GEORGE'S POV:

I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the floor, frowning when nothing interesting caught my eye and then telling myself I was being ridiculous. Like the floor was going to distract me from thoughts of a blond girl with an angel's face.

Sighing in frustration, I fell backwards on the bed and pulled my pillow down over my face. Unable to squelch the thoughts of her, I strode out of the room, determined to find something to distract me, maybe talk to someone.

The first thing I saw when I walked into the common room, was a group of girls huddled around each other on the floor in front of the fire. I couldn't see any of their faces, with their heads bent inward together, but I saw clearly the blond hair that had been haunting me since I met her. Zoe.

The girls all leaned away, giggling. I saw her smile and my breath caught. I was sure my face was completely ridiculous, so I looked away and kept walking past the girls.

I opened the door to the common room and sat on the ground outside, trying to get my bearings.

"You're acting like an idiot, George." I told myself silently. This time, to make it more believable to my own ears, I said out loud, "She's just a girl."

"Who's just a girl?" came a female voice from behind me.

I jumped a little and turned to see Zoe looking at me curiously.

"No one. I was just- ah, talking to myself about some things." I said, moving over a little to make room for her to sit beside me.

She lowered herself down and sat beside me, leaning to her other side to be sure we weren't touching at all.

"About what?" she asked, not looking at me and inspecting a nail.

I shook my head and said, "Just some school stuff."

She looked at me like she didn't believe a word I said, but dropped it.

The halls were silent and dark, devoid of its normal chatter. I felt my hands clam up and nonchalantly rubbed the moisture off on the side of my pants.

She looked down at her hands, one hand holding the other in her lap, and her hair fell lightly in front to the side of her face, blocking it from my view. "So, look…" she started. She seemed to be struggling with something. Finally, she looked up at me and said, "I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have been so…" Unable to grasp the right word immediately, she looked up and waved her hands about as if it would conjure up some word in her vocabulary that would fit.

I took the opportunity and cut in. "Don't worry about it."

She shot me a grateful glance before saying, "I guess I'm going to go back inside."

I nodded, thinking that was probably a good idea; the hall outside the common room was suddenly very cold.

We both stood, and turned for the door. One of her feet must not have gotten the message to turn, because she tripped over one of them. Seeing the problem before she could, I held my arms out as she fell forward. I tried to help her stand straight and ended up with her leaning on my chest and me holding her elbows.

We paused and looked into each other's eyes for a moment. Her blue eyes for once not icy with dislike. Now they were almost wondering.

It was our moment in time. One small chunk out of forever that I would always be grateful for and I would never forget.

I felt my face turn red as she shook her head and blinked a few times. When she reopened her eyes, the icy aloofness was back and I felt my heart sink.

She pushed herself away abruptly and said, "Thanks." hastily before turning and walking through the door without a backward glance.

FRED'S POV:

I walked back to the common room with Violet. The walk back was quiet and a little awkward. But the darkness helped.

When we got to the door of the Gryffindor common room, I was surprised to see George standing outside it, looking at the door without focusing his vision on it, like he wasn't really seeing it. His expression was blank and almost confused. Like maybe he didn't know how to walk anymore, or didn't know what he was supposed to do now.

"George?" I said, setting a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped and turned to face me.

I told Violet to go on ahead without me and George and I sat down out of the way so she could slip by.

"What's going on? What happened?" I asked, watching his still-staring face for any change in expression.

There was none as he responded. "I talked to her. The girl I was talking to at the meeting today. Zoë."

Failing to see the point, I said, "Yeah, and?"

He looked up then, his eyes slightly wider than normal. "I don't know. We were just talking, but, I don't know, when she stood up she kind of fell and then we were looking at each other and…" He looked stricken.

"People look at each other all the time, George. In fact I'm looking at you now."

He gave me a look that said quite clearly that jokes on the subject weren't welcome.

"Go on, then." I sad after awkwardly clearing my throat.

"It wasn't like just looking at each other. It was different. She was leaning on me and I was holding her and when we looked at each other, we were so close. It was different than just looking at a person. It was like really seeing a person. You know? Oh of course you don't, you kiss on the first date, not stopping to see if you really know a person." I was about to interject, but he held up a hand and continued on. "Anyways, while we were looking at each other, she just turned and left."

I frowned and had to admit that even I, Fred Weasley, prankster extraordinaire, thought that was bad manners. "She didn't say anything?"

George shook his head and looked down at his feet. "Tons of girls in this school that are head-over-bloody-heels in love with us and the one I want is the one that doesn't want me back." he grumbled miserably, kicking at a scuff mark on the wood floors.

"Don't worry, George." I said, awkwardly patting his back.

He nodded and stood up, turning for the door. I stayed outside for a while longer, thinking about Violet.

She had seemed genuinely excited and cooperative with our plan. I hoped the disappointment hadn't been too clear on my face. The plan had been a great idea and I had loved the idea as much as she had, but the more I thought about it, the more I didn't want to take my time with her. I wanted to be with her now. But I would have to wait. I already said I would, so I would keep up my end of the deal.

With that thought stuck in my head, I went up to bed.

VIOLET'S POV:

I walked into the common room, leaving Fred and George outside. I wondered what was going on with George as I walked up the stairs and over to my bed.

I crawled under the covers and laid my head gently on the pillow with an exhausted sigh. Sleep didn't come easily, though. I kept tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable but failing horribly every time. Finally, I fell into unconsciousness and gratefully let my mind sink to sleep.

The dream I had was confusing and left me with many questions that couldn't be answered.

I was standing in a room full of people, a blur of faces passing me by as they danced in circles around me. They were all smiling and wearing fancy dresses and suits. I looked down at myself and saw that I, too, was in a long, shimmering dress.

Before me stood two young men. I couldn't see their faces, only the silhouette of their figures against the bright lights of the room.

One was tall and leaned on one leg in a casual, laid-back stance. His hair was short and he held his head up. I could tell this was Fred. I had known him for only a few days and already, the way he held himself was familiar to me.

The other boy was shorter and also had short hair, but it was a little longer than Fred's. He stood proudly, his back straight and his head tossed back in what I assumed was laughter. Something about this figure was familiar, too, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Just as I thought I had the name right, Fred's features faded into his outline, proving my first assumption right.

He reached his hand out, his eyes soft and sparkling in the dim lighting. I put my hand in his hand and he squeezed gently, pulling me out into the sea of blurred faces. He put one hand on my waist and laced his fingers through my other hand.

I was normally a terrible dancer, always stumbling and nearly falling over my own feet. But now, I glided easily over the hardwood floors of the great room. Fred smiled down at me and said something, but I couldn't hear him over the sound of laughter and music that slurred together in a cacophony of ballroom noises.

Then, we stopped dancing and dropped our arms. Fred leaned in and kissed me softly, then put his arms around me and pulled away as I laid my head on his chest.

Something was troubling me but I couldn't quite catch what. Just as I was beginning to wake up, I caught sight of something.

The other figure was standing in the corner, watching us with his head tilted down almost ashamed-looking. But somehow, I could tell he was glaring at us.