FRED'S POV:
I waited, still staring at our hands. I waited for her to say something. I had just confessed to years of loving her in silence, you would think she had some thoughts to share.
But all she said was, "Oh."
I kept my head down. Then, I felt her repeat my earlier actions and she lifted my head with the side of her knuckle. I kept my eyes down as she brought my head up but they lifted upward as my head was held higher.
Her eyes were incredibly soft and kind. I had known she was very understanding and nice, but this was the nicest thing I thought anyone anywhere would do.
"Okay. So?" She said.
"So? What do you mean 'So?' I just confessed to having loved you for quite some time now and we have been best friends since we were first years. Don't you feel… Awkward?"
She shook her head and smiled slightly.
"Well… Why not?" I asked, wishing that the reason I had in mind was the truth, but knowing it wasn't. If it was, all of my love problems would be solved. Look at me, Fred Weasley… In love. I still couldn't believe it, and I had already had years to get used to the idea.
"I don't know. You're my best friend. I don't know why you saying that isn't awkward, I just… I don't know. You're my best friend and I love you… In a way. My own way. Like my brother."
I felt my face fall. I had instantly perked up when she said she loved me, but I should've known better.
Like a brother? I thought. I have been her best friend (and admirer, regardless of her previous knowledge on the fact) for years and she is saying she feels like one sibling feels for another?
But the look on her face and in her eyes said differently. I wondered just what she was keeping from me.
"I thought I was your best friend." I asked, not sounding mad.
She looked at me confused.
"I know you're lying. I can see it in your eyes. I've been your best friend for years, I know your tell."
She looked guiltily about her and then said, "I don't know how I feel about this right now. I love George, but for some reason, I feel good about you loving me. Like when you like someone and they finally like you. The relief you feel."
I was staring at her hand when I told her quietly, "I wouldn't know. I've only ever liked you."
She blushed and tried to hide a smile by looking down.
I had never expected this to go so well. So maybe she did feel something for me. Maybe she would fall out of love with George and then she would maybe discover feelings for ME.
"So… You have feelings for me then?" I couldn't help asking.
She hesitated and it seemed like she was about to lie to me again, but then decided better of it; I was her best friend, I deserved the truth.
"I think I might. But it feels weird mixed with the love I feel for your brother."
My face and heart fell and she saw it.
"I'm sorry." She said, looking down.
"Don't be sorry about the way you feel." I said with such feeling she looked up with wide eyes.
She probably didn't expect the Weasley twins capable of saying or feeling something with such intensity.
"So we are still good, and we are going to go on like none of this ever happened?" She asked.
I looked at her weird, like maybe I though she thought this was more awkward than she let on.
She realized at once the way her words must have sounded. "Oh no!" she hit her forehead, still looking completely beautiful. "I meant lets not let things get awkward. And we can pretend around everyone else that this never happened. At least until I figure out how I feel about this?"
She looked hopeful. Most likely hoping I wouldn't take this phrasing the wrong way.
I nodded and she held out her hand, and I pushed it away shaking my head.
When she looked at me quizzically, I said, "Spit handshake shake."
It was an inside joke between me and Violet. I had cherished it, knowing that it was something special just between us. Not including George or Jane… Just us two.
She smiled and spit loudly on her hand. I copied her and we held our hands out both cupping our saliva. We hit wrists and tried to make sure the spit didn't splash.
If it didn't, we continued on with the handshake and the promise was sure to be kept. If it did, we stopped and it wouldn't be kept.
It didn't splash. Just like every other time we had done this. Sure people had looked at us strange, but we didn't care, and I was happy that we had such good trust that even this goofy superstition made up by two silly 11-year-olds didn't show any sign of wavering.
We continued the handshake, both simultaneously doing elaborate tricks with our hands. It looked perfectly choreographed, as well it should be, we had had years of practice to get used to it. Then, we shook like normal people, our spit mixing in our clasped hands.
Most girls would have found this completely disgusting, but not my Violet.
Did I just call her MY Violet? As much as I wished she was, she never could be. I didn't trust my luck enough to let me have the most amazing girl I could think of.
We both laughed at our silliness that, even after all these years, remained intact and dunked our hands into the water of the fountain, trying to wash away the spit. I pulled my hand up out of the water and began wiping it on my jean-covered leg.
Violet's hand lingered under the water and when I looked up and said, "Wh-" she splashed me full in the face.
I looked down, water dripping off my chin and nose and making wet splatters on my white T-shirt that was only partially covered by my black jacket.
I was shocked.
The water was bitingly cold and the wind the whipped choppily through the courtyard was a terrible feeling. But somehow, having her there made the cold better, more bearable.
I began pretending there was something on the edge of the stone bench-like structure that rimmed the fountain. Then I dipped my hand in and splashed her back.
She made a squealing noise and hopped up, moving quickly to the other side of the fountain.
I got up and, smiling at her, put my hand in the water and tried to splash her, but she moved behind the statue sticking up from out of the middle of the fountain's base.
This meant water-war.
VIOLET'S POV:
I was having fun. And lots of it.
Fred and I dodged and shielded each others assaults and laughed and took some hits of the water bravely.
I had put my hand in the fountain, getting ready to splash him again, but I thought, 'Why not get in the fountain and kick it at him.' It would certainly be more effective.
I hopped up and ran the length of the fountain, only to find that Fred had the same idea.
We collided in the middle and his arm wrapped around me so I didn't slip and fall into the water, still laughing. I held onto him tighter, making sure I didn't fall. He pulled me close and I swung my arms up around his neck, squeezing him in a hug.
I heard him breathe deeply. Poor guy. He had to watch as the one he loved went after his twin brother. I felt he needed the hug.
"I'm sorry." I whispered.
"For what?" he asked, pulling back to look at me but keeping his arms around me.
"Because I know I'm hurting you and I feel terrible about it."
He looked like he was about to dismiss my pity, but just then, our exchange was interrupted by a hacking cough.
We both wore masks of similar fear.
"Filch." We both whispered at the same time.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the fountain, dragging me along with him to a small wooden door inside the half indoor half outdoor square hallway that ringed the courtyard. He opened it to reveal a small broom cupboard containing 2 brooms, a bucket, and various random things of the sort such as a glove without its partner.
We ran in and had to smush together to fit in. We were pressed against each other and we couldn't move, least we make to much noise with the clatter-worthy equipment surrounding us. The door was left open just a cark so we could see when Filch left.
I could see Fred in the light coming in from the crack. He was very attractive. His red hair just barely hung over his forehead and his smile seemed to almost never be gone from his face.
He was watching out the door for Filtch. Then he turned his head to me.
The light coming form the cracked door only lit half of his face. But even in the dark, I could see how bright of a blue his eyes were. Much brighter than George's.
I was captivated. I couldn't seem to look away from his enchanting blue eyes. I saw everything there in his eyes. I saw the "I love you" written there.
I could feel more than see the distance closing between us. I noted everything around me. I could still hear Filtch mumbling to his wretched cat that he had heard something. I could feel Fred's hard chest pressed against me. I felt my arms slowly wrapping around his waist. I could feel his warm breath wash over my skin. I could smell his pleasant oak-y earth scent. I could also feel my heart begin to beat loudly and some part of me hoped Filtch would not hear it.
But mostly, I thought about kissing Fred.
In one day, everything had changed. Fred had declared his love for me, I'd told him of my love for his brother, and here I was about to kiss him.
But I didn't care. In that second when our lips were just centimeters apart, I wanted nothing more than I wanted for him to kiss me.
Then, our lips connected.
It was everything I had expected sharing a kiss with George would be and more. It felt odd because it felt right. I thought, for that one moment of time, that I belonged with Fred. In his kiss, he conveyed a message. That message told me something about his devotion and love for me. It felt as if he would never love another, as if he would only ever want me. I know this was silly to believe of a teenage boy, but I felt it and knew it. I knew he would do anything for me, be anything for me.
The kiss was light and slow and seemed to go on forever… But forever wasn't long enough for me.
I put my hands on either side of his face and deepened the kiss.
I forgot all about George and Jane and the stupid Charms test I had to take next week. All I could think about was Fred.
Then, the kiss ended. We broke away, breathing deeply. It didn't matter how hard we breathed, Filtch and his cat were gone.
"Violet?" Fred asked.
I couldn't see him in the dark room; he had moved against the wall and out of the light.
"Yes, Fred?" I answered, moving closer.
"I love you."
Even if I didn't know if I did love him back or not, I couldn't help but smile.
