That One Time I Fell In Love
(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

Chapter 4: That one time I was classy af.

Emma really was fucking beautiful.

Hey look, I can admit that. It's essentially the only thing that I'll ever admit about a woman, 'cause I'm shallow as fuck, let's be honest! I'm in it for how they look, if the amount of times I can't remember a name but DO remember their rockin' abs is any indicator. So Emma … yeah, she was hot. But like, not just hot, because she wasn't a conventional attraction by any means. She wasn't tall or skinny or had silken shiny hair or whatever the crap those potion ads on the radio ramble about, but I'll go for anything me and yeah, I liked the fact that she had some curves on her. I might not be able to see her ribs, but my arm curled around a soft waist that flared out into wide hips. She had thrown me down and ridden me like a fucking pro, and I'm telling you here that there was literally nothing more beautiful than that. She had a slender leg shoved in between mine and look, I know this is going to seem like cuddling, but it wasn't, ok? Noooo, cuddling implies intimacy!

There was totally nothing intimate about this.

"I still can't believe you managed to do that," she murmured into my neck.

"Do what?" I snorted. "I literally did nothing."

"Exactly!" She pulled back slightly so that she could laugh in my face. "You did nothin' and only tried to take over about, what, ten times?"

"Five times."

"Mate, I had to bite you."

"Maybe I liked it."

"What, so you fought me on purpose?" Emma scoffed. "All you had to do was ask."

I found myself grinning at that and I don't know why, so I pulled away so she wouldn't notice. Rolling over, however, I realised that we'd lost the second pillow to somewhere across the room, along with the tossed mess of our clothes. Damn it, I was going to have to get up soon just to pick it all up. I'd just opened my mouth to complain to Emma when suddenly, there was a banging at my front door.

"Uuuugh," I moaned, yanking the one pillow we did have out from under Emma's head. I ignored her yelp as her head hit the mattress and shoved the pillow into my face. "Whoever that is, they can go away!"

"You don't think it's important?" Emma grumbled slightly. She tucked her arm under her head in the absence of the pillow.

"The only thing THAT important is a call from work, and they would have Flooed me."

"Seriously, was is your job that is oh-so important?"

"Princess, please."

She whined slightly at my continuance of brushing off that particular question and I felt myself grinning again into the pillow, still grateful that she couldn't see. However, before I could muster up the energy to kick her out of my flat, we both heard a significant clang of something suddenly being moved in the kitchen. There was a shuffling of footsteps. Voices murmuring through the walls. I threw the pillow off my head and the both of us snapped upright, staring at my closed bedroom door.

"There's someone in my flat!" I said.

"Holy shit, do they think no one's home?" Emma asked.

"I don't know, but I find that I'm outraged!"

"What if they're tryna rob you or somethin'?"

"Then I'll give them a piece of my mind!" I growled, sitting up at once and searching immediately for my wand. However, Emma leapt out of bed and grabbed the nearest article of clothing (which happened to be my jumper) before heading straight for the door.

"Merlin – Emma! Emma, I'll handle this – oh, fucking lord …" Naturally, she didn't listen to a word I said, but disappeared out into the hallway. Before I could even get my boxers back on, I heard her screaming as she clearly thundered out into the lounge,

"HYYYYYYYAH!"

The girl is NUTS.

There was a bunch of yelling as Emma clearly tackled my would-be robber like some Muggle. I don't know what the hell goes through her head sometimes, but rational thought clearly wasn't it at the moment. "Bloody hell, Emma!" I yelled, hastily running after her. "I SAID, I'd handle it! You don't just go around tackling people – James!"

Fucking BOLLOCKS.

When I burst into the lounge, it was to indeed find my best friend standing there in utter confusion, having just been attacked by a very good friend of his. And because life just couldn't get grander, Libby also quickly appeared from the kitchen, looking just as equally bewildered at the appearance of her friend. I think Emma suddenly realised the gravity of this situation, since she looked rather like she feared for her life in that moment. She tried to comb her hair back with her hands, but there was literally no talking our way out of this moment.

So I said,

"Ah … shit."

My explanation of the situation was going bloody spectacularly.

"YOU SLEPT WITH FRED?" Libby screeched.

"Well, I – I dinnit MEAN to!" Emma cried.

Thanks, girl.

James was still gaping at me in horror, so I don't think he'd quite grasped the scenario yet. Sure enough, it took him several moments of spluttering before he started yelling too and, grabbing me by the arm, literally threw me into my own kitchen to demand an explanation. I mean, come on, it had to be fairly obvious what was going on, but apparently he wanted to know all the details. I didn't know what the hell to tell him, mainly because I barely knew what was going on myself and mate, I'd gone from post-sex-not-cuddling, to manic best friend screeching like a pterodactyl in less than five minutes! I couldn't even look him in the eye as I somehow explained how we'd met on Halloween basically because of him.

"Oh, bloody Merlin," James said, looking like his world was currently imploding. "That was supposed to be in revenge for her dressing as a mummy when I clearly have an irrational phobia of them! It wasn't an invitation for you to SHAG her!"

"Well – I mean – it isn't exactly against the rules, is it?" I asked, weakly. "I mean, she's not an ex or related to you, essentially, she's fair game–"

"Fred, she's one of my BEST FRIENDS!"

"Didn't you meet her in like, September?"

"NOT THE POINT!" James cried in earnest.

"Jesus Christ, I think you're about to burst a blood vessel–"

"I wouldn't be surprised!" he spluttered. "Fred, it's just a RULE, you don't screw around with people close to your mates! Or if it's not a rule, it bloody well SHOULD be! Emma's been through a lot recently, I don't want you waltzing in with your ridiculous stories of conquests to just bed her and run off! She's supposed to be able to trust me, and how can she if my best mate screws her around like that?!"

There were a few things I wanted to address within that statement – what the hell does he mean by 'been through a lot'? – you want to talk to me about trust? I had to give up control for that woman! – but it seemed that the accusations against myself were the strongest thing to fight back over.

"Piss the hell off, it's not like it's your life!" I ended up countering. "Look, I accepted ages ago that we're different now, but just because I still sleep around doesn't mean that you get to suddenly preach your morals at me!"

"I'm not preaching–"

"Really? Kinda sounds like it!" I accused.

"Look," James sighed then, rubbing his forehead warily as he apparently tried to get his head around this. "I don't want this to turn into another insane fight. I actually originally came over here with good news! I just … I can pretend this never happened, if you can?"

Thank the fucking lord. "Sounds perfect to me!" I told him, reaching out and shaking his hand. This was starting to get surreal, and I wanted nothing more than to forget the embarrassment of this entire thing! This wasn't something I'd ever intended on anyone finding out about and the fact that James and Libby now both knew was the weirdest and most exposing thing I think had ever happened in my life, which is saying something considering I'm still standing here in my underwear. Maybe if we could forget about this, then I could go back to just having great sex whenever I felt like it, and James could continue to pretend that I wasn't shagging one of his good friends. See? Perfect!

But of course, that's when Emma had to open her big mouth.

James had opened the kitchen door for us to move back out, but it was just in time to hear her exclaim, "Oh, hey! There's my bra! I swear, I've been looking for that for about two weeks now …" The ha, ha in her voice was implied, like she was clearly trying to joke her way around this. I think I remembered the bra she was talking about, the one stuffed down the side of my sofa, because she'd accidentally left it there once and I hadn't quite known what to do with it. Rather unfortunately, though, this statement of hers resulted in James quite suddenly shutting the kitchen door once more with a BANG.

"Um …"

"THIS HAS HAPPENED MORE THAN ONCE?" James cried.

"Uh …"

"OH MY GOD!"

I mean, yeah, I could totally explain this!

For the record, I could not totally explain this.

Although it wasn't for the lack of trying, trust me. James freaked out over the fact that I had somehow found myself in this situation and I couldn't even make it better, 'cause I didn't even know how I'd gotten in it in the first place. I still couldn't even tell you if he was angry or not! Most of the time he just seemed shocked, but when he was reminded that it was his friend I was sleeping with, he seemed to get about as lethal as Aunt Hermione when she was on a political warpath.

"… this is … this is just WRONG!" he apparently concluded.

"Ok, this is officially getting out of hand. How the hell is this wrong?" I asked.

"Because!" James cried. "You and Emma? Look, trust me when I say that she is NOT your type!"

"Whoa, hey," I scowled at that. Who the hell was he to tell me what my type was? Fuck, I didn't even have a type! My type was anyone! I kept glaring at James as I said, "Yeah, I'll admit that she's a bit mouthy, but you've gotta admit, so are you, mate."

"Oh," James shook his head. "you did NOT just compare me to her!"

I think I cracked or something. I don't even know. I'd just had enough.

"James, think about it," I snapped at him, and he glanced up with reluctant attention. "We don't really … Emma and me, it's not exactly about the talking, but that close to someone, you kinda can't help but get to know them a little. And if she's anything like you, how can you be surprised that we're actually rather compatible?" Literally, why the fuck am I still justifying this? "Look, neither of us are looking for anything remotely serious. She mentioned some ex of hers that shook her up a bit, so it's not like she's about to fall madly in love any time soon, and we both know that I'm not going to! So why shouldn't we? What's really so bad about it?"

James didn't answer me for a long moment, scepticism still in his eyes. I think it showed how we both managed to still be friends that I didn't actually kill him. Eventually, he just kicked at the kitchen floor and told the shiny tiles,

"I just don't want you to hurt her."

I groaned, "Maaaate –"

"No, I'm goddamned serious!" James insisted. "Not only is Emma a really good friend of mine, she's one of Libby's closest mates. You hurt Emma, you hurt both of us, and trust me, you do NOT want to see Libby when she's being an avenging angel for her best friends! I trust you still remember the time Jo kneed you in the balls?"

FUCK, I wasn't going to forget that anytime soon. I blanched as my brain unfortunately remembered several months ago, when all I'd wanted was to apologise to my best friend for being such a fucktard, and of course, the only place to find him was at Libby's place. Turns out that one of her insane friends, Jo White, had just been dumped, which apparently justified her kneeing me until my balls were blue simply for accidentally startling her in the kitchen. See, this is why I don't do relationships! Everything hurts and nothing is ok!

James just smirked at the look on my face.

"Yeah," he said. "That'll happen again if you screw our Em around."

I took his word for it, although I think we all know that Emma was more than capable of killing me if she felt like it. I cracked jokes with James and agreed to his ridiculous terms not to hurt her as we eventually moved back into the lounge, but on the inside, I was starting to yell. FRED, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? Despite all my best efforts, I was in a relationship here, wasn't I? Not a traditional relationship like you're probably thinking about, with feelings and commitment and shit, but I had somehow formed some kind of interpersonal connection with someone I saw on a fairly regular basis. I knew Emma! Not very well, mind, but I knew her enough to know that she would curse me into a thousand fire ants if I ever did something she didn't like, and she wouldn't hesitate for a second. As we walked into the lounge I caught sight of her, talking with Libby on the sofa. Just for a moment there, I couldn't breathe.

Run. Just fucking run, mate.

But it might have looked rather weird if I ran out of my own flat, so unfortunately, I had to stick around. I tried to ignore the choking anxiety in my throat and instead, found myself listening to James and Libby.

"Aaaaand on that note," Libby was sitting up straight and grinning as thankfully, finally, someone in this flat changed the bloody topic. "Maybe now you two can actually react to the brilliant-ness that has been the last few days? I know James is practically dying for a celebratory screech!"

Oh, right, they didn't just break into my flat for The Evuls, they actually had a point in coming here! I totally forgot about that. It seemed that Emma already knew this reason, since she was quick to jump to her feet and say, "Of course – Congratulations, James!" My best friend just laughed as Emma hugged him tightly around the neck.

"Finally!" James said, gleefully. "Thank you, my homegirl!"

"What're you lot on about?" I asked, grumpily. "James, did you win a pub quiz or something?"

"Bloody hell, don't you EVER read the paper?" James broke away from Emma to throw his arms open wide and yelled at me, "I MADE THE TEAM!"

"Wait, you WHAT?"

"I made it, I'm seriously the new Beater for the Chelsea Cheetahs!"

"Holy shit, mate!" I yelled just as loudly, throwing myself forward. James hugged me with a laugh, even though I was still wearing next to nothing and about ten minutes ago, he'd wanted to rip my face off. The bastard did it! He'd been talking about getting back into the game for months now and he'd even gotten a trial at one point, but he'd bailed. When they announced the mid-season position for Beater opening up, I never thought James would ever actually go through with the trial, let alone get offered the position!

"I can't believe you did it!" I cried, pulling back and thumping James on the shoulder.

"Me either!" James yelled.

"So this means that you can get us into your first match, righ'?" Emma added, excitedly.

"Hey, I've got nothing to do with ticket distribution," James pointed a finger at her. "Try bribing Libby, she's the one who made a deal with one of your mates so that she could go."

"Aw, c'mon, I was a part of that deal, too! I swear, I entered that competition about five times under different names. I can't believe ya actually won, Lib –"

"Fate loves an underdog," Libby just threw us all a smirk.

"Whoa, wait, you've got tickets?" I said. "I looked that match up, they don't go on sale till Wednesday!"

"I won a competition," Libby laughed. "Me and my mate Sarah from work are gonna go together, although James tried to convince me that I should've given the second ticket to him. Guess I don't need to anymore!"

"Aw, but what about me?" I needled her.

"You, my friend, are gonna have to camp out in front of the ticket distribution office, just like everyone else," Libby pointed out.

"James," I complained.

"Hey, don't look at me," James shrugged. "I'm the one who has to survive the match."

"You'll do brilliant – damn, my best friend is gonna be a fucking QUIDDITCH STAR! Shit like this doesn't happen in real life."

"Yeah, we're celebrating tonight, no doubt!" James grinned. "Dinner at our place, then we'll probably go out and get trashed or something."

"Even though we all did that last night," Libby pointed out.

"Yeeeep, I'm still feeling that," James winced slightly. "And sure, it might be Monday, but it's New Year's! C'mon, you guys both gotta come."

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes. "Course, I'm not gonna pass up an opportunity to get drunk with you, am I?"

"Well, I dunno …" James glanced sideways at Emma for a moment.

I ignored the insinuation as best I could, and thankfully I had managed to forget all about the crushing panic working its way into my brain for the last few minutes. Unfortunately, it came speeding back. But I sure as hell wasn't going to let that stop me from celebrating my best friend's victory, and Emma could just screw it for all I cared.

"I'll be there!" I insisted.

"So will I, of course!" Emma added, throwing her arm around James once more.

"Thanks, guys," James grinned. "Dinner's at seven, but feel free to turn up whenever, there's no pressure. See you later, yeah?"

It was all hugs and cheerful congratulations once more as James and Libby left my flat. However, as soon as the door shut behind them, Emma and I were left alone with the kind of awkward silence that leaves you wondering if it would really hurt that much to throw yourself out of a second storey window. Emma turned to look at me, still wearing my 'I'm a bad boy' jumper though thankfully, she'd thought to put pants on at some point. The bra that she'd found stuffed into my sofa cushions was currently sticking out of the pocket.

"Well, shit," she said with a nervous laugh.

"Shit, indeed," I said.

Another pause.

"Weeeeelp, this has been fun I s'pose," Emma said hastily, aiming back for my bedroom. "No, truly, it's been spectacular! Maybe I'll see you 'round –"

"What the hell are you going on about?" I followed her all the way back to my room, where she started gathering up her clothing from the various places scattered all over the floor.

"You're kiddin' me?" Emma turned to glance back at me. "Fred, I had to awkwardly explain to my best friend that I've been casually fucking you the last two months! There's really no graceful way to say that, so naturally, I've gotta go kill myself now."

"You think I'm not embarrassed?" I said. "James legit thought he'd been thrown into an alternate universe!"

"So it's settled then – been nice knowin' ya. BYEEEE!" Emma waved hastily, clothes a bundle in her arms. And I legit almost let her go. She rushed out of my room and I stood there for about all of 2.8 seconds, before swearing and running after her. I caught up just as she was about to open my front door and I yelled out,

"Goddamn it, Princess! Hold on!"

"What?" Emma asked warily, turning around.

I skidded to a halt in front of her. I didn't even know what I wanted to say. My brain was yelling at me, MATE, let her walk out of here. Let her walk and you never have to deal with this shit again. Seriously, I'd wanted to run, and here she was, all prepared to do just that! But I kept standing there like a gormless idiot, because I realised that I liked the thing. And I know I said it wasn't a thing, but it is, there's a thing between us and I liked it. I mean, I got incredibly satisfying sex out of it! Who wouldn't like that? Problem was, it was all fun and games when it was just a fleeting thought inside my head and a secret between us. Now … it was out. James knew, Libby knew, and now suddenly, the thought that I liked this so much went from something thrilling, to something vaguely terrifying.

Let her walk, Fred.

I should.

But I didn't.

"You're still wearing my jumper."

"Oh, you want it back?" Despite herself, the corner of Emma's mouth quirked.

"If it's not too much trouble."

Emma watched me a second before apparently making up her mind. She put down the bundle of her clothes and straightened, grabbing at the hem of the jumper. She slowly pulled it off, revealing inch by inch her smooth, naked skin. I swallowed, but she didn't even flinch at the look on my face, so I didn't back down either. She casually tossed the jumper at me.

"So you were saying?" she asked.

I yanked it off my head. "Kiss me, Princess."

So the routine stayed.

I KNOW. But I'd ceased trying to understand all this. The next two weeks passed and the routine stayed almost exactly the same. We owled when we felt like it, we fell into bed together. We didn't talk. We didn't think. While in the long run it probably would have solved a lot of dramatics further down the line if she had just walked out of my flat right then, I just wasn't quite ready to give this up yet. And Merlin help me, I don't think she was either. When she had finally gone home that morning, her clothes hastily tugged on with an untucked shirt and smelling of tea and sex, it had been with the weird knowledge that I'd be seeing her again literally later that evening. Therefore, I decided to pass on the dinner at James and Libby's place and instead just joined my bunch of family weirdoes out in town. We would celebrate James' success and count down to that oh-so-magical moment where time would move on and we would find ourselves in a whole new year! But apparently skipping dinner had resulted in me missing out on a lot.

"Do not come at me with anymore wine," Rose was apparently warning her friends when I'd arrived, currently surrounded by what looked like a harem of excited women. "You get any of that in me, I promise you that I WILL cry!"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" I'd blurted out in bewilderment.

"Fred!" Rose's eyes lit up when she'd noticed me, skipping forward to crush me in a hug. "Oh my god! I'm glad you're here! SCORPIUS PROPOSED! Happy New Year! Want a drink?"

"Whoa, go back a few sentences!" I'd shaken my head, pulling back a moment. "Scorpius proposed? What the fuck is wrong with him?"

Rose had just laughed in my face, showing me the new sparkly ring on her finger. "Thank you, we're excited too!"

I'd snorted at her, but let her hug me again because I was honestly happy for her. You can't deny the weird little roller coaster that was Rose and Scorpius. I'd accidentally met Emma's eye from over her shoulder that night from where she hung with the other girls and caught the look on her face. I'd held it for about two seconds, before we'd both seemed to apparently realise that we were grinning at each other and hastily looked away. We spent most of the evening talking loudly to other people (or at least I was), except for about three seconds at midnight …

"… THREE! TWO! ONE!" Emma was calling out happily when I'd caught her by the hips from behind. She'd gasped slightly as all around us, the pub burst into raucous cheers and screams.

"Happy New Year," I'd smirked into her neck.

She'd reached up a hand, curling into my hair and turning so that she could pull my mouth down to hers. I think it was the first time we'd ever done something like this outside of my flat. The place might have been crowded and dark and everyone we knew distracted by hugging and kissing each other as well, but I'd pulled away after pressing deep for only a few seconds.

Oh, don't judge. You gotta kiss someone at midnight, ok?

What with the new rock on Rose's finger, James' celebration had been quickly overtaken, although he thankfully hadn't seemed to mind much. He'd spent most of New Year's just happily hanging and apparently willing to put up with me talking non-stop. No, what got to him happened exactly a week later, when an emergency at the Cursebreaker office hit. It had apparently sent the place into utter chaos and forced Libby to hastily pack her bags.

"I can't believe she's missing my first ever match!" James said.

"Oh, really?" I muttered dryly. "I must've missed that the first thousand times you said it."

"Freeeed," James whined. Honestly, I'd only come here to ask about the Chelsea Cheetahs stadium and find out which seats were the best, only I'd found him collapsed on his sofa with a hot water bottle shoved up his shirt and wearing a fluffy dressing gown with ducks on it. Honestly. I was informed that the hot water bottle was to sooth the pain of that day's training session out on the pitch, but the whining was apparently due to the lack of Libby in this here flat.

"How am I supposed to play this match without her?" James told me, still lying flat on his back like he'd just had the wind knocked outta him. "An hour ago everything was fine! I only went to pick her up from work, 'cause I've barely seen her since I started training, and within fifteen bloody minutes, she was leaving for Italy! HOW IS THIS FAIR?"

I snorted as I plonked myself down on his coffee table next to him, making a mental note to not owl Emma that night. About nine times out of ten I was glad that I'd managed to get her spark back, and that other time she was a menace to society. With an emergency at work on this scale, she would be a right state and the only solution in these cases was to naturally avoid at all costs.

"How long she gone for?"

"At least a whole month!" James complained, slapping a hand to his forehead. "She's going to miss my birthday, too! All because a bloody tomb collapsed. Honestly, why did SHE have to be the one to go and fix it?"

"Isn't she the team leader?" I asked in amusement.

"Oh, who cares?"

"I think the Cursebreakers who were inside the tomb at the time might," I pointed out.

"Quit being rational," James glared. "I'm trying to be dramatic here!"

"I hadn't noticed."

"Seriously, Fred. How am I supposed to play like this?" James asked, desperately. "I bloody ache all over, my reserve is currently plotting my murder and there's a REASON I bailed the first time round! I can't do this, especially not without her–"

"OH MY GOD, will you shut it?" I shook my head. "James. You managed perfectly fine before Libby came into your life, and you will manage fine now! You're not good at flying because of her, you're good because you practice and you're a prodigy broom child and shit. Besides, doesn't she suck at Quidditch anyway?"

James thankfully snorted with laughter. "She doesn't even own a broom."

"Well, there you go!" I said. "As for all that other stuff, suck it up. You've got a match to win in seven days and it's not gonna happen with you whining. If in doubt, wing it and hope for the best! Oh, and that reminds me, what're the best seats in the Cheetahs stadium? We're gonna camp out in line so that we don't end up with seats directly behind a pillar or the score board or something."

"You want middle top section, those are the best," James said, thankfully with something of a chortle. "But I'll warn you that tickets are going to sell out fast. Everyone wants to come to this match."

"James, you'll be fine–" I began again exasperatedly, but he cut over me.

"Don't worry, I know. Thanks, mate."

We were silent a moment as he managed to haul himself upright on his sofa and for a second, I honestly thought he was going to change the topic and try and talk about Emma. He was watching me curiously and I avoided meeting his eye much like I had done back during the most awkward conversation of my life when we had been caught. What the hell did he even want me to tell him, anyway? Yes, so, I've got this thing going with Emma, and I kind of like it … my life is a fucking mess when you think about it.

James opened his mouth, but I leapt up and practically yelled,

"COFFEE! You need some bloody coffee, mate!" I slapped him on the back, making him cringe and swear as I almost ran for the kitchen.

Nice save, Fred. You killed it.

Do you know how much it sucks to have to listen to a match over the radio?

James' first match against the Kenmare Kestrals sold out in about two hours. That's over 40,000 people, plus the media, staff, coaches and players! I might've stood a chance at getting in, but work decided that I suddenly wasn't going to have a life in the week leading up to the match, leaving me not just cranky and tired, but ALSO ticket-less.

"Fred, I seriously would've gotten you a ticket, promise!" Rose had hugged me in utter despair when my very last hope was utterly crushed by her. "But the others had to go to work and by the time I got to the front of the line, there was only me there and they refused to sell more than three tickets per person! I tried to argue, but he threatened not to sell to me at all and –"

"Rosie, shut up, it's ok," I'd shaken my head, hugging her back exasperatedly. "I mean, you've totally just gone and killed all my hopes and dreams and I'm going to hate you the rest of my life … but it's ok!"

Rose had laughed, but it still didn't get me into the match. Therefore, I was forced to listen to it instead along with dozens of others at a crowded pub down Diagon Alley, Flash Dragon. I think it was the same place we'd taken over for New Year's, but quite honestly, I didn't come here often. I tended to frequent Muggle pubs, seeing as the odds of me accidentally running into someone I'd slept with were statistically low there, but tonight wasn't about finding somebody (well, maybe). No, tonight was about my best friend! There were several radios scattered around the pub blaring out the game commentary, everyone crowded around the wooden tables with drinks and excitement bursting to the rafters. I sat with a few of my cousins, hanging onto every word that came from those speakers.

"… and Richardson takes a beating! Ouch – yep, he's taking a time out, being subbed on for Anne Jenkins. I don't know where the Beaters were when that happened. Potter and Smith better step up if they want to win this!"

Everyone at our table groaned. "Aw, c'mon James!" Molly cried.

"What the hell're you doing?!" Dom added in equal despair.

"You'd think he'd never played before!" my little sister just shook her head, gravely.

"Shut up, there's more–" I shushed her, waving a hand.

"… so far, Potter's been holding up tonight, hasn't he Drew?" the drawly voice of commentator Stan was asking.

"That's right Stan, he's not been doing too badly for someone who's been on the team less than a month," Drew agreed. "I know that the bookies have been staking odds rather in his favour tonight!"

"Well, we'll see if he's got what it takes. Richardson's still out, but Kestrals have possession now, Serkis is ploughing down the pitch there –"

"He has got to win this!" Dom said at once. "Seriously, I don't think I'll ever be able to live down being related to him otherwise!"

"Don't freak out, course he's gonna win it," I told her.

"How do you know?" Dom shot me a shoot, pointing her bottle of Firewhiskey at me.

"Because he's my best mate, that's how," I answered, duh in my expression. I loved Dom, she was normally lots of fun! She had quite similar attitudes to me in terms of her sexuality (in other words, she'd basically fuck anything that moves) and since she's a couple years older we hadn't been forced to play together as kids, so we got on quite well now. Molly, on the other hand, was a bit of an enigma in our family. Seriously, I don't think anyone could quite figure her out, and with her dyed blue hair, ripped leather jacket and I was a serial killer in a past life t-shirt, I don't think anyone was that willing to go there. Nevertheless, she loved Quidditch as much as the rest of us, so she was out here too, along with me and Roxanne. We were sharing our table with a group of girls on the other side, but I honestly wasn't paying them attention.

"You guys don't seriously know James Potter, do you?" one of them suddenly asked me.

… much.

"He's our cousin, gorgeous!" I told the girl with a grin.

"Get out!"

"Nah, nah, tellin' the truth! James is my best mate," I swore.

"No way … is he single, then?" she asked, only to get several of her friends smacking her on the arm. "Tina!" they cried and she yelled, "WHAT? I was just asking!"

"Sorry, dear Tina, 'fraid to tell you James is off the market," I said. "I mean, I'm not, but whatever you wanna do with that …"

Tina giggled. She was cute, in a young and blond kind of way. I was fairly certain she couldn't be much older than 19 or 20, and she had glitter on her eyes, but you know, I have no standards. Suddenly, someone thumped my arm hard and I swore loudly as I whirled around.

"What the hell, Roxie?!" I cried, rubbing my shoulder.

"What're you doing?" she hissed, as Tina and the rest of our table went back to listening to the game.

"Nothing!"

"You're flirting!"

"So?" I thumped her back for good measure.

"Oh, are we beating each other up now?" Molly called from across the table, interested.

"Molly, just listen to the match!" I yelled back. "Roxie, would you shut up? I know what you're trying to argue with me about, and it's none of your business."

"Ok, so you're telling me," Roxanne raised an eyebrow at me, absently rubbing her rapidly bruising forearm. "that Emma would have no problem with this."

"We're not like that."

"So, you'd tell her if you slept with someone else?"

"Jesus Christ, all I did was talk to the girl!"

"Yeah, with the intention of sleeping with her later."

"Roxie–" I began, but quickly closed my eyes. It wouldn't be good for moral (not to mention keeping Molly out of Azkaban) if I murdered my sister now. "– look, yeah, sure! I'd totally tell Emma, not that she would care."

"Fine," Roxanne smirked. "fine, go ahead, sleep with whoever you want! Tell Emma. I've been looking for a way to get you killed without having to do it myself."

"You better watch it, or –"

Suddenly, the entire pub exploded in a myriad of cheers and screaming. People cried and threw their arms around each other. Dom snogged the first person she saw. Molly grabbed Roxanne and span her around. "What – WHAT?" I yelled, only to have someone pull on my shoulder.

Suddenly, someone was kissing me.

"Sorry!" Tina spluttered, cheeks bright red. "But we won!"

"Wait, shit – we won?" I cried.

"Yeah, the Cheetahs Seeker just caught the Snitch!"

"Oh my god!"

"Yeah!" Tina laughed and I randomly hugged her with glee. I didn't even care that she'd kissed me, it hardly even registered in my brain. James, the idiot, actually managed to win his first match! Granted, he had a little help in the form of his Seeker, but that wasn't the point. He was seriously a full-blown Quidditch star now! He'd been dreaming of this day ever since we were little kids and he'd told me rather seriously as a five-year-old that he was going to rule the pitch someday. If I remember correctly, I had snorted at him something along the lines of, "Yeah, right – let's go put worms in Roxie's pants again!"

The bastard actually did it!

That, my friends, was when the real party started. Somebody bought celebratory champagne and it all kind of went spectacular from there. Everyone cheered and laughed with each other, the pub started blasting the music and tables got moved out of the way when the late hour hit, so now we could also dance in celebration of our win. Luckily, there didn't appear to be too many fans of the Kestrals in here, so the atmosphere stayed crazy and upbeat. In fact, by the time James finally showed up at around one in the morning, the pub was busy breaking out the conga line!

"MATE!" I cried, throwing myself at him.

"Whoa – Fred!" James laughed, hugging me back.

"James, you fuckin' KILLED the Kestrals!" I yelled. "Holy buggering shit, I can't believe you did it!"

"Hey!" James certainly looked like he'd been dragged behind a bus for a good few miles. He didn't appear to have any major injuries, but he winced whenever he moved and his hair was an utter mess. Or maybe I was the one moving? Whooooo …

"Mate, you all right?" James asked as I staggered.

"What?"

"You nearly fell over!"

"Yeah, well, you oughta get to this stage too!" I said, shoving my own drink in his hands. "Are the others here?"

"Yeah! Rosie and Scorpius, Al and Bea – blimey, I'm going to have to call Libby later – and I think Em's still here somewhere –?"

"You invited Emma?" Shit. My chest suddenly screwed up and I yanked the drink back out of James' hands before he'd even taken a sip. I downed the entire thing.

"She came to the match!" James snorted. "Since Libby had to be in Italy, Emma used her ticket that she won, remember?"

"Oh, right …" I mumbled, but quite honestly, I barely remembered such a conversation. I didn't remember a lot of things right now! I could recall that Libby was still in Italy, probably digging out rocks or wrestling with mummies or whatever. I might've actually known what Cursebreakers did for real if I ever bothered to ask Emma, considering the two worked together and all, but I kept suppressing the idea. Actually, I'd been doing that a lot lately.

Run, RUN YOU LITTLE FUCKER, my brain kept yelling at me.

Oh, shut up, I kept saying back.

Thankfully, James claimed he needed a drink as he rolled his eyes, throwing his arm over my shoulders and walking us to the bar. I think the entire pub went beside itself at the fact that THE JAMES POTTER had just walked in, because we got waylaid about five times along the way. Eventually, it was only our cousins and mates surrounding us that allowed us to get anywhere!

"Jesus, you're right famous now!" I pointed out.

"Ahhh, it's just 'cause we won," James grinned. "Trust me, if we'd lost, they'd all be cursing my guts out."

"True," I shrugged.

"FRED!" Rose called out then, appearing over my shoulder and squeezing an arm around my neck. "Wasn't James amazing?!"

"I only gotta hear 'bout it, but sure!" I cried, dramatically.

"Oh, hush," Rose laughed. "Hey, Emma's here–"

"Yeah, I heard," I grumbled. "Honestly–"

"MOVE ASIDE, BITCHES!" The Princess herself arrived. Oh my god. What the hell am I doing here? I might have just up and turned around to walk away, but it probably wasn't the best idea to let go of Rose at the moment. Emma rocked on up with a paw print painted on her cheek in gold paint and a hand-made fan shirt, which was basically just a black t-shirt with 'Go Cheetahs!' written on it in the same gold. She was ridiculous. She winked at me.

Shit, what's my name again?

"Where's the alcohol at, 'cause I'm buyin'!" Emma yelled once she had reached us with a bang of her fist on the bar. She rested an arm over James' shoulder.

"Oh, wine for me!" Bea called, catching up.

"Finally!" James cried once he'd turned from the bar and noticed everyone else turn up. "I just got out of the official match after-party, and quite honestly I think I've drunk too much wine already, but who the hell cares? DRINKS ON EMMA!"

The others cheered as our other cousins rocked on up, Dom and Molly yelling at James and piling on top of him. Scorpius also appeared, stealing Rose from me as he wrapped his arms enthusiastically around her shoulders from behind. I turned and watched Rose laugh and lean up to kiss him briefly, which was about as affectionate I think I'd ever seen them. Normally, they're busy screaming at each other in public. Maybe it had something to do with the goddamned rock on her finger? Who knew. I'd ceased understanding them years ago. There were literally so many of us now that even though I knew I was supposed to know everybody here, my brain was non-functioning and starting to swim! Who was it I was accepting a drink from, again?

"Don' worry, Fred, it's on me!" Emma was suddenly in front of me, shoving a Firewhiskey into my hands. Nobody around us had thankfully mentioned the fact that technically, we were supposed to barely know each other. I didn't even know if anyone other than James and Roxanne knew. I accepted the drink without question, but accidentally caught my sister's eye from across the bar, and the look she gave me was enough to make me uncomfortably turn away and hastily start talking to Bea.

I admittedly didn't talk to Bea that often, but she was pretty cool, I guess. She was pretty, but I met her when I was like, twelve, so I unfortunately grew up imagining her as a younger sister who was less annoying than Roxanne, at least. Well, there was that and the fact that James had come up to me a couple years later and said, "Fair warning, I just talked to Al. Actually, 'talked' is a loose term. Basically, it goes like this: if we ever kiss Bea … we're dead." Rose had taken to the dance floor with Dom and Roxanne, and soon she was calling out and beckoning Bea frantically that she should come and join them. "C'mon, Fred!" Bea said excitedly, taking my hand and dragging me after her.

Hey, I know I was technically related to all of them somehow, but I got to dance surrounded by a group of pretty girls! Let's face it, everyone knows that the Weasley family is smokin'. Damnit, I think I've had one too many Firewhiskey's. Rose and Bea grabbed my hands and did the twist in time with the music, while Dom and Roxanne flung each other around. James was no doubt somewhere, either crying over how much he missed Libby, or busy drinking so that he didn't. I didn't care where Emma was.

Nope.

Naturally, she turned up.

I couldn't tell you how. My brain had been screaming something at me earlier (something about running?), but now it was just fucking shot. Music was pounding, there were people everywhere and someone yelled at me, but I couldn't hear a thing. One second, it was Rose in front of me and the next, it was Emma who was hanging onto my shoulder, laughing and tripping slightly on her feet. Why was dancing with her a RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™ idea again? OH, WELL. I grabbed her hips and she instinctively moved into me. There was really no talent in it, and quite honestly, I think it barely even counted as 'dancing'. It was more … moving relatively in time to music. Her arms wound around my neck and I couldn't see anything beyond her. Fuck, fuck, FUCKING FUCK! What the hell was I doing? The crowd blurred and literally the only thing that stood out was her. Eventually, the dancing must have crossed a line at some point, because the next thing I realised was that we'd been kissing passionately for what felt like the last three songs.

"From – from a scale of one to blackout, how sober are ya?" Emma muttered.

"Fucking blackout, Sweetheart."

"Good … I think everyone knows, now."

"Knows what?"

"Merlin, we are drunk!"

"They know we're drunk? Ok."

"Noooo, I mean … oh, whatever."

She kissed me again. I really do like kissing that mouth! Emma's mouth just got mine, y'know? She knew what I liked and I didn't have to put up with an unknown waging war against my tonsils! See? What bad idea?

Things got a little heated on that dance floor. It got to the point where Dom was whistling at us and a burly security guard with his wand conveniently held in his hand told us to either break it up, or go find a nice bathroom somewhere. Oh, we found somewhere, all right! We accidentally knocked over a rubbish bin as I shoved Emma up against the brick outside wall of the bar. We weren't alone out here in the shadowy side alleyway. There was a homeless wizard a few rubbish skips down, and another couple, one of whom I think was vomiting violently into the gutter. There was literally nothing classy about this.

I still fucked her against the pub wall.

She'd protested that she was too short for it and that she wanted her leggings back once I stripped them off her because it was cold, but it didn't stop her. Nothing stopped us. Praying I didn't drop her, I wrapped her legs around me and simply kissed her to shut her up. I was aching to have her, and we both let out very loud, and very embarrassing moans when I sank into her. I didn't understand how this woman could do it. Good sex was easy when you knew how, but fucking amazing sex took a particular person. Emma was that person. She was my person.

Emma curled her fingers in my hair and whispered into my ear what she wanted to do to me. She was incredible.

"Y'know, I think we have better sex when we're drunk," Emma was eventually telling me, once she had gingerly slid down the bricks and placed her feet back on the ground. Then, she eyed me peering at the ground and said, "mind, tha's if you evah find my leggin's – you know if you've lost 'em, I'm gonna kill you!"

"Whoa," I sniggered. "Did you realise that your accent gets WAY stronger if you've been drinking?"

"FRED!"

"They were right here," I said exasperatedly, gesturing frantically at the damp and grotty ground. My exuberant moves made me stumble. "Whoa–!"

"Wait, you idiot–" Emma had lurched forward to keep me from face-planting and grabbed at my jacket. I glanced down in surprise, and sure enough, turns out her black leggings were half stuffed into my pocket. I burst into laughter as I pulled them out, Emma cracking up a second later.

"Oh my god!" she nearly cried. "We are such a hot mess!"

"Can you hear someone shouting?"

We both paused suddenly, Emma using my shoulder to lean heavily on as she quickly tugged her legs back into her leggings (don't ask me where her underwear was, I don't want to think about it). We glanced back out into the softly lit street outside the pub, where it seemed a conflict was a-brewin'! If I weren't mistaken by the Kestrel green, it seemed some of them had infiltrated enemy territory, and the Cheetahs were not happy!

"Oh, lord," Emma shook her head. "is that a fight?"

"WOOO! FIGHT! FIGHT!" I yelled.

"FRED!"

"What?" I said.

"Tha's support for James' team, what if 'es in there?"

Oh, right, fuck. Emma and I quickly stumbled for the street, still leaning against each other, mainly because it was the only way to walk without falling over. The loud and insult-throwing group of fans hadn't seemed to have quite escalated into a full-on duel yet, but sparks were issuing from wands and there seemed to be a lot of anger being thrown around! The bouncers outside the pub were glancing at each other, probably wondering when they had a right to yell at them to take it somewhere else. Thankfully, we ran into James and several of the others outside the pub, all watching the carnage in varying expressions of horror and amusement.

"Wha's going on?" Emma yelled once we were near.

"Oh, hey," James snorted when he saw us rock on up. "totally wasn't wondering where you two went."

"Shut up, we're classy as fuck!" she said, slapping his shoulder.

Blimey, Emma.

James rolled his eyes, but pointed at the yelling group. "We think Molly may have accidentally started a gang war."

"Over Quidditch?"

"People get very serious about Quidditch!" James insisted.

"Ok, ok!" Al was the one to cut in, now. He had his arm slung around his wife and most of us turned to look at him, including Roxanne clinging onto Dom (who was busy trying to flirt with some bloke behind our little group at the same time), James leaning against the nearest lamp post, and Rose and Scorpius about five feet behind us, currently snogging fiercely and not listening to a word said. "I'm not going to Azkaban tonight, so who's the soberest out of everyone here?"

No one spoke up.

"I think it's you, mate," Roxanne pointed out.

"Well, I'm not up to Apparating, and the Bouncer won't let us back inside, so train station it is," Al shrugged. "You bitches can find your own way home after that!"

Behind us, there was a sudden BANG. Someone had finally snapped and the duel had broken out. We all jumped and someone shrieked as residual purple smoke was left over the raining curses and yelling. In amongst the insanity, I saw blue-haired Molly cackling evilly, hexing a Kestrel's face backwards.

See, they definitely got that poll wrong when I was the Weasley voted, 'Most Likely to End Up in Azkaban'.

A/N: Sorry for the inconsistent updating. The finale for 'The X Files' revival aired and I got very, very distracted! This chapter sure went on a journey and I'm not entirely sure what happened, but a majority of it coincides with chapter 31 of WJML. Honestly, these two exhaust me. I can barely keep with them and their severely messed up feelings!

I really, really hope you liked it. Please let me know what you thought! As Agent Scully would say, I do it all for you! xoxo

Sorry, wrong fandom.

Until next time -

- Moon. :D