Wednesday, December 18, 1995

This time, Michelle was the one trying to avoid Fred, well more like ignore him. She found his persistence extraordinary. He was everywhere she turned. His vast knowledge of her schedule was a little unnerving. What has he been doing the last month? Following me around? The idea of her timetable being ingrained into his memory made her wonder about his intentions. She consistently shook that idea from her head. Fred Weasley is NOT interested in me. He knows just as well as I do that we would never work. She knew that he was following her to apologize, but she wasn't sure she wanted to accept it. That night had been pulse-pounding and exhilarating. Michelle knew she would have been disappointed had she missed it. But when would she have ever found out about that night? No matter what was on her mind, she kept coming back to that point. She and Fred weren't mates; despite what he blurted out in the library that one afternoon. They were nothing, regardless of what his eyes said in that dark, dirty tunnel.

Michelle also knew she could never fault George for what happened that night. They weren't used to worrying about a third on their missions, at least not one that had to go to another house. They ran to Gryffindor together. She was odd man out, like she had been in so many things before. There was no reason for them to be fighting over whether she should take care of herself or not. Michelle was almost a legal adult in the eyes of the ministry and that meant she needed to take care of herself – to protect herself. Yet, if it hadn't been for Fred pulling her onto his broom, she surely would've been in detention for months, or at least the rest of term before Christmas holiday. Then her mind would turn to the point that if it weren't for Fred, she never would have been on the astronomy tower in the first place. She was so conflicted.

She fell asleep at night thinking about the way she curled into his lap, the way he smelled, the muscled contours of his chest and stomach. She remembered how his eyes sparkled even in the dark of the tunnel. And she fell asleep every night with the image of the smile he wore during their product testing. It was bright, something more than hopeful. It was proud, as if he wanted to show her the world. She really thought for a moment that he would if she let him. But she knew better than to put stock in a fleeting glance. It was nothing more than pride in his work and happiness at their success.

Michelle remembered, once in her fifth-year, having this same type of tug and pull within her mind before; she remembered it accompanied the same type of feelings she was currently experiencing. She and Hunter Jackson, another fifth-year Ravenclaw, had been studying together a lot in the first months of term. He had asked her for tutoring help for their OWLs. Knowing that she was so well prepared, she happily obliged. After spending many hours cramped together in a library quiet area, Michelle started to swoon over the simplest things he did. The way he wrote the word 'Charms' on his parchment, the way he held his quill, the way he would look at her over the top of his book, which he always had to have standing up as if it were a fort, all took her heart and ran away with it.

She thought Hunter really liked her too. He would hold doors open for her and sit with her at lunch after their early afternoon revising sessions. They even went to a Ravenclaw/Slytherin game together and he hugged her tight when Cho Chang caught the snitch. But two weeks later, Michelle saw Hunter in The Three Broomsticks during the Hogsmeade trip snogging Grace Powell. Her heart shattered there in the doorway, before she turned on her heel and stalked back to the castle. On her tearful walk back, she decided there was no use in getting attached to a boy while she was still in school. They were juvenile, silly, and inappropriate. They can't love me for me, at least not yet.

In learning to live with the fact that her "One True, Great Love" that her mother always talked about was not coming any time soon, she leaped into her studies. She wanted to be a success, someone important, when she finally met him. Michelle knew that Fred wasn't that guy. It was time to cut off all ties, like she had with Hunter.

Three days after The Three Broomsticks incident, they were supposed to meet for a tutoring session. Michelle left Hunter a note in their quiet room, something plain and simple.

Hunter,

I can no longer be your tutor. I have been neglecting

my own revising. I need to focus more. Maybe you can

ask Penny Booth or Megan Forester to help you revise

for the OWLs.

- Michelle

He never came to find her about it, so she assumed that everything was fine between them. A few days later, she saw Hunter and Grace snogging in the common room, their books spread out on a table in front of them. Michelle instantly thought that was no way to revise, which only furthered her belief that having a boyfriend at this age would ruin her future plans.

"Come on, Michelle, speak to me," Fred followed behind Michelle like a puppy.

Ignoring Fred was getting harder to do with each encounter. Michelle could just feel it, but she also knew that he was starting to get desperate. She wouldn't even look at him. He couldn't even figure out what exactly she was mad at him for. Was it George? Or the fact that I lied to her, tricked her, and forced her to stay in an uncomfortable and risky situation? Maybe because I took her out of her comfort zone? Or maybe it was because I stuck her on a broom and she didn't like flying? But there was no other way out and she seemed pretty comfortable curled up in his lap.

He still thought about that flight. With Angelina, he never had to take care of her that way. She was strong and fearless. She was going to go for what she wanted no matter what anyone said. Michelle needed a push and a little adventure. She needed someone to teach her how to have fun, how to be fun. But each time he got her to take two steps forward, she immediately took five steps backward. She was reverting in the worst possible way.

"Shell, please!" Fred begged in the third floor corridor by Charms.

"Stop calling me that!" Michelle turned toward him shouting. "We aren't mates, which means you don't get to give me a nickname."

"Ouch," he said grasping his chest.

"Oh, don't pretend as if you care, Weasley."

"I do care, Cartwright. I thought we were mates," Fred spit back at her just as venomous as she had been so far. "I like spending time with you, even if you always pick the strangest places to spend your time," he said gentler.

"You only want to be mates, so I can help you do illegal activities, like testing your damn joke products!"

"So, you think you're only good for a quick sneak up to the astronomy tower? You think so highly of yourself, Shell."

"I said, stop calling me that," Michelle spit through gritted teeth. "And that is the only time we've ever spent time together, except when I was hiding you in the library and when you took me to the kitchens."

"I'm sorry. If I knew it bothered you so much, I would have invited you out to the black lake for a stroll," Fred's eyebrows bounced, falling into his overly flirtatious ways.

"God, Fred, is every woman just someone to have sex with?! You can't just be mates with the opposite sex?"

"Well, I've never had the situation where that was possible," he shrugged.

"You're unbelievable."

"Thanks," he grinned.

He knew what she meant, but Fred didn't like honesty, when it meant putting his feelings on the line. Michelle certainly didn't seem interested in him, so why let himself get hurt in the process. All he was trying to do was apologize for whatever went wrong that night. One minute, they were holding hands and he was going to walk her to her common room. The next, she was stalking off, completely infuriated, with every intention to ignore him for days, maybe even weeks if this outburst hadn't happened. They would have gone home for the holiday and things would have been finished. They probably wouldn't have been mates at all after that.

Michelle's face reddened at Fred's comment. Why can't he have one serious conversation? Why can't he be an adult? She shook her head at the thought. She knew that Fred would never grow up. He would be a little kid for the rest of his life. Everything was a joke. She actually felt sorry for the girl who decided to settle down and have children with the man. The poor girl would have children and Fred to watch. She'd never have a second of peace. Michelle couldn't help but wonder if a girl who would be crazy enough to marry him, would ever really want peace, though. Certainly, she would have to enjoy a regular dose of insanity.

Definitely not for me. Once again, her mind was leading her in a direction she didn't even want to go. She never wanted to entertain the thought of being with Fred Weasley, with his ridiculous sense of humor, overly flirtatious ways, stupid cheeky grin, well-toned muscular chest, incredible blue eyes, sweet freckled nose… God, there it is again! Get this damn rubbish out of my mind!

"You alright there, Cartwright? You're looking a little hot under the collar. Thinking about me again?" Fred teased.

"NO!" Michelle shouted, a little too quickly and loudly, nervous again, that he could read her mind. "Why on Earth would you ever think that?!"

"Blimey, Cartwright, relax, it was a joke."

"And you know I don't find your jokes funny, especially not ones involving your dirty, sexual innuendos," Michelle countered, calming herself a little more with each second.

Silence gathered between the two. Fred wasn't sure what to say. He had been trying to get Michelle to forgive him all day and it seemed that he was only making it worse. He just couldn't hold his tongue for a few minutes, enough time to apologize and fix whatever the rift between them was. Their relationship was strange and different to say the least but Fred had grown to like it. It was like having his own personal Hermione, except without the overly bossy persona that drove everyone away, save Harry and Ron, not that anyone understood why they stuck around.

On top of her Hermione-like character, she was a puzzle that Fred just couldn't crack, like one of those rubix cubes that muggles love so much. When his dad brought one home, the family each tried to solve the multi-colored cube. When it was finally Fred's turn to take a stab at it, he found himself getting increasingly frustrated each time that he tried to align all of the colors. It generally ended with him frustrated and chucking the cube against a nearby wall. Like the rubix cube, none of Michelle's colored pieces ever lined up correctly. And he could only try so hard before he would get frustrated. He figured he would give it one last try, before he chucked this friendship against the wall and left it to collect dust, much like the rubix cube.

"Look, Michelle, I'm sorry for whatever bugged you last night. I know I shouldn't have used your good nature for something that could have gotten, not only me, but also you in trouble. I shouldn't have taken you flying without first telling you that was our escape route. George and I shouldn't have stood there fighting about you like that. And I shouldn't have let you walk away to Ravenclaw by yourself. I'm an awful mate for just watching you go."

Michelle could see the sincerity in his sparkling blue eyes. She didn't want to believe it; she wanted to continue to ignore him and forget that they were ever mates, which she still didn't believe that they truly were. Christmas holiday was coming up. If they were actually mates, they would exchange gifts, write each other letters, and regale each other with their winter fun when they came back to the castle for the new year. She couldn't really see Fred Weasley sitting down to write her a letter, or even picking out a present for her. If he did, surely, it would be something like a quill, because he didn't really know her at all. They would go away for the holidays, not speak, and when they got back to the castle, it would be as if the other never existed. They would graduate and years later not be able to remember the other's name.

But Michelle couldn't just walk away; she knew Fred wouldn't let her. Instead, she would just grin and bear it. Deal with him for the next few days before the holiday and then she wouldn't have to worry about him again.

"Fine, Fred."

"You accept my apology," he asked giddily.

"Well, it seems that I have to. Otherwise, you'll never let me go into the Great Hall and eat."

"That's not true," Fred shook his head. "I would just sit with you and your egghead buddies and then follow you up to Ravenclaw tower. And when you still wouldn't answer me, I would just bang on the wall, screaming your name until you did, or I fell asleep, whichever came first."

"You're persistence is amazing."

"Weasleys tend to get what they want."

"You know, you have a lot of sayings like that," she said, tilting her head slightly to the left, a tic she had when she was thinking. "'Weasleys always make grand entrances,' 'A Weasley's charm is irresistible,' and 'Weasleys always get what they want.' Got many more of those I can look forward to?"

"Of course!" Fred beamed. "You know what I just realized?"

"Hmmm?" Michelle asked wordlessly.

"You called me Fred," he stated matter-of-factly. "You never call me Fred; it's always Weasley," he said with a grin.

"Sorry, guess I wasn't thinking straight, Weasley. Won't happen again," Michelle chuckled, as Fred's smile faded.

It was then that he felt that sensation he had gotten so used to over the past few weeks. It was the call. His pulse raised a little higher, excited to once again break the rules. He pulled the coin out of his pocket and read the time etching itself into the metal. Michelle looked at him questioningly. He had just jumped a little, as if frightened or startled and pulled out a coin for nearly no reason. He examined it closely, then shoved it back into his pocket. Fred could see the questions in her eyes but knew it was best to ignore them. This was something he couldn't share.

"Well, I'm glad everything is okay between us again," Fred pulled her into a deep hug.

Michelle uncomfortably let him squeeze her tight. He had a good hold of her arms, so she couldn't exactly reciprocate. But that didn't stop her from breathing in his scent deeply. It was involuntary; she didn't even think about it. Fred did the same.

"I must be off," he said letting her go and quickly shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He rocked on his heels before turning and walking down the hall. "I'm sure I'll see you before holiday, though," he said as he turned slightly to wave goodbye.

Michelle waved meekly, before heading into the Great Hall for dinner.