AN: Sorry about the super late update guys - and the fail on responding to all of your really lovely reviews. You guys deserve better. I'm starting the next chapter & trying to keep the ball rolling, I swear.

Chapter Ten
Think Twice
Think twice before you touch my girl.

We apparated into the little two-bedroom flat that Angelia, Alicia and the twins shared. George had unceremoniously dumped Eric face-down on the floor. Fred was sprawled casually across the couch, studying his nails nonchalantly. He glanced up as we popped into existence.

"Angie? There's an unconscious bloke on our floor."

Angelina sighed and pocketed her wand.

"I'm aware, Fred. You brought him home."

"Nuh-uh. He followed me. Can we-"

"We can't keep him!"

"Why would I want to keep him? He looks like a drowned rat. Nasty temper, too, I've heard. D'you think he can breathe like that?" We all looked at Farrow, who, admittedly, did have his face squashed pretty thoroughly into the carpet.

I blinked. I suddenly felt a little woozy. The events of the past hours seemed to be slotting into line for the first time in my head, and nowhere along the way did I think they'd have ended here, with a bloody and recalcitrant Oliver slumped in George's overstuffed armchair, and a battered and unconscious Farrow splayed out on Angelina's favourite carpet.

"Oh, Georgie, you two were brilliant! I can't believe you got us all out of that!" Alicia leapt over Farrow's prone body to hug George, who grinned and picked her up, kissing her thoroughly. Fred turned to Angelina, one eyebrow raised.

"No thank-you kisses for the brilliant maneuvering?"

Angelina adopted the same expression.

"No rings for the damsel in distress?" she returned, wiggling her left hand at him.

My head snapped up.

"Excuse me?"

Fred's expression dropped immediately. Angelina laughed and, ignoring my bewilderment, crossed to Fred, now looking at the floor grumpily. She laid a hand on his arm, giggling even more, and tried to catch his eye.

"I was kidding, Fred. Fred? Freeeeed. Sweetheart. Honey. Freddy." She was worming her way into his crossed arms, grinning, until his stony expression finally broke and he pulled her closer.

"I… guys? Hello?" George and Alicia were still snogging in the corner, and now Fred and Angelina were making up (and out), even while Farrow slid with a nasty muffled squelch further out on the floor. It was positively surreal. I'd never seen Angelina act quite so… girly, for lack of a better word. It was unnerving. And Alicia – were they…? I exchanged glances with an equally perplexed Oliver, who'd finally had the good grace to look up from his crumpled pose.

"Guys."

No response.

"Guys."

Nothing.

"Fred. George. Alicia. Angelina. Weasley. Johnson. Spinnet. People. HELLO."

Continued kissing.

"OI. GUYS. ERIC'S UNCONCIOUS AND OLIVER'S BLEEDING. I'M MISSING FROM ST. MUNGO'S AND THIS NIGHT IS INSANE AND ALICIA IS POSSIBLY ENGAGED. I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON AND IF YOU DON'T STOP BLOODY KISSING EACHOTHER RIGHT FUCKING NOW I WILL PERSONALLY RIP YOUR EARS OFF-"

"Low blow, Kates."

"SHUT IT, GEORGE."

Ah.

I stopped shouting. George still had an arm around Alicia's waist, but they were both watching me amusedly. Angelina and Fred had at least paused long enough to glare at me, before slowly disentangling themselves.

"Right. Um, so. Alicia?"

She grinned.

"I was going to tell you once you were out of the hospital and could properly celebrate but now…" she reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring. "I guess I can wear this all the time!"

I stared, flabbergasted.

"When?" I choked out.

"Just yesterday!" she beamed. "George knew I was so worried about you and he just… he just said he couldn't wait! That we never knew what life held and we'd never get anywhere just waiting around for the best moment!"

George was stoic enough not to blush, but simply nodded (although, I noticed, pointedly not looking at Fred).

"You're engaged?"

"I'm engaged!"

"Oh my god!"

"I know!"

"AHHHH!"

It was a smother-with-love kind of moment; it definitely warranted all of the girly squealing and wild hugging. I also may have trodden on Farrow a few times, although that was probably entirely coincidental.

After a good fifteen minutes of congratulating, in which Oliver and I celebrated our being back in the loop, we all collapsed onto the couch, still giggly from Alicia's ecstatic news.

"So," Fred began, wrapping an arm around Angelina. "As much as I fancy a nice bit of statuary, I'd rather he left our carpet. What's the plan?"

"First, Katie needs to go back to St. Mungo's." Oliver's voice, croaky and exhausted-sounding came out of nowhere.

"What? No – I'm fine. Let's figure out Farr-"

"You're not fine. You're supposed to be recovering. You're not even supposed to be out of bed."

"I would be in bed if it weren't for you needing to be all macho-"

"It wasn't like that-"

"Yes, it was! And while I appreciate the sentiment, Oliver, I don't need anyone to protect my honor, or – or –"

"You deserve it! You deserve to have someone stand up for you when you can't!"

"No! Not when it means you'll go and get yourself arrested or something equally awful-"

We were twins in anger, Oliver and I, fists clenched, standing nose-to-nose in the middle of the sitting room.

"It needed to be done!"

"IT DIDN'T! I NEVER SAID I WANTED-"

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO. I WANTED TO!"

Something flickered in Oliver's eyes, and for the second time that night I realized how very big he was. How very male. He wasn't a gawky teen anymore; he wasn't a kid. He was tall and strong, and yes, charming and funny and awkward and sweet, but also, I was starting to realize, a guy. With testosterone and fists, and the sort of macho anger I didn't really comprehend at all.

"I wanted to hurt him, Kat. I needed to." His voice was almost apologetic in it's softness. "I needed it."

I looked down awkwardly.

"I-" I blinked and swallowed. "I…"

I looked up at him again, his eyes no longer foreign, but wide and concerned. I spoke my next words very carefully.

"I think the room is spinning."

And strong arms caught me as I fell over.

xoxox

Oliver delivered me back to room, causing – or so I heard the next day – quite a stir as he strode, still bleeding, through St. Mungo's with an unconscious girl in his arms. I remember waking briefly to catch at his retreating arm, before he squeezed my hand and the healers put me back under.

I woke this morning blearily, glancing around for Oliver's familiar form, and only really waking up when I realized he wasn't there.

I sat up.

"Ow." So, maybe I overdid it a little last night. My head gave another pang.

Okay, a lot. Pain meds. Mmm. Delicious.

That doesn't sound healthy. That doesn't sound healthy at all. Oh well.

I downed the potion. They wouldn't leave it on my bedside table if I didn't need it, anyways. Along with – what?

I frowned at the table. Along with the normal plethora of potions left for my convenience there was a neatly folded copy of the Daily Prophet, with a handwritten note on top.

Katie –

Sorry I couldn't stay. You were right yesterday – I did need to take a break. The healers said I needed to go get cleaned up anyways. I smelled a bit like booze. Anyways, you might enjoy this. We certainly did.

Much love,

Oliver

I smiled and picked up the paper. And burst out laughing. The most beautiful photograph I had ever seen was plastered across the front cover. Eric Farrow, passed out, wearing a sparkly fringed dress (that looked strangely similar to a dress Angelina had gotten from her mother last year, with a wail of "What? Mother, whyyyy?") and a pom-pomed party hat, perched precariously on top of the Ministry of Magic's centaur statue in the newly reconstructed Fountain of Magical Brethren. The article was equally fantastic, including a befuddled article with the – magically amnesiac – man himself, babbling confusedly about he could have possibly ended up on the horse, with the ministry and – I grinned – a promise from Coach Bard himself to investigate his player thoroughly. There was even a vague allegation, I noticed, near the end about Farrow's possible involvement with a recent Quidditch accident involving a young, unnamed Hogwarts graduate. I picked up my wand and, as carefully as I could while laughing, I cut out the picture and plastered it to the wall.

Best. Morning. Ever.

xoxox

"Fred!"

"Hey there, love. I come bearing baked goods from the girls."

He held up a plate of cookies with a smile.

"Alone?"

He shrugged a little.

"Yeah, well – George and Alicia…"

"Needed to get out of the house a bit?"

He smiled weakly.

"Something like that."

"Oliver left the paper here." I gestured at the clipping on the wall. "I recognized your handiwork, I believe."

Fred gave a proper grin at that.

"A gentleman never tells." He peered closer at the photograph. "God, that really is brilliant. I almost wish I could claim credit. But it's so bloody worth it. It really is."

I smiled.

"You're really the best friend a girl could ask for. I mean it."

"Oh, I try." He answer airily, sitting down.

"So," I sat up a little to get a better look at him. "As much as I love unexpected visits – particularly ones from excellent ginger twins bearing cookies – I get the strangest feeling there's another motive here."

Fred laughed a little. "Honestly? I thought you might want to talk about Oliver."

"Oh? Why?"

"Katie. He beat the crap out a guy that hurt you. Admirable – yes, but we all saw that fight in the – well, in my sitting room. And I saw your face."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Katie. Come one. I know you."

"What did he mean, Fred?" I sighed. "I just – why? I don't think I understand."

"I thought so." Fred chuckled, "Some guys - and, alas, Oliver is one of these ham-fisted gents - are somewhat terrible at expressing their feelings. Instead of resorting to delicate and nuanced acts like certain dashing pranksters I might name-"

"Fred."

He caught my expression and sobered a little.

"Oliver's terrible at emotions. He's got a lot of things he can't really express, but Quidditch has made him a pretty... physical person, I suppose? I think he needed a punching bag that he wouldn't feel bad about, and Farrow was just the ticket."

"But, I mean, it's not like I asked him or…"

Fred frowned a little. "Well, Oliver's not your lapdog. I mean, he does do things for his own purposes, you know."

"Oh, that's not what I… that sounded really bad, didn't it?"

"A bit."

"I just… I guess I don't understand. It was just a release, I guess? But what did he need to… to express?"
Fred's face clouded.

"A lot of things, I think. Fears and, and just… things. I don't know. He plays his cards close, Oliver does. Guys tend to."

He smiled suddenly, and grabbed the plate of cookies.

"You should have some of these. Angelina rarely ever does sweets, but when she does – and don't tell either of them that I've said this – they rival my mum's."

"I won't tell. Thanks, Fred. Are you-"

"I should go. I promised I'd only be out a little while, so…."

"Yeah. Thanks so much for coming by, Fred. I miss our one-on-ones."

"Me too, Squirt." He paused, and then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

"I'll see you soon, Bell." He ruffled my hair for good measure, and then turned to the door.

"Fred," I couldn't stop myself. There was something so sad in his walk.

"Yeah?" he turned, still smiling.

"Why haven't you proposed to Angelina yet?"
"That obvious?" his half-smile dropped.

"I just… know you."

"I've been… not putting it off, just… I just…. wanted it to be perfect. That's really girly, isn't it?"

"No. It's sweet."

"Ha. Well, George just came out of nowhere and… I don't want her to think I'm afraid or that I don't love her. Cause I… I love her so much, Kat. I really do. And I'm afraid of losing her. But I don't want to just propose because of that… I… I don't know. I don't think I've ever been so afraid of anything. But I just haven't thought it's… right."

"And you're losing George, too, aren't you?"

"It's weird. I just…. I don't know. Everything's changing, it feels like."

"C'mere. Give your old chaser a hug." He ambled over, a sad puppy look trickling down his face. "I know you'll make a beautiful, hilarious, perfect proposal, Fred. And I also know that Angie loves you just as much as you love her. And she'd never leave you for something as stupid as not proposing to her before your brother. And I wouldn't tell her any of this in a million billion years." I kissed his forehead. "Now go home and hug your girlfriend and make ridiculous prank items and make sure my flatmate hasn't gone off and punched the daylights out of anyone else. Okay?"

"Okay." He smiled ruefully and turned again to the door.

"Oh, and Fred?"
"Yeah?"

"I love you."
"I love you too."

Think Twice - Eve 6