Much to Rosie's surprise, Fred walked her all the way back to the Ravenclaw portrait hole. Only their footsteps echoed off the centuries old stone of Hogwarts castle. Rosie had expected him to crack a joke or two along the way, but Fred was surprisingly quiet. She thought that maybe he had something on his mind, so she decided to remain silent as well; that is, until they reached the portrait that guarded the Ravenclaw dormitories beyond. Rosie stopped and turned to face him, rubbing her arm with her left hand.
"Um… it was really fun to visit Hogsmeade. With you, I mean," Rosie mumbled, her voice echoing oddly in the empty corridor. Fred smiled good naturedly, stepping forward. The petite girl's heart fluttered in her chest. Was he about to…?
He pulled out a box from his pocket, holding it out to her. "Don't forget these," Fred reminded her, offering her the box of Fizzing Whizbees. Rosie exhaled slowly; it wasn't what she had thought, thank goodness. As she reached out to take the box, though, he pulled it away.
"Fred!" she whined, though she smiled as she continued to try to snatch the box from him. He took a step back as she took one towards him, but as Rosie moved forward, she stepped on the hem of her robes and fell forward, her forehead colliding with Fred's chin. He reflexively caught her in his arms so that she wouldn't fall to the stone floor. Rosie gasped, but thankfully he didn't hear. Against Fred's chest, though, she felt wonderfully warm and cozy; she didn't want to pull away, but she forced herself to straighten up and look at him.
"Easy there, Petunia," he said softly, that devil-may-care smile curving his lips. His eyes twinkled mischievously, and for a moment Rosie wondered if he had set things up just so that she would trip like that. She dismissed the though almost immediately, thinking that the very idea of it was ludicrous. Then again, not many would put it past him.
Straightening herself up, Rosie took the box of sweets from him; this time he gave them to her willingly. "Sorry," she said, her cheeks reddening, brushing away a lock of her hair. "First you fall on me, and then I fall on you. It's just—"
"You think we're falling for each other?" Fred suggested, grinning broadly.
"What?" she asked stupidly, but before Fred could say anything else, the portrait to Rosie's left huffed impatiently. "Oh, sorry. Guess I'll see you later?" she asked, giving him a hopeful look. Fred spun on his heel and waved back to her.
"When you least expect it, Blossom."
Rosie spent Sunday morning recounting—in detail—her "date" with Fred, right down to tripping in the corridor to Meredith. The two of them sat, as per usual, on Rosie's bed, Meredith sitting cross-legged and clutching a pillow to herself, still in her pajamas. Her eyes were bulging, as though trying to visualize and soak up every little detail. When Rosie finally finished, Meredith squealed and giggled like she was seven years old, at last getting in on a secret.
"I can't believe it went so well! I knew my advice would come in handy! One more date and you've got him, mark my words," Meredith chattered excitedly, rocking back and forth.
"Went so well?" Rosie repeated incredulously. "Were you even listening when I mentioned how awkward some parts of it were?" Meredith cocked her head thoughtfully.
"Hmm… Nope," she said cheerily. "Come on, think about the good parts! Like when he fell on you," Meredith grinned. Rosie blushed and threw another pillow at her.
"That wasn't a good thing! It was uncomfortable enough without the whole shop staring at us!" Meredith snorted.
"Bollocks, Rosie. You loved it."
Okay, so maybe Fred's warm, firm body falling on her in Honeydukes had been something of a treat for her. But was she about to admit to that? No.
"It was an awkward accident," Rosie said with a tone of finality, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes at her best friend since their first year at Hogwarts. Meredith smiled—Rosie knew that smile. It was the kind of smile that said 'I know something you don't know'—and she didn't like it.
"Well, if it was just an awkward accident, say yes to the next thing he asks you." Rosie looked at her, completely at a loss. It was definitely the strangest thing she had heard coming from Meredith—and she had heard a lot come out of her mouth.
"What are you on about?" Rosie asked, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. Meredith just smiled again, shaking her head and leaving the dormitory.
Curiously, Rosie hardly saw Fred—or George, for that matter—for the next few weeks, and that usually meant they were up to something. In fact, when she finally did run into them, Fred and George were sporting identical beards that nearly reached the floor. Her jaw dropped as they waved cheerily at her, looking like the fabled Muggle Rip van Winkle.
"Fred—George—what in the name of Morgan le Fay—" she spluttered, unable to even form a coherent sentence.
"That goblet can tell when someone's taken an Aging Potion," George explained. "Must say though, I think we look rather fetching with beards—don't you agree, Fred?"
"Definitely," his twin nodded. He looked to Rosie. "That's what we wanted to see you in the kitchens for that one time. We figured that with your smarts, you could think up a way to make us old enough without using a potion."
"Oh," Rosie said, blinking repeatedly as though she had just been Ennervated; she was quite taken aback and could think of nothing else to say.
"Well, we'll see you later, Bluebonnet!" George said, he and Fred turning the corner.
When Rosie got wind of Harry Potter being selected as a second champion from Hogwarts, and that subsequently he would be facing a dragon in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, she was certainly relieved that the Goblet of Fire had rejected Fred. Just imagining him facing a dragon made her nervous. As she hurried down to the greenhouses for Herbology, imagining with nauseating clarity a dragon making a meal of Fred, she collided—once again—with Draco Malfoy, who was making his way back to the castle from Care of Magical Creatures. Again, her bag went flying, her books littering the emerald grasses of the grounds, Rosie's collarbone smarting a little from the impact of Draco's shoulder.
"Flat on your ass once again, it seems," sniggered the pale Slytherin prince, kicking her ink bottle which hit her squarely in the eye. She yelped loudly, covering her eye with her hand. Treading deliberately on her quills, parchment, and textbooks, Malfoy stalked towards her, pushing her chin up forcefully, making her look him in the eye.
"Good one," Goyle said with a guttural chortle as Draco surveyed the darkening mark around Rosie's eye. Rosie was surprised the ignoramus was even capable of speech. 'Must not be a complete troll then,' she mused.
"Now you'll have a lovely black eye to match your hair, Harper," Draco sneered mockingly, smirking. Her eye definitely stung enough to make her believe Malfoy's words, but she forced herself to hold back any sign of pain.
"Shut up," she whispered, close enough to him that she didn't need to raise her voice.
"Excuse me?" he replied as though she was a servant disobeying an order. Rosie curled her lip in disgust.
Her clenched fist flew forward, connecting solidly with his crotch in a left hook that would likely fell a small troll. As Malfoy slumped to the ground, Rosie laughed with triumph, mentally thanking her brothers for all the years they had spent picking on her until she had learned to fight back.
Crabbe and Goyle just gawked stupidly as Draco lay moaning on the grass, curled in the fetal position. Without a word to any of them, Rosie picked up her things and headed to Herbology, and, despite a smarting soon-to-be-black eye, her day couldn't have been going better.
Rosie couldn't wait to tell Meredith and the twins, so when lunch came, she nearly skipped down the hall with glee, humming happily to herself. Bounding to her customary spot next to Meredith, she started chattering away before even saying hello.
"Youwhat?" Meredith asked after recovering from a choking fit on her mint tea.
"You heard me," Rosie said with pride, clasping her hands tightly together as though the memory of the event on the grounds would disappear if she didn't. Meredith shook her head in disbelief.
"Maybe asking you to loosen up a bit was a bad idea," she smiled, sprinkling some salt on the plate of vegetables she was tucking in to.
"Bollocks, Mer," said a voice behind the pair.
"Best thing that could have happened to her," said a second, similar voice.
Both girls spun around in their seats to see the grinning twin faces of Fred and George, the redheads seemingly impressed with the story of Rosie's victory over Malfoy.
"Heard it was an excellent right hook," George said eagerly, mimicking the movie in air with his fist.
"It must have been a left hook," Fred corrected him. "She's left-handed." Rosie smiled modestly and nodded.
"Well then," put in Meredith, "how about we celebrate this momentous occasion?"
"In true Weasley fashion," George added.
"By meeting at the spot where the prat fell and holding a picnic," Fred chimed in.
"Ten o' clock?" Rosie piped up with a giggle.
"Ten o' clock," the other three replied.
For Rosie, things just seemed to be getting better and better.
Or at least, that was what she thought.