered the windows of Aunt Muriel's house. I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, figuring that since it was my birthday I could sleep in, but the blinding light would not let me. With a groan I sat up, blinking my eyes rapidly until the blurriness faded away. Stretching my arms forward, I glanced over to the spot on the bed next to me where Ginny usually slept. She was not there. Frowning slightly, I pushed back the covers and got up, getting changed quickly. It was a Saturday and it was rare on such days that Ginny got up before I did.

However as I ran a brush through my long, caramel-colored hair, I wondered if she was up in order to surprise me downstairs with something for my birthday. This thought excited me and I hurriedly left the room, heading downstairs, eager to find out what the Weasleys were going to give me. Everyone seemed to be in the kitchen so I walked over and entered with a bright smile, anticipating some sort of giant welcome.

My smile slipped at the scene I saw before me. Mrs. Weasley was hunched over a cup of tea; her red hair streaked with gray was falling from the messy bun on top of her head and her face appeared weary. Mr. Weasley was seated next to her, holding her hand and speaking quietly to her. I backed out of the room slowly, not wanting to interrupt. Turning away, I wondered if the twins and Ginny had planned to surprise me in a less obvious place. This made sense so I began wandering aimlessly about the house, checking random doors as I passed them.

When I found no one, I frowned, placing my hands on my hips. Suddenly the thought entered my head that maybe they had forgotten. My frown deepened. No, the Weasleys would not forget my birthday, would they? As I stood pondering, the twins barged in the front door, laughing and talking about something. They stopped when they saw me standing in the middle of the living room, hands-on-hips and frowning.

"Uh-oh," George said.

"What'd we do now?" Fred asked, his face falling into a look of deep mourning. I was sorely tempted to smile but was able to keep myself in check.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" I asked pointedly, sighing at their rather blank expressions.

Ginny came into the house behind them. "Who forgot what?" she asked, shaking her blazing wind-swept hair off her face.

I stared at her incredulously. She stared back questioningly and then rolled her eyes in exasperation when I did not answer.

"What?" she asked impatiently.

I huffed in annoyance. "And you call yourselves my friends!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air in frustration. George blinked and a flicker of hurt crossed his face. He glanced helplessly at Fred who shrugged.

"We are your friends, Angie," he said with a confused frown. I crossed my arms and scowled.

"Words!" I exclaimed.

Ginny flushed angrily, her bright red cheeks clashing with the red of her hair. "What in the world are you talking about, Angela?" she demanded to know, her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, what she said," added Fred, jerking a thumb over at his sister. George nodded emphatically and I could see they just weren't getting it. This frustrated me to no end. How could they have forgotten?

"Humph," I said, turning away to walk back up the stairs to the room me and Ginny shared. "Fine then, since you guys obviously have better things on your mind, I'll just go celebrate my birthday by myself."

I hurried up the stairs and entered the room, shutting it firmly behind me and then throwing myself on the bed. I knew I was acting like a child and being very selfish, but I had really been excited to find out what the Weasleys had planned for me. Only they hadn't planned anything, which was a major disappointment for me. There was no one else to wish me a happy birthday, just them. I sighed and reached for my locket, missing Cedric once more.

A tentative knock sounded at my door. I sat up and brushed away my tears, thinking it must be one of the twins.

"Come in," I said. I was surprised when the door opened to reveal Ginny. She took in my expression and grimaced, shutting the door behind me.

Walking over to the bed, she sat down and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she looked over at me. She did not say anything for a moment and I felt the weight of guilt settle over me.

"Sorry about that downstairs, Ginny," I said, cringing slightly. "It was rather immature, I know."

She snorted in dismissal at my words. "Don't worry about it," she said. "If my family had forgotten my birthday, I would have thrown a bigger fit than that."

I allowed a small smile. "Thanks, Gin," I said gratefully.

"Anyway," Ginny continued. "Ignore my stupid brothers. Their brains obviously aren't working today." She suddenly looked sheepish. "Although I'm sorry for not catching on. I-I've had a lot on my mind lately."

I instantly thought of Harry and felt terrible for getting so upset at her for forgetting. I reached over and placed my hand on her foot, grimacing slightly at my own stupid brain.

"No, I'm sorry, Ginny. It was very inconsiderate of me to worry about people forgetting my birthday when Harry, Hermione, and Ron are out there who knows where!" I shook my head at my idiocy. Ginny grinned suddenly.

"So none of our brains are working today; at least no one feels left out." She snickered, obviously enjoying this embarrassment of ours. I had to roll my eyes.

There was another knock on my door; I turned toward it. "Come in!" I shouted, even thought I'm sure whoever it was could have heard me without raising my voice.

A shock of bright red hair appeared first then was followed by Fred's somewhat sheepish face. He gestured rather frantically to Ginny.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, glancing at me and then pleadingly at his sister. Said sister rolled her eyes, which somehow was much more convincing than my rolling, and slid off the bed, following Fred out of the door. I pulled my legs up to my chest and waited.

I did not have to wait long. Only a few minutes later, Ginny was back looking flushed and irritated.

"Idiots," she muttered, giving the bed post a death glare that should have caused it to burst into flames. I looked at her warily.

"What?" I asked, lowering my legs and standing.

She seemed to snap out of whatever she was thinking of for she jumped slightly and looked over at me with a placid expression.

"What? Oh. . . . Nothing." Her hand slapped against her thigh in an agitated way. I looked on amused. I knew she was holding back something, but I wasn't about to drag it out of her. There was a moment of long silence before she broke with an abrupt "So!"

I glanced sidelong at her. "So . . .?"

"Let's play some Exploding Snap."

Before I could ask why, she had pulled out her wand and said "Accio Exploding Snap!" and the pack of cards came flying through the window, exploding the window pane with a rather loud snap. She winced.

"Oops."

I sighed and then shrugged, settling myself on the ground in front of Ginny as she did the same. She dealt the cards and we began to play; she promptly beat me three rounds in. I was just about to become bored with the game and ask her why she was keeping me here playing this, when there was another knock on the door. I stood swiftly and ran over to open it, grinning slightly when I saw who it was.

"Yes Fred? Did you want something?"

The redhead glanced over my shoulder to where Ginny was. I turned slightly to see her and she quickly hid her hands behind her back and grinned innocently. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to look up at Fred expectantly.

He bowed languorously and my lips twitched upwards slightly. "With your permission," he began in a voice full of pomposity. "I would like to escort the birthday girl to a marvelous picnic set up for a certain occasion outside." He held forth his hand and I heard a snigger behind me. Not turning to look at Ginny this time, I held my head high and placed my hand in his.

"You have my permission, kind sir," I said, making my voice sound imperious just like his. His face broke out into a bright grin and he tucked my hand around his arm as he led me down the stairs. I felt rather silly marching out of the house like the Queen of England, but I didn't want to ruin the fun.

I caught sight of George as we headed out and gave him a small wave. He waved back but I noticed he appeared somewhat despondent. Frowning slightly I turned to look up at Fred as he opened the door for me.

"What's wrong with George?" I asked curiously, wondering if it had anything to do with my temper-tantrum earlier.

"What? Oh he's just sore because I told him he couldn't join us," Fred said with an impish grin. I raised my eyebrows.

"Why—"

Fred cut me off by stopping and laying a hand on my shoulder, pointing over to a spot behind Aunt Muriel's house that was shaded by a couple trees. I could not keep a smile from spreading across my face at the sight.

A picnic blanket had been set out and there was a rather large meal prepared on it, a classic basket set off to the side. As we drew nearer I noticed a familiar looking book that had been placed next to the basket. Fred began to steer me toward the food, but I shrugged him off and went to pick up the book. I gasped when I looked at the title.

"Pride and Prejudice?" I exclaimed. "This is one of my most favorite books!" I looked at him over it. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Reaching over, he plucked it out of my hands and flipped through it, nodding to the food with a pointed look.

"Eat up," he told me. "And I will read aloud to you."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically even as I lowered myself onto the blanket. "You reading Jane Austen? I thought you were a Gryffindor." I smirked slightly as Fred gave me a playful glare.

"Stop ruining my attempt at a romantic birthday picnic," he scolded and both my eyebrows rose.

"Romantic?" I asked incredulously, wondering what he was getting at. Involuntarily my heart fluttered and I told it to stop immediately. Ever since Christmas these unwarranted feelings kept flying through my stomach and around my heart and I wanted it to stop. . . . Only I didn't want it to stop. Argh. I rubbed my left ring finger where there was still no band of engagement. By all appearances, I was still available. But Fred knew better. And I knew that he knew that I knew that he knew better. That last thought confused me so I stopped where I was.

"Romantic," Fred echoed firmly with a wink. He sat down beside me and continued rifling through the book, obviously looking for a place to start reading. I watched him warily even as I reached over to a strawberry tart and picked it up, biting into it and relishing the sudden burst of sweetness in my mouth.

Finally finding a page, he began reading, his jovial tone completely ruining the intensity of the scene which, I realized with a start, was my absolute favorite (the part where Lizzie tells Mr. Darcy when and why he started liking her). However my surprise soon gave way to amusement as Fred stumbled over the large words and butchered the scene to within an inch of its life.

At last I could stand it no longer. I burst out in a giggle, which turned into a laugh, which dissolved into a great guffaw that had me rolling over with laughter and caused Fred to halt his reading and peer over the top of the book at me with a frown of disapproval.

"I don't see what you're so hysterical about," he said with an indignant sniff. His eyes were twinkling merrily though, and he soon laughed himself and closed the book, handing it over to me.

"Yeah, I didn't understand a word they were saying anyway," he admitted with a shrug, laying himself out on the other side of the food and helping himself to several tarts. I grinned slightly over at him and he grinned back, his teeth faintly red from the tart he was still chewing. My smile widened at the sight.

I reached for a small cake and ate it slowly, relishing the taste. I wondered vaguely if Mrs. Weasley had made all the food. I looked over at Fred who was watching me.

"Thanks Fred," I said. "For all of this."

"You're welcome, Angie," Fred said, smiling again, although this time something had changed. The smile was tender and the eyes held some faint longing of some kind. My gaze faltered and I turned my face away, my heart hammering practically out of my chest. Why, oh, why did he have to be so sweet? This was ruining everything.

I felt his gaze on me and glanced at him surreptitiously. When he saw my face turned towards him, he leaned forward suddenly. I stiffened, wondering if he was going to kiss me. A part of me wanted him to, but another, a larger part, wanted him to stay away. His hand reached out for my face and I watched him warily. It stayed on my cheek just for a moment before pulling away, a dab of strawberry jam on its finger. I blushed sheepishly, feeling foolish for thinking he was going to kiss me.

"I would have kept it there for you to find later," Fred told me with a teasing grin. "But I doubted you would want to show up for your surprise party with jam on your face."

I started. "Surprise party?" I inquired curiously.

He grimaced. "Oh, I guess it's not much of a surprise now, is it?" I just looked at him. He shrugged. "When we're done out here, I'm supposed to take you inside where Mum and Dad and Ginny and them are waiting for us with a cake for you and some presents and stuff."

"So this was all just a distraction," I concluded, gesturing to the picnic.

He frowned, his freckled brow wrinkling slightly. "No," he said firmly. "This was my birthday present to you. I wanted to give you something extra special." He grinned hesitantly.

I smiled. "It is special," I said. "Thank you."

He simply grinned once more and then dove into the food. I laughed and followed his example. Once we were finished, he took out his wand and set things to picking themselves up and putting themselves away. Handing me my new book, he took my hand and walked me back toward the house. I could not help but compare his hands to Draco's as he did so.

Where Draco's hands were pale, slender, and sometimes clammy, Fred's was freckled, rough, and dry. They reminded me of Cedric's hands and of my father's. Where I'm sure Draco never worked with his hands at all his entire life, Fred probably worked harder than a lot of the kids at the school. The Weasleys were not a rich family. They sometimes had enough money to be almost labeled middle class, but only almost and not very often at all. They all had to work hard at the Burrow, and it showed.

Giving Fred's hand a gentle squeeze just before we entered Aunt Muriel's house, I was reminded how much I loved this family. Every Weasley I had met held a special place in my heart and I loathed the day I would have to leave them to live at the Malfoy's mansion. Compared to the warmth and love I felt at the Burrow, Draco's home, I knew, could only be dark, cold, and unfeeling. It was not a pleasant place to be looking forward to staying at.

As soon as we entered the kitchen, Fred and I were instantly covered in confetti and streamers as a magnificent shout of "Happy Birthday!" echoed throughout the house. I laughed delightedly as I had not been expecting the shower of sparkling paper or the enormous cake that now graced the middle of the table.

Glancing over at Mrs. Weasley I saw that, although the lines of wear and worry were still all over her face, she appeared much jollier and like herself. This gladdened my heart and I found I was able to enjoy the time more fully.

Ginny gave me a blazer she had knitted herself (proof of her obvious boredom here at Aunt Muriel's house), which was a dark green color that complimented my complexion marvelously. I thanked her heartily and was pleased to see a flush of color come into her cheeks that was not brought on by anger or frustration.

Mrs. Weasley gave me a rather lopsided and gaudy scarf that she made me. Its colors were burgundy and yellow, a combination which made everyone else in the room grimace. I, however, thanked her kindly, for I knew she had put a lot of effort into it.

Mr. Weasley gave me a Muggle's clock which he had been studying when they had to retreat into hiding. It did not work, and was rather rusty and old, but I knew it was one of his most prized possessions in this house and I told him I would treasure it always.

Aunt Muriel gave me more stockings. It seemed like the only thing she could find in her house to give us was stockings and more stockings. I assumed she had a bunch up in the attic from the days of her children's childhood, and, although I could have gone without, I thanked her for them.

George came forward almost hesitantly it seemed. He handed me a wrapped box that revealed a rather unusual looking Weasley Wizard Wheezes and grinned slightly.

"Specially made for you," he told me with a wink. Fred walked over to his brother and began punching his arm good-naturedly, trying to figure out which ones his twin had given me.

We had a large dinner, but I was only able to eat some of it, being rather full from the picnic, and cut the cake afterwards. When asked to make my wish and blow out the candles, I suddenly could not think of anything besides Harry, Hermione, and Ron. It seemed somewhat selfish to be here celebrating my birthday in great fun while they were out who knows where, doing who knows what, to conquer You-Know-Who.

I wished for their safe return and quickly blew out the candles before their flames began to grow bigger before my eyes and remind me of my father's death. Everyone clapped as the fire disappeared and then Mrs. Weasley cut the cake and we all had some. It was delicious, as I knew it would be.

Once everything was done, it was late in the afternoon and everyone began to wander off to do their own things. I carried my presents up to the room I shared with Ginny. Setting them on the old, roll-top desk, I admired them for a moment before picking up Pride and Prejudice and heading downstairs to my favorite large armchair to read it.

Thus the hours went by. Once it started getting dark, I yawned and decided I should get to bed. The midday meal had been substantial enough that I was not hungry, and so I went up the stair to get ready, carrying my book with me. I was at the top and headed toward the room when George stopped me. His hands were clasped behind his back and his eyes flickered from the book in my hands to my face.

"You going to bed?" he asked, studying me closely for some reason.

I nodded. "I'm tired, and I'm not really hungry so you and Fred can have my portion of dinner." I grinned slightly and he gave me a quick smile in return.

"Well, goodnight," I said, moving forward to open the door to my and Ginny's room. I was just opening it when George spoke again.

"Angie?" he said, almost hesitantly it seemed. I turned to look at him expectantly.

"Yes?"

He hesitated further, and glanced away for a moment before sighing softly and turning back to give me a slight grin.

"Happy Birthday," he said finally.

I grinned back. "Thanks. Goodnight."

I went in and shut the door as he muttered a soft "'Night, Angie" that sounded somewhat mournful. I wondered at this for a moment, and then decided he must be disappointed that I was not going to stay up with them late like I had the previous night. That question answered, I got changed for bed and climbed into it, pulling the sheets up to my chin as I closed my eyes and smiled slightly, thinking the day had turned out alright after all.

Reviews make my day! Now, on to Fred's POV! :-D