The wedding reception started as soon as the tent was converted into a dance floor. Fred walked slowly towards Samantha, but a small red haired girl ran up to him before he could get to her. The little girl tugged on the bottom of his jacket and he squatted down to look her in the eye. After a few moments, he nodded and took the little girl's hand. He looked back at Samantha and shrugged with an amused smile.

Samantha smiled as Fred pulled the little girl on top of his feet and slowly started to dance with her. She went to a table to watch the dancers more comfortably. She wasn't there long before George appeared, giving her an over embellished bow.

"Care to dance?" he asked.

Samantha smiled and gave him a nod. George grinned widely and pulled her effortlessly onto the floor. They moved slowly, watching the other dancers. It was a while before George broke the silence.

"You know," he said slowly. "I used to think you were a freak."

The statement caught her off guard. "Beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," George said matter-of-factly. "I thought for the longest time there was something wrong with you. Our own mother couldn't tell us apart sometimes, but you could from the beginning. It gave me the creeps sometimes, but Fred thought it was the most wonderful thing to happen to him since he made his first joke. He said it made him feel like for the first time we didn't have to share something. In you he found something that was only his."

His comment made her heart flutter. She looked over at Fred from where she danced and he smiled back at her. Her eyes went back to George's.

"You know what that feels like too, Georgie Boy," Samantha said softly. "Or was that just a mistake?"

George's face fell into a solemn expression.

"No," he said softly after a moment. "She…she was never a mistake."

"Well," she said, trying to lighten the now somber mood between them. She gestured to the hole where his ear had been. "I'm not the only one who can tell you two apart now. Does that mean I'm no longer a freak?"

"No," George said with a chuckle. "Now my reason is that you chose Fred over my dashing good looks."

Samantha rolled her eyes.

"Seriously though," George said. "He's loved you longer than you think he has. Don't make him wish he didn't."

"Trust me, Georgie Boy," she said with a smile. "That's never going to happen."

"Now that's what I like to hear," he said, and spun her.

He let her go mid spin, and for a moment, Samantha thought she was going to fall. But she was caught, and she looked up into the eyes of Fred. She found herself smiling stupidly, like she always did when she saw him.

"What did you two find to talk about?" he asked, grinning.

"Other than some very embarrassing things about you," Samantha answered. "That you've loved me for a long time."

"Really…?" He looked up from her towards his twin. She watched as the two of them seemed to speak volumes with just their eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked back at her, his face serious. "Can we talk?"

"Of course," she said, trying not to let her sudden discomfort by his mood change show.

He nodded and led her by the hand away from the festivities. He walked her to the garden, an area of the yard that was vacant. It took most of her willpower not to investigate the many different flowers; some she hadn't seen since her days at Hogwarts.

Fred took a deep breath and turned her to face him. He took both of her hands in his own and stared at the ground for a long time. He let his breath out loudly.

"There's something we need to discuss," he said, looking up from the ground. "And I need to say it before I lose my nerve."

Before he could say another word, they heard the rapid approach of footsteps.

"Fred!" Mrs. Weasley's voice pierced the tranquility of the flower garden. She looked from her son to Samantha. She smiled warmly. "You must be Sam! I'm so glad I've finally got to meet you. It's so nice to finally put a face to everything I've heard over these years. You're as lovely as Fred said you were. I didn't believe him at first, because I kept wondering, 'what would a girl like that want in my little Freddie?'"

"Thanks a lot, Mum," Fred grumbled, his ears growing red.

Samantha wondered just how long Fred had been talking about her. This was the second time in one day that a Weasley had alluded to a long time frame of hearing about her. They had started talking in their third year, although she had been smitten with him since first. She reassured herself that it had to have been much later in their relationship; she had a hard time believing he would've given her a second thought that long ago.

She was on her way back from a winter Herbology course. Snow was falling softly, and once again, she was ill prepared for the weather. She clutched her books and paperwork to her chest and continued up to the castle.

When she reached the courtyard, she was greeted by the laughter of several students. She looked towards the sound and squinted through the snow. It was a crowd of students, and if it hadn't been for the bright red hair in the center she would have never been able to tell what all the commotion was about. The twins were the center of attention, as always, and probably in the middle of a great joke. She shook her had and quickened her pace, desperate to get out of the cold and away from the feelings that were invading her.

She had almost made it to the steps when fate took matters into its own hands. Her foot made contact with a patch of ice and time moved too fast and agonizingly slow at the same time. She felt herself falling, her papers flying everywhere, but couldn't break the fall. She landed ungracefully, smacking her bum and elbows against the frozen ground.

As she sat analyzing what had just happened, she heard the cruel laughter of the students nearby. Obviously, they had all lost interest in the joke and found something much funnier. She turned away from them to fight off tears. She heard the crunch of snow as someone approached.

"Are you okay?" A voice above her asked.

She looked up from the ground to the face of Fred Weasley. Her eyes widened, and she was quite thankful that cold weather had already reddened her face.

"Yeah," she said quickly. She started to gather her strewn belongings. "Just a little embarrassed, but I'll survive."

"Well," he said, squatting down. "Let me help you pick all of this up then."

They worked in silence for a few moments, until everything had been recovered from the snow. He held out to her what he had picked up, smiling winningly.

"Thanks, Fred," she whispered, reaching out for the papers.

A strange look came over his face and he pulled the papers back from her. "How do you know I'm Fred? I could be George. We're both devilishly handsome, you know."

She wished the questions were rhetorical, but the expectant look on his face reassured her they weren't. "Well, just little things I've noticed that make you two different. You're twins, not clones."

He looked very pleased with her answer and handed back the paperwork. After Samantha had transferred everything under one arm, Fred offered her his hand to help her up. She took it, and after covering her hand with his other hand, he lifted her off of the snow.

"Well," she said nervously, after he released her hand. "I guess I'll be going."

"Wait," he called after her. "How about I walk you to the Great Hall? We can get some hot cocoa in there, and I know you're cold."

Again, she was grateful that her face was already red. "Sure."

He walked beside her into the castle. It was a few moments before he spoke again. "You're Sam, right? You're friends with that blonde girl, Mary."

"That's me," Samantha answered. "Although no one's ever called me Sam before. Mum says if I was supposed to have a boy's name, I would have been born a boy."

She saw out of the corner of her eye that Fred looked embarrassed.

"But I like it," she added quickly. "I wouldn't mind a nickname. Just don't look so depressed."

He smiled widely and laughed. He threw his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."