A/N: Thanks for coming back for chapter 2! As per usual, I don't own Harry Potter. Enjoy!

Previously:

"Running from something?" the first boy asked. He was tall with dark hair, pale skin, and icy grey eyes. His voice was saccharine and menacing, but I wasn't about to run back into the corridor.

"You could say that," I started, eyeing the silver and green Slytherin crest on his robes. Bingo. "I'm Gemma Fry." My family is pureblood. We prefer to stay out of the pureblood game, but our name is respected nonetheless.

"Fry? Good family. I'm Marcus Flint. Welcome to the Hogwarts Express"


"Thank you. Now, would you gentlemen mind if I hide out in here? I seemed to have made some enemies in my short time as a student here."

Marcus chuckled and adjusted himself on his bench, "Why don't you take a seat next to me, love. I'll protect you."

Had I not heard the thundering footsteps of who I assumed to be one very angry Weasley twin, I might have declined. And had said angry Weasley twin not started banging on the compartment door, I probably wouldn't have leapt into Marcus Flint's arms.

"Oh Gemma, sweetheart, I would like a word with you." Fred chimed from outside the compartment. I sunk further into my seat, feeling Flint's arm tighten around my waist. Which would have been a little creepy if he wasn't 1. protecting my life and 2. just a little bit handsome.

One of the other boys in the compartment answered the door, blocking the view of the compartment with his body.

"What do you want, Weasley." The boy hissed like the name burnt his tongue.

"Well you see, my dear friend Gemma left my compartment in a tizzy, and well, I'd just like to have a word with her...oh Gemma! Are you in there?" Fred stood on his tiptoes, attempting to see over the burly Slytherin's shoulders.

"It's just the three of us here, but good luck." The boy said sarcastically, slamming the door in Fred's face. I couldn't contain a rather girly giggle.

Flint smiled, "so darling, tell me about yourself."


"So we meet again, sweetheart," I felt someone take a seat next to me at the Gryffindor table, "Don't worry, it's me, George. Fred is coming though," thunk, I felt someone sit on my other side, "ah there he is!"

"Long time, no see, little brat. Now I've decided to forgive you temporarily, seeing as you're just the firey, violent, impulsive kind of person I admire. So until further notice,"

"We've chosen to take you under our wings!" The twins finished in unison. A freaky practice I'd come to secretly admire. I looked to George, who just shrugged and grinned at me, stuffing a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

So I'd like to say the only reason Fred hates me is because I threw every single pair of his pants, with the exception of the pair he was wearing, out the window of a moving train, but that just a drop in the cauldron.

There was the time I laced his beater's bat with fluid of Erumpent Horns, one swing and BOOM! Knocked him clean off his broom...get it? Clean off his broom? because brooms sweep...never mind.

Oh! And that time I spiked his shrinking potion to only shrink a *particular* part of his anatomy. Never have I seen a Weasley twin care *so much* about a failing grade...

And the time I bewitched his broom to only fly in reverse. That was so prime. Wood made him run laps for the rest of practice because "You're not taking the game seriously! Is this a joke to you Weasley?! IS QUIDDITCH SOME SORT OF GAME TO YOU?"

And of course the muggle classics, blue dye tabs in the showerhead, hand in warm water when sleeping, perpetual freezing charm on the knickers...ok maybe that one was loosely adapted from a muggle prank, and resulted in Fred informing me of how "free" he felt since he gave up wearing knickers…

All pranks aside, I'm still not sure why Fred hates me so much. George embraced being dyed blue...he never seemed to mind my pranks, and truthfully, I'd like to think there's a certain level of respect from Fred for how amazing I am at humiliating him.

So really, I don't know what it is. But I'm beating a dead hippogriff now, aren't I? Alright, alright, I'll get on with the story.

Nearly 5 years after Fred Weasley lost his trousers, I sat on my trunk, on the side of the road, closely examining a particularly rusty hammer.

I was, of course, holding a portkey. A portkey that wouldn't activate for another 18 minutes. My sister severely underestimated my ability to find a bloody hammer on the side of a bloody road, so she dropped me off 20 minutes early. It took a whopping 2 minutes to find the damn thing.

I was closely examining a deep crack in the handle when I felt Hermes, my elf owl, perch himself on my ponytail and nip at my hair.

"Do you want to meet me there you little shit?" I didn't need to tell him twice, half a second and he was gone. If I was only so lucky.

I look forward to that moment every July. I spend June with my mum in Greece, and July with my favorite ginger family, on the condition that I bring them the tackiest souvenirs and plenty of honey and olive oil. That's also the moment I get a little sick. Call me stupid, but every summer, I had this mad idea that maybe, just maybe, I'd arrive at the Burrow and Fred would greet me with a hug and a smile, and the rest of our relationshit would have just been a running prank. Alas, I probably shouldn't hold my breath.

I checked my watch. Damn. 17 more minutes.

You know what's worse than traveling by portkey? Being awoken violently from a rather nice, albeit accidental, nap by a portkey dragging you through some witchy space-time continuum and spitting you onto a paved road. Believe it or not, that really sucks.

My trunk landed with a thud next to me, its contents exploding everywhere. Hermes floated down and landed on my chest, cooing and snuggling his head into the crook of my neck.

"I see you had a good trip." I sputter as my owl hops up onto my face, seemingly enjoying my temporary immobility. In that moment, I was wildly happy my owl was the size of teacup, since he constantly insisted on scurrying over my face, head and neck as he saw fit.

"Oh Gemma dear, are you alright?!" Footsteps rushed in my direction.

Mrs. Weasley was possibly the most wonderful woman I've ever encountered. And the only woman to have any control over the twins, something Merlin himself couldn't claim.

"Yeah Mrs. Weasley, just a bit of a tumble." I slowly sat up, cringing as the pain from my fall really set in.

"Oh dear, let me help you." Mrs. Weasley flicked her wand and the contents of my life reorganized themselves into my trunk. One of these days, I'm going to learn that spell, I swear.

"GEMMA WHAT DID YOU BRING ME!" I heard a familiar voice shout. There was my Georgie, sprinting across the lawn, arms wide, flapping like a crazy owl that'd lost its balance. My lips spread into one of those painfully happy smiles, the kind you truly believe may get stuck on your face forever. Seeing George made me temporarily forget the pain I was in, and before I knew it, I was on my feet, sprinting full speed towards him.

"Georgie I missed you so...MUCH!" I shouted, leaping into his outstretched arms and clinging onto him like a koala. "Carry me!"

"Merlin you've gotten fat! I can barely hold you up!"

"GEORGE WEASLEY! Never call a woman fat!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, "I thought I raised you better than that! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"It's ok Mrs. Weasley," I laughed, "He doesn't mean it, and if he does, I'll get him back for it." Mrs. Weasley shook her head and walked away, grumbling things about manners and "no wonder he's single." I looked to Georged and burst into laughter.

"You know, she's got you on that one."

"Miss Fry, you of all people should know I do very well in the love department! Why, just last term, you should have seen the leggy Slytherin girl...Amy? Amanda...yes Amanda..."

"George I don't think that's what your mother had in mind-"

"Amanda was a sweet girl, said she liked bad boys. Had the most gorgeous platinum hair. Kind of like yours, but you know, pretty. And her tits..."

"Yeah yeah yeah ok, I get it. I have no tits. Very original." George snapped out of his little fantasy and glanced down at my chest.

"I don't know, Gemma, they seem to be coming along nicely," I glared at him from my koala bear hold on his neck and torso, "ok so they're the same as they've always been. At least all the laps Wood makes you run gives you nice legs! No? No smile for Georgie?"

"Just go get my trunk."

"Right then. Let's go little monkey"

Several minutes later, George dragged me and my trunk into the burrow, where I finally untangled myself from his torso and straightened out clothes. The Weasley kitchen was easily one of my most favorite places to be. There was always food cooking (my number one priority in life), and people were always coming and going. A far stretch from my usually-vacant home, the change was nice. There was always tea to be had and stories to be shared. And Weasley twins to be scolded, my number two priority in life.

"Gemma dear, good to see you." Mr. Weasley firmly shook my hand.

"It's great to see you too, Mr. Weasley! I have gifts for you, I just have to dig them out of my trunk."

"You're too kind, m'girl."

"Gemma!" A tiny voice called from the stairs. Maybe I'm full of myself, but I think Ginny liked when I came to visit. In a house full of boys, any extra estrogen has got to be appreciated.

"Ginny! Merlin you're so tall!" I dashed over to the stairs, to hug her.

"Bill just got out of the shower. I'd say you have a good 5 minutes before he'll be out of his room." She whispered in my ear.

"And this is why you are my favorite," I whispered back, "excuse me for a minute, guys, I'm just going to make sure I didn't knock anything loose in the fall." George rolled his eyes at me, knowing exactly what I was doing. I winked at Ginny and dashed up the stairs, intending to shut myself in the bathroom to slap on some, "I'm naturally this gorgeous and effortless" makeup.

As I pranced-and yes, I do mean pranced-down the hallway, the gods bestowed upon me the most glorious of gifts. Out of his bedroom walked a still damp Bill, arms stretched overhead, towel slung low on his hips. Before I could stare and drool like an idiot for too long, Bill smiled at me (annnnd I died. Story over...just kidding).

"Hey Gems, didn't hear you roll in," Bill said casually, leaning up against the wall. "How was Greece?"

"Oh you know, beautiful, covered in ruins, danger in every step you take, the usual. You'd love it." How I managed to keep it together is beyond me; internally, I was screaming.

"You know," he ran a hand through his damp hair, "I like working in Egypt, but I'd love to get to Greece. Oh hey Fred." Of course he would show up now.

"Fry...I thought I heard your shrill voice." I winced. Busted. Slowly, I tore my eyes away from the Adonis that was Bill Weasley and turned around to see the stupid smirking face of Fred Weasley.

"I'm going to change, but I want to hear all about Greece in a few, Gemma." Click. Bill's door closed behind him, leaving me alone in the hallway with my favorite Weasley.

"Jesus, Fry, I could see your boner from the opposite end of a Quidditch pitch."

"Oh Freddy," I said in the most saccharine voice I could muster, "you just wish I was lusting after you, though you have grown up a bit this summer," I trailed my hand down his torso. I felt his breath catch, if only for a moment, "maybe you're not so bad after all."

Fred took a step closer to me. Clearly, it was on.

"You know, Gemma," Fred responded, brushing a hand through my hair, "you are quite beautiful," another step closer, "maybe we could put our differences aside," we were torso to torso, "if only..." he sighed, "...if only you had tits..."

"UGH I HATE YOU." I screamed, shoving him as hard as I could.

"Oh,fiesty!" he drawled, "There's the Gemma I know and loathe! Tell me, how do I look from the bench? Or do we play so high off the ground, the wittle alternate can't see what's happening?" Now, I like to think I'd become more patient and tolerant of Fred's badgering, but Quidditch was a particularly raw subject for me. And Fred knew this. What he didn't know was I was about to rip the smug little grin of his stupid bloody face.

"I'M AN ALTERNATE!" I lunged at him, grabbing onto him the same way I'd latched onto George, "THE ONLY REASON I DON'T PLAY IS BECAUSE THE POSITION IS TAKEN BY THE CAPTAIN, WHO, BY THE WAY, IS TRAINING ME TO TAKE HIS BLOODY PLACE NEXT YEAR!" Fred stumbled backwards, not expecting my assault.

"What the bloody hell is happening out here?!" A now fully-clothed Bill chuckled from his doorway.

"I WILL KILL YOU THERE ARE TWO OF YOU AND NO ONE WILL MISS YOU!" At this point, Fred and I were in a full grappling match.

"Bill save me from this banshee!"

While trying to free a handful of my hair from Fred's fist, I felt a pair of strong hands wrap around my waist and pull me off the ground.

"HEY LET ME GO!" Bill slung me under one arm and started to carry me down the stairs.

"Merlin, when are you two going to get married already?"

"Bill, I have a better chance of marrying Ginny than Fred." Bill chuckled, still toting me along.

"You know, I'm truly starting to believe you two just hate each other."

"Wow, what on earth gave you that idea?"

"William Weasley! Is that any way to treat a house guest?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as Bill carried me into the kitchen.

"You know, it's extremely strange to hear mum yell at someone other than us, aye Georgie?" Fred quipped from behind us.

"Truly, Freddy, truly." George responded from the table, offering his cup of tea for emphasis.

As much as I would have loved to spend forever in Bill's arms, I was rather thankful to be set on my own two feet again. In my constant attempt to destroy Fred, it's always good to keep reminders of my tininess to a minimum.

"Alright, all of you, I'm trying to cook, shoo, shoo!" Mrs. Weasley stepped back from whatever heavenly creation she was working on to wave us all out of the kitchen. George pushed back from the table, linking arms with Fred and bowing before exiting the room. Arthur simply chuckled and returned to his daily profit, Bill shook his head and (sadly), left my side to walk out the back door, leaving Ginny and I, side by side, leaving the kitchen last.

"You two looked rather cozy." The twelve-year-old grinned at me. Sometimes I forget our age gap...maybe it's because I have the sensibilities of the average first year.

"Ginny, it was a beautiful site. He was shirtless, in a towel, all stretched out like," I attempted to mimic Bill's pose while walking up the stairs, "and he spoke...Ginny that voice! Just makes me want to,"

"Alright, enough. Ew. That is my brother you're talking about, you know!"

"Er...right, sorry...but Gin...he's just so delicious, the things I would do..." Ginny winced.

"Oy I'm twelve! And his sister!"

"Right, sorry...I'm not sorry." Ginny rolled her eyes at me and opened her bedroom door. George had so kindly thrown my trunk on the spare bed, its contents once again cascading onto the floor.

"Thanks for always allowing me to invade your room, Gin. Hey! I got you a present in Greece." I began rummaging through the contents of my trunk.

"I swear, Gem, if you got me another Parthenon clock..."

My hands tightened around a small parcel wrapped in blue paper, "nah, this is better, believe it or not!" I handed Ginny her present, watching her a little too closely while she opened it.

Out of the box, she pulled a blue and silver bracelet, "it's beautiful! ...What is it?"

"It's the evil eye. It's supposed to protect you from the curses of those who wish to do you any harm, especially those who hide their ill-intentions. Thought you could use the help after last year." Ginny rolled her eyes at me.

"It's lovely, thank you."

I was helping Ginny fasten her new bracelet, thrilled it went over better than the Parthenon clock (come on! It's so damn tacky and wonderful!), when the twins burst into the room.

"What did you bring us Gemmy?" They chimed in unison. Creepy, really, how they do that.

"Have you two EVER knocked in your life?" Ginny shouted.

"...No." Again with the unison thing.

George strolled over to my trunk and began rifling through its contents, pausing only once to hold up a pair of my knickers with an image of the three Quidditch hoops on the front, exclaiming how Wood must simply adore them. Fred snickered. Stupid gits.

"AHA! 'To: Georgie, I hate you. Love, Gems.'" George held his parcel into the air like Harry Potter with a snitch, "Oh, here, Fred." George passed another parcel to Fred.

"'To: Fred, I only get you things because everyone else gets them. Hate you, Gemma.' Oh love, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me-"

"Gemma, what the bloody hell is this?" George had torn the paper off his gift, revealing a glass box with four compartments, each holding different dried herbs. He began to lift one of the corners, which I snapped quickly shut.

"George, I'm not going to tell you what those are, or where I got them-"

"You got them in Greece-"

"-OR WHERE I GOT THEM, I'm just going to tell you they are not legal to own here and are only fatal in high doses. Be careful with them. They were a bitch to smuggle through customs, and if they get knicked by Filch, it will be your head."

George grinned, "thanks Gemma. I swear I will probably not use them on you."

"Yeah you better not-"

"Hey what the hell?!" George and I whipped our heads over to see Fred had unwrapped his gift, a rather raunchy-though historically accurate-set of coasters featuring the greatest and most vulgar sex scenes of the ancient world.

"What ever is it, my dear Freddy?" I chimed innocently, "I thought you liked Greek mythology?"

"Is that a swan?" George asked, choking down a laugh.

"That's Zeus! and Leda! Merlin you two know nothing!" Poor Ginny was halfway between laughing and burning bright red. Perhaps the Greek erotica coasters weren't exactly suitable for a twelve-year-old to see.

"What's happening in here? Oh hey Gemma! I forgot you were coming today." Oh Ron, the baby Weasley. Sure...Ginny was younger, but definetely more mature. Ron was just...so precious. Soooo easy to mess with...

"Ronnie!" I squealed in my most shrill, girly voice, "I've missed you so much!" I enveloped Ron in a tight hug before he could stop me, kissing him on the cheek and popping one foot in the air, adding to my ditziness. Ron's ears flushed bright red as he tried to sputter out a response.

See? This is why I love Ron. Or all 13 year old boys...not in a creepy way...They fail to notice my extreme lack of tits because I am older, therefore instantly hotter. In a world of tall, leggy brunettes like Alicia Spinnet, us short, boobless blondes gotta take it where we can get it.

Ron finally began breathing again when I let go, grabbing the massive collection of sweets I'd picked for him and handing it off. He sputtered a small "thank you" before leaving the room.

Fred and George immediately burst into laughter.

"See Gems? Bill may not like you, but ickle Ronnikins sure seems to!" Fred sniggered at me.

"You're just jealous George is the better looking twin." I spat back.

"Is not!"

"Oh I am too!" George countered. The two continued to argue, pointing out each other's flaws in Ginny's mirror. I gestured to Ginny to grab the remainder of gifts I had for the family before we snuck out of the room.

"I get the whole 'ancient Greek sex' thing...but why on earth would you get him coasters?" Ginny snickered.

"Because," I started, "coasters are like...the least sexual thing ever. Nothing kills a mood like 'hey baby, would you put a coaster under your drink, yeah, you know that's how I like it."

"You're not right in the head, you know that."

I thought about it for a moment, "You know Gin, you're probably right."


A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think, I'm still new to the whole fanfiction game, so tips/tricks/pointers/constructive criticism is welcome!