Remember, Carrie is a character I created, placed in the world J.K. Rowling created. All other characters and anything pertaining to the wizarding world of Harry Potter is credited to her.

Chapter 2: Disenchantment

Carrie tucked her long legs beneath her as she sat in her favorite chair in the Burrow. Lunchtime sounds filled the Burrow as mostly everyone was in the kitchen eating, except for her, of course. She woke up late, again, and felt she should wait until everyone was done eating proper lunch before she went and made eggs, since she missed breakfast. She bit at her thumbnail and pondered to herself.

Why did Fred affect her in his way? His fiery red hair always hung in his eyes like his brother, but she couldn't help but see them shine brilliantly from his freckled face. And what about Oliver? How was it that whenever she saw Fred, Oliver was far from her mind? She doubted that Fred would feel the same way. It would almost be kind of disrespectful if he made a move on his former Quidditch captain's girlfriend. Oh, what a mess this was.

"Hey, has anyone see Carrie?" came a voice from the kitchen.

"No. I think she's still sleeping," came distinctively Fred's voice. His voice differed from George's slightly; it was definitely deeper and he had a way of speaking that let you know he was holding back. "I don't understand how. She goes to sleep the same time we do and it's not even that late."

"Clearly, Fred, you have no idea what you're talking about," declared young Ginny Weasley. "I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to find her cot completely empty. It's almost as if she's vanished for the night. However, when I awake, she's sound asleep as if she'd been there all night."

Carrie felt it best to finally present herself. She didn't want to feel rude; she always loved coming to the Burrow, yet lately she felt like she didn't want to be around them all the time. She pushed open the kitchen door to find them all hunched over their plates, eating sandwiches and chips.

"Hello, all," she declared brightly.

They all glanced up at her nonchalantly, as if they blatantly hadn't been talking about her just seconds before.

"Oh, Carrie, would you like something to eat?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Carrie just shook her head. "No thanks. I don't really feel like eating right now." It was a lie. Her stomach was growling big time, but she didn't want to say that she didn't feel like sitting down and eating with the whole family. It would seem rude.

"Carrie, where do you go in the middle of the night?" asked George suddenly. "Ouch!" Ginny slyly punched him in the arm.

Carrie tried her best to set her face in a perturbed expression. "What do you mean?"

"He means nothing, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "What you do is what you do. You know this is your home, too, so if you leave your bed, it doesn't mean you're doing anything bad."

Carrie just shrugged. She knew exactly what George was talking about, but she didn't want to admit to it. Lately, she'd been feeling so guilty about how she felt around Fred that she'd arranged to meet with Oliver half a mile away from the Burrow so they could sit, talk, etc. She just didn't want to admit to it in front of the whole family.

"I think I'll go and put a few things away so I don't have to pack later on for when we return to school," she said, backing towards the door and making a clean get away.

She sprinted up the haphazard stairs and ended up in the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione. In all the times she'd been to the Burrow, Carrie never had that urge to bond with either of them. I suppose it's because I've known Fred and George longer, she thought to herself. Instead of packing, she lie down on her cot and stared at the ceiling, wondering if she could bring Oliver back to Burrow tonight without anyone noticing. As she pondered her thoughts, she distinctly heard a sniffle outside the door and sat upright abruptly.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not bothering." Fred poked his head in the door.

"No, actually, you're not," she replied, suddenly aware of her hands. What to do with them? They just sat lamely in her lap.

"Well, I'm actually curious," he said, closing the door and sitting next to her on the cot. She was aware how his closeness made her feel warm and she could smell, faintly, a hint of cologne.

"Oh? As to what?" she replied.

"Ahem. Where you really go at night? Mum thinks you just wander downstairs, but I get the distinct impression that you actually leave," he said, as he kept his head down so his red locks fell into his eyes.

Carrie brushed the lock out of his eye, and suddenly drew back as if electrocuted. "Honestly?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly want you to lie to me, now, would I?" he inquired facetiously.

"I've been meeting with Oliver a bit away from here," she replied, putting her head down as though guilty of something horrible. "It's just it'll be a sudden change in no longer being able to see him everyday, so, I thought it would be okay…" she trailed off and finally looked up at Fred.

Expressionless, he just stared at her. "Oh. So, how is Oliver," he asked in a flat tone.

"Doing well," she replied. "I reckon he got picked up by Puddlemore. He's really happy about it. Are you all right, though? You look a bit ill."

"Oh, why, thank you," he said sarcastically. "I think I'll go round everyone up for a game of Quidditch. I don't suppose you'd want to invite Oliver over for that, would you?"

"Er… no? Fred, are you sure-?" she couldn't complete her sentence because it seemed as though Fred we off-put by the fact she'd been meeting Oliver late at night. "Never mind. I suppose I should really pack now since you're going off and maybe –"

It only lasted an instant, it being Fred brushing his lip gently on hers. He stood quickly, his face flushed brightly red and in silence, he strode out the door. She sat, stunned and puzzled by what had just happened as her heart pounded against her rib cage furiously.