Title: Someone did a Bad, Bad Thing

Pairings: George/OC, Remus/Tonks (mentioned only)

Rating: PG

Timeline: Companion to the chapter 51 of Brave New Hope

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me - my writing is not for profit.

Summary: Coveting one's baby sister's best friend is not good. Fred, however, doesn't seem to agree.

A/N: Happy Christmas, everyone! As promised, here is my Third Outtake to the Brave New... Series, this time featuring Fred and George. It's not a very big one but I hope you'll like it anyway.

He was an idiot. A big, big idiot, George Weasley thought as he silently apparated into Diagon Alley alongside with his twin brother.

Truth to be told, knowing he was an idiot really shouldn't have been something new to him. That was, after all, one of the names he was called the most, second only to his own legal name.

But that day he'd gone and really proven it… he was the emperor of all idiots, the monarch of Idiot-land. He just had to go and do something so monumentally stupid like kissing Isabelle Black.

He blamed it on the farewell. One moment he'd been there, hearing her confessing her fears and frustrations, the other he'd felt the most unstoppable urge to kiss her. The fact that she'd been just about to walk into a train headed to the newly danger-filled Hogwarts certainly hadn't helped urging him to stop. On the back of his mind he had wondered if that would be his last chance. And so it had happened.

Just the thought of it made him want to groan. Not that it hadn't been a particularly enjoyable experience, he quickly added in his mind as he silently followed a suspiciously silent Fred into their shop, which, later he'd notice, just had little more than half a dozen costumers in it, most of them just browsing through. He'd be full of crap if he didn't admit, even to himself, that he'd been wondering for a long time – much longer than he liked to admit – how kissing Izzy would feel like. And, Merlin, hadn't the action itself felt so much better than he'd ever imagined.

But it couldn't happen. It just couldn't, he insisted for a myriad of reasons ranging from her being his baby sister's best friend (not to mention even younger than her) to them being friends. Great friends, he added, as lately he'd seen himself connecting with her through their little talks in a way he'd only ever connected with Fred who, to be honest, was practically a part of himself. To put it simple, Isabelle Black had grown to become the kind of friend one wouldn't want to ever give up or risk for the sake of… a little infatuation. Because it was all it could be, he stubbornly told himself. An infatuation.

Of course, convincing himself of that was so much easier said than done, he quickly concluded as he crossed the shop towards the counter where their perky cashier, Verity, appeared to be gift-wrapping something for a client. Verity whom, several months before, he'd gone on two dates with before concluding there was something missing from her. Something that, although he couldn't tell what it was, he couldn't really see himself dating her without. Something he knew Izzy had. Just thinking of that made him want to curse himself – why the hell couldn't he keep his own thoughts under control?

"Alright, Georgie, I think it's time you spill it," he heard Fred announcing very much out of the blue just as George saw himself alone with his brother in the shop's stock room – how he'd gotten in it without noticing, though, was beyond him.

"Spill what?" George replied dismissively.

"Everything. You look like something's just eaten your puppy, which shouldn't be the case since I went through great lengths of trouble to get you alone with your girl," he pointed out.

"I don't know what you're talking about – I don't have any 'girl'," George was quick to point out as he hung his cloak behind the door.

Fred frowned, following his twin as he tried to escape his inquiry by making his way back to behind the counter, quickly dismissing Verity so she could take her lunch break. "Okay, so you want to play it that way?" Fred asked. "How should I put it, then? 'The girl you refuse to admit you want to be your girl'? 'The girl you've been making googly eyes at'? No, none of that – this one's the winner: 'The girl you really want to kissy kiss'!" He made kiss sounds just for the sake of illustrating his point.

George glared "It's not beyond me to curse you, you know? It really, really wouldn't make me feel bad if I did."

Fred rolled his eyes for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Look, is this all about you being worried about her and Ginny?" he asked. "Because they're going to be fine. They're probably among the toughest kids that school has ever seen. Plus, they have the whole DA on their side – Snape and the Carrows don't stand a chance."

His brother's pacifying words eased his annoyance at him for a pest, even if he was being so blatantly overly positive. "Knowing they're tough isn't really an issue, Fred," he found himself saying even though he still had his fears concerning their well-being. It was stupid, really, because he knew that if he was the one at Hogwarts, he wouldn't really give a crap about safety as opposed to wreaking havoc.

"We'll that's a relief to hear because, as I was saying, I went through a lot of trouble to get you alone with Izzy Black. Ginny actually punched me, you know?" he stated, pointing at his arm. "She wasn't all that happy when I handed her over to Mum on a platter so she could fuss. I think I might get a bruise."

"Aw, poor you," George mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Milk that one well and you may have Angie playing nurse for you tonight."

Fred grinned. "Oh, you bet I'll give that a try. She does make a really interesting nurse," he mumbled, before clearing his throat and going back to the point. "But, anyway, getting punched for you more than entitles me to know what went on when I left you two lovebirds alone. You know I keep no secrets from you about Angelina and I – least you could do was repaying me in the same fashion."

"Alright, first of all, sometimes I do wish you'd keep secrets from me about what happens between you and Angelina behind closed doors, especially when said doors lead to a bedroom or really anywhere with a flat surface in it. Second of all, Isabelle and I are not 'lovebirds'."

His twin made a dismissive gesture. "Eggs… omelette. It's all just a matter of time and semantics. So, go ahead, Georgie, spill it."

"There is nothing…" He was interrupted by a female client approaching the counter, ready to pay for a few things she'd just picked out from the Wonder Witch section.

It was almost a relief when the girl turned out to be a talkative one, keeping Fred busy talking while he took care of packing the stuff she was buying. Maybe that would get Fred to let go of the matter, although, knowing him well, George didn't keep his hopes up.

"Thank you, come again. New products are coming out next week," Fred told the girl as she walked away, promptly turning back to his twin just as they were left alone again. "So, you were saying…"

"Can't you let this go just this once?" George asked.

"Phew. You know me better than that – it's for your own good, not just my entertainment, trust me. Now, come on, you're not a killjoy – why do you have to be one about this matter in specific? Because, really, that's not helping you convincing me you don't feel anything for Izzy Black, so, go on. What happened at the station?"

"Nothing happened," George lied.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Come on, George. You know you can't lie to me. We can't lie to each other – we may be convincing to everyone else but among ourselves… forget it. Something happened that made you act all weird. Don't think I didn't see your face when you came out of your little hiding place, not to mention Izzy's. She looked positively dumbfounded. What did you tell her? You're just going to lose your marbles if you keep it in."

"I didn't…" George started before hesitating. So, Fred was sort of right – there was no use lying to him because he'd know. They always knew. And he figured that, well, Fred might be a pest when he was proven right but he knew he could trust him to keep a secret – well, at least what mattered the most in a secret. It wasn't like keeping what had happened to himself was helping him in any way. "It wasn't about what I said – it was about what I did."

His brother's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. "Hello… I'm starting to like this. Did you do what I think you…?"

"Yeah, I kissed her, now shut up. It was a really stupid thing to do," George said as he started counting money just for the sake of looking busy.

"Stupid thing? Mate, you like her, she was going away for a long time, so you kissed her. What's stupid about it?"

George started to speak but ended up pausing… truth to be told, he was finding it hard to justify said stupidity at the moment although he knew he'd had a pile of reasons for it just minutes before. His own mind was betraying him. "I… she didn't ask for it," he said lamely.

"So? What were you expecting? A bloody written invitation?"

"No, it's just…" He paused. "I actually told her before I… you know, kissed her, that I was going to do something stupid."

Fred stared at him oddly for a few seconds. "Well, that was stupid. What did she say, then? Before or afterwards…"

"Hard to say… Sirius kind of interrupted us," he mumbled.

His brother stared some more. "And you're still breathing how?"

"He didn't actually see us. He just… called out for her and scared the living hell out of both of us. Anyway, afterwards we didn't really talk. Not much, anyway, since it was all so unbelievably awkward… I messed up, Fred. I really messed it up by kissing her."

"Because it was awkward? Oh, for Merlin's sakes, get over it! I might think this was the first girl you'd ever kissed if I didn't know how far you'd gone with Alicia Spinnet in our sixth year – talk about channelling energy elsewhere when Quidditch wasn't an option."

"Oh, shut it, Fred. Like you and Angie weren't going at it all over the place too," George mumbled.

Fred grinned. "Oh, yes. That Triwizard Tournament gave us some year…" He cleared his throat. "But, anyway, I don't get why you're so bothered about having kissed Izzy Black. Was it really such a horrifying experience?"

"Of course it wasn't horrif… look, that's not the point! The point is that she's my friend. That's all she is. Period."

"Hum, hum, get back to me when you're done convincing yourself."

"Damn it, Fred! Stop being patronizing."

"I'm not being patronizing – I know you. I see how you look at this girl. You like her and not as just a friend. She's not mad, she's not evil, she's not related to us in any way that would make you liking her in a romantic way disgusting – I don't see why you're torturing yourself."

"I am not torturing myself," he whispered furiously, trying not to alert any of the few costumers in the shop to the discussion taking place.

"Oh, really? Then name a legitimate reason as to why you shouldn't make a move on Izzy Black," Fred dared him.

"One? Oh, I'll give you more than that: first, she's Ginny's best friend, so it would be weird; second, her dad is one of my idols, by whom I'd very much not like to be murdered."

"Phew, Sirius wouldn't kill you. He respects a fellow prankster far too much to do that. At the worst, he might cripple you."

"Oh, great, what the hell was I worrying about? Maybe I'll just come out of this crippled!" George said sarcastically. "I guess since this is such a non-reason, I should give you some more. Here it goes: she's four years younger than us."

"What? No, she's not," Fred said, frowning. "Wasn't she born in the same year as Ginny in, like, November?"

"December," George corrected.

"Whatever. That makes her just… what? Three and a half years younger than us?"

"Three years and nine months. Round it up and you'll have four years," he concluded.

"Big mistake, Georgie. Big mistake. You don't round up a girl's age. They'll kill you if you do that," Fred informed him.

"I'm not rounding it up, I'm rounding it down by rounding up the age ga… oh, forget it. She's fifteen, which makes her even younger than Ginny – that's enough for an argument."

"That's stupid. She'll be sixteen in like three months! Plus, she got into Hogwarts one year earlier than most people – that has to give her some extra months at the very least."

"It doesn't work that way! Just shut up!"

"You shut up," Fred countered.

Before any of them could add anything, they heard the sound of a throat being cleared nearby. When they turned to see who it was, they found Tonks standing on the other side of the counter.

"Why, what seems to be the situation, gentlemen? Should I start thinking of intervening?" she asked, shooting them a mock-authoritarian look. Her hair was its usual bubble-gum pink, contrasting heavily with her dark blue robes, worn loose that day likely to hide any sign of her pregnancy from unwanted eyes, which was bound to become obvious soon to anyone acquainted with her usually skinny-as-a-stick-figure frame.

"Ah, Tonks, Tonks, Tonks. Just the person I needed to prove my point," Fred said, slowly turning to face his brother with a cocky grin on his face.

"Fred do not…"

"Mate, I'm just going to ask her a question," Fred told him in all seriousness, giving him a look that clearly urged him to trust him. "Not even an obvious one…"

George narrowed his eyes warningly but didn't say a word. He supposed he'd have to trust Fred not to spill his secrets all over the place… he could always smother him in his sleep afterwards if he didn't. "Fine."

"Well, doesn't this sound interesting?" Tonks observed with a smirk. "And what question would that be?"

"Would you say there was anything wrong with a bloke our age falling for a girl a handful of years younger?" Fred asked.

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "You do know I'm currently married to a bloke more than a decade older than me, so I may be biased, right?"

"That's exactly why I'm asking you," Fred stated. "We need someone with experience on the matter."

"Alright… so, this age gap… how much of a handful is this 'handful of years'?"

Fred didn't respond. Instead, he turned to George, urging him to do it himself since it was his issue.

George cleared his throat. "More than two… less than five," he offered.

"Definitely less than five," Fred added, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up!"

Tonks snorted at their antics for a moment before clearing her throat. "And are there… real feelings involved in this equation?"

George was deadly silent for a moment and, when he spoke, how rather wished he'd stayed silent a whole lot longer. "Er… it's comp… I don't think it…"

"Yes, there are definitely real feelings involved," Fred answered in his brother's stead.

"Fred I am going to kill…"

"Wow, shameless death threats in front of an auror," Tonks observed in disgust, shaking her head at the two. "Nice, guys. Real nice. Couldn't think of a better way to remind me of the fact that the career I've spent years training for has been turned into a joke ever since those Snatchers came into play. So, really, don't mind me. It's not like I have the authority to arrest you anymore unless you actually kill each other. Us aurors are nothing more than pencil-pusher these days, after all."

Fred and George stopped with the bickering, instead looking at her rather apologetically. "Merlin, Tonks, you already sound just like a mum," Fred pointed out.

George nodded, "The guilt trip trick is spot on."

She couldn't help smiling a little. "You think?" she asked in a rather pleased tone.

"Definitely. Mum would approve," Fred assured her without a doubt. "But, well, threats and guilt trips aside, what's your verdict on this whole matter?"

"Oh, right. Well, I'm not going to tell any of you what to do. I won't. But if it were me in George's shoes, I'd go for it," she declared, nodding at George, who gave her a look of utter disbelief.

"We never told you this was about me," George said.

"Yeah, well, you didn't make a good job out of hiding it either. Besides, Fred has a girlfriend he's bonkers about. If he wanted to go ahead and date a younger girl, he sure wouldn't be telling me," Tonks pointed out.

"We could be asking for a friend."

She actually laughed at that one. "Yeah, right. Since when do blokes ask someone else for advice meant to other friends?"

"Alright, as a fellow bloke, I have to say that is awfully unfair, Tonks," Fred stated with a frown. "We can be…" He snapped his fingers as he searched for the word in his mind.

"Sensitive?" George asked.

"Exactly. We can be sensitive on occasion," the other twin finished.

"Hum, hum," she mumbled dismissively. "Well, sensitive or not, you've asked for my opinion, I gave it to you. There isn't a time when age becomes more of a number than it does during a war. People don't have a chance other than growing way beyond their years in a blink of an eye and next thing you know, it may all be gone."

"It's… it's more complicated than just an age gap," George mumbled stubbornly.

Tonks gave him a look. "More complicated than falling for a werewolf with inferiority complexes who insisted on barking at me that he was too old, too poor, too dangerous and too whatever-the-hell-he-came-up-with every time I as much as gave him a look?" she asked sceptically. "Listen, I'm not going to say that none of your… other reasons are valid mostly because I don't even know them. I'm going to tell you this, though: it's one hell of a feeling when you get through 'complicated' and it all pays off in the end. Plus, keep one very important thing in mind: feelings always have the upper hand when you're trying to fight them. Always."

George couldn't bring himself respond, instead spending his energy into thinking. He couldn't say her words had caused him to figure the whole issue out – far from it, really. But they did give him a little hope, though, that at some point he'd be able to figure it out and maybe, just maybe, he'd end up enjoying that feeling that, according to Tonks, came with the ultimate pay off.

Of course, for that to happen he had to stop feeling like sort of a creep over having feelings for his baby sister's best friend. Which he still wasn't sure if was the best thing to do. After all, he didn't even have any idea as to whether or not those feelings were reciprocated. Part of him wished they weren't since it would cut the problem down by its roots…

"Well, Gentleman," Tonks stated. "I'd love to stay and give more advice since I'm apparently on a roll here but I did come by with a purpose. Something along the lines of meeting my dear, overworked husband…"

Fred cleared his throat and gave Tonks a serious look. "Now, just wait a minute before you go. This is a reputed establishment, Tonks. We need to know that when you go upstairs to…" he cleared his throat before making air quotes "…'meet' good old Remus you'll remember the rules we put into place. Wouldn't want you to do anything that'd break the business environment."

Tonks gave them a look. "I thought that was a joke."

"Of course it's a joke – this is a joke shop," Fred pointed out.

"Yeah. And in case you don't know, we do enforce jokes around here," George mumbled as he forced himself to snap out of the whole to-like-or-not-to-like-Izzy dilemma, if not for anything else, to conserve his own sanity.

"Gee, guys, I think you're being a little too hard on us," the metamorphagus argued. "I mean, ten minutes of canoodling for every hour I spend up there with him… I'm not sure if I'll find it in me to make him follow that."

"Ten minutes is the minimum," Fred pointed out. "We really do advise at least fifteen. Of course, any unused canoodling time you accumulate can also be traded for an early leave, possibly an extended lunch," Fred added. "Breaking these rules once will lead to a warning."

"Three warnings lead to a penalty and your little husband already has two," George stated. "I don't think Remus wants to tackle that extra week of vacation looming on his penalty-shaped horizon."

The pink-haired woman grinned. "I don't know. If you leave that extra week for next year, I might just make sure he's a third-striker by the end of the day. Merlin knows I could probably use an extra week of him around when the little one comes."

Fred mock-glared at her. "Just for your impertinence, we'll make that two weeks," he informed her. "Though there may or may not be red-tape deliveries to your place during said weeks of vacation – we're not so cruel that we'd fully separate a bloke from his beloved paperwork."

She nodded with a fake serious expression all over her face. "Yes, that faint strike of compassion is the only reason why I don't tell Remus to quit from such a dreadful job. And I thought I had it bad during my year as a department slave… I mean, as a trainee at the auror office." She sighed. Stupidly enough, being a slave-like trainee still beat her – and the whole office's – position as permanent desk-jockey for those disgusting Snatchers.

"Business is business," George observed.

"So, do go on," Fred urged her. "Then let us know if we should get the gears running for penalty-enforcement or not."

"Try to sound a little surprised when I do," the pink-haired expecting mother pleaded as she slipped to behind the counter and disappeared into the door behind it.

Fred shook his head, clicking his tongue. "No sense of decorum these days, is there?" he mockingly commented before turning to George. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Please tell me hearing what I've been telling you from Tonks has put some sense into you. I mean, the woman would know – what's a little three-year gap compared to the thirteen years between her and Moony?"

"First of all, it's four years, not three. Second of all, I still have no plans to make anything remotely close to a 'move' on Isabelle, if that's what you're asking. "

Fred rolled his eyes. "You know you're going to cave, eventually. You heard Tonks – feelings always have the upper hand," he stated. "You may be stubborn as a mule but you always knew how to pick your own fights. Mark my words, George. I know you better than anyone in the world."

And, as his brother made an exit to the back room to take care of a few owl orders, it really did annoy George that Fred sounded so sure of himself. If there was one thing his brother was right about was that he knew him better than anyone. They knew each other better than anyone. In the end, that was what so often led them to be right about each other. It was what made them best friends.

Because, truth was, it didn't matter how much Fred bugged him; it didn't matter what sort of advice he got. If he was honest to himself, George would know he might come up with a thousand reasons why he shouldn't fall for Isabelle Black but they'd all have the same fate for the simple fact that his logic tended to betray him around her. Just like it had that morning when he'd kissed her.

Ultimately, he – or at least a part of him he very much wanted to repress along with Fred's predictions – knew the truth. Ultimately he knew he was fighting a losing battle with his feelings. And ultimately he was looking forward to lose.

A/N2: Feedback is welcome! Review!