Lessons Learned

Fred frowned down at his boots, brow furrowing and shoulders sagging. George was pressed against his side as always, knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder, sitting on their bench. Usually there was a clamor of elbows bumping together, but tonight in the dim of the changing room George was the only twin even moving. George turned and peered at his brother. Fred seemed lost in thought.

George clapped him soundly on the back in an attempt to snap him out of his reverie. Fred didn't budge.

"You okay, Fred?" George asked with deepening concern.

"Fine," Fred responded, still avoiding his eyes.

George stood and finished changing, keeping one eye on his unmoving twin. "Ready to go, Fred? C'mon, get changed."

"Go ahead without me, Georgie," Fred said, still unmoving. George sighed.

His least favorite thing was being by himself. The way he saw it, being by yourself was something you had to be acclimated to, and once he was he might even be able to mildly enjoy it. However, being by himself for limited and sporadic bouts of time was disconcerting, unusual, and uncomfortable, only made worse when he was rejoined by Fred. Why couldn't he have consistency? Why couldn't he have reliability?

Later he'd voice these feelings to Fred and Fred would say, "You knew this was what you were getting into when you volunteered to be my other twin," completely ignoring the nonsensical turn his logic had taken, and George would say, "You know very well I would never sign up for this," and Fred would snicker and move on without any decisions being made.

In this moment, Fred grinned his wicked grin at him and George knew he was having thoughts. Thoughts George wasn't having. More unusual, uncomfortable behavior. When Fred had thoughts George didn't have, things usually went very wrong.

"Not this time, Georgie," Fred said, and it comforted George to know that Fred still knew what he was thinking, at least. George frowned and shrugged down at his brother, turning toward the door.

Charlie was walking past them and out the door, and George matched his stride with his older brother, who looked down and smiled. "Hello there, George."

George looked up and nodded. "Captain," he said curtly, and Charlie barked laughter and ruffled his hair.

When they were gone it was almost entirely quiet. Just a few stragglers left after practice and Fred changed faster than he knew he could. He left the changing room and stood a little distance from it, watching it. He wondered whether she was even still in there, and agonized over the idea that maybe she wasn't even here, and he would be locked out of the castle and spend the night in the Forbidden Forest.

But soon enough she emerged. By herself, and Fred loved that about her, how every other girl wandered in a pack and she would take time by herself. He admired that.

"Angelina!" he called, and he could do it, he knew he could do it. Her head whipped around and he saw her illuminated in the light from the castle.

She smiled at him. She was so pretty.

"Hi, Weasley!" Angelina called back, and waved at him to come to her. He bowed his head and walked to her side. As soon as he was there, she made to continue the trek to the castle.

He reached out and pulled at her elbow, saying softly, "Hey-"

She turned back to look at him, with a quizzical grin on her face. "Yeah, Weasley?"

He looked into her eyes and realized that she was just a bit taller than he was.

"I want to kiss you, Johnson."

He hadn't told a single soul his plan. Something that had been running through his mind since the moment he'd met her, a year ago, smiling in the sun on the Hogwarts Express, dressed in her new robes. He'd seen her and known.

He wanted to kiss her. It was deep and powerful and new, coursing through his body and propelling him toward this moment on this day. He'd known it would be this day, as soon as he'd woken up and when he'd gotten marks back on his Charms exam and done fabulously, and when he'd bludgered Oliver square in the face during practice and when she'd thrown her head back and laughed and laughed and laughed.

This day. This moment. "I want to kiss you."

And maybe his voice faltered a little and maybe fear flickered in his eyes and maybe she caught sight of it and maybe she fell a little bit in love with the fact that he couldn't possibly get any closer to her, that she'd have to move just a bit forward and step into his space.

Those facts are vague. What isn't vague is the fact that she did move forward, and pull him in like a planet to a star.

Their lips met. He was twelve and she was thirteen, and with their eyes closed and their mouths shut they kissed. Angelina and Fred knew it was awkward, and they knew they were young. They knew that their friends would giggle, and there would be rhymes and chanting. They knew that outside this moment, things would be different. They knew that, but they didn't think about it.

They thought about how, when they went to sleep that night, they would feel as if their lives had changed forever. They would be right.