"Fred," a voice groaned, drifting into my subconscious and whirling through my brain. I grunted, only to be shaken this time. It was freezing this morning, noting that it was far too early for me to be up.

"Freddy…you need to get up," they persisted.

"G'way," I grumbled, burying myself under the covers and squeezing my eyes tighter.

"You really need to see something."

Slowly I peeled my eyes open, blinking rapidly against the sunlight streaming across my face and eliciting what was probably some sort of hiss. The room was relatively empty, as it always is after a party. People end up crashing in each others' Houses or the commons. The truly responsible people are the ones that make it back to their proper beds. Guess I was one of those last night. I barely registered Ryan and Carrie cuddled up in the bed next to me before eyeing Kelly sitting cross legged at the foot of my bed.

"It's early Kel," I groaned, attempting to shut my eyes again. "Let's just sleep for a bit longer, eh?"

"Fred!" Kelly persisted as she flopped down so she was lying next to me and began patting me on the cheek. "I just went to go change into actual pajamas and you'll never guess who Callen picked up last night."

"I could care less whom Cal's pick of the week is, Pixie. I'm tired," I whined, going to tug the blankets over my face.

"No, you care. Trust me, you care," she breathed, pulling the covers down and peering at me. I furrowed my brow, brushing the sleep cobwebs away and attempting to go through a mental list of who I saw Callen with last night.

After Adder's departure the party was shocked silent for about two minutes before everything picked back up again. Sage ended up losing her stomach contents and Paxton carted her away to heal her. And Kelly and I spent the night together, not necessarily speaking.

As I wracked my brain for sufficient information, there was a small part of my mind that contemplated just what I got into with Kelly. She was one of my closest mates. One I could depend on for anything. I could count the amount of people that happens with on one hand. Lou, James, Dominique, Ryan and Kelly. And my Dad, but that doesn't count. I was afraid to really try with her because I didn't know if I could give to her what she wanted from me. It's become obvious to me that our drunken hook-ups had to mean something. What exactly that something was, I didn't know. I don't like not knowing what I was getting into.

"You're not even thinking about Callen are you?" Kelly questioned quietly. "You're thinking about this."

"How do you always know what I'm thinking Pix?" I sighed, brushing the back of my hand over her cheek.

"Fredrick Weasley, what girl do you always go to for female-type advice?"

"Dominique," I laughed. Kelly rolled her eyes and settled further so she could rest her head in the crook of my neck.

"When you didn't want 'blunt bollocks busting' advice," she replied, lowering her voice an octave when she repeated my own words.

"You," I relented with a small smile.

"That's how I know. That and you were looking at me like you would a new prank write-up. With a confused Neanderthal expression," she giggled.

"I do not have Neanderthal-ish expressions!"

"Fred—we're diverging from the point and since I'm actually attempting to get you out of this bed that's not very good. Now go ahead. Give me all your fears about what happened between us last night," Kelly remarked, rolling over and looking straight at the ceiling.

"I'm afraid of hurting you, Kel. We both know I don't last long on the relationship front. I don't want you to hate me," I admitted in one big breath. Kelly giggled slightly before turning her head to look at me in the eyes.

"I couldn't hate you Fred. Ever. If this doesn't work out I know it won't be out of you not liking me but because we weren't meant to be. I'm sensible—I don't hate my ex-beaus. Never have, never will," she concluded, reaching down and grabbing my hand under the covers. "Just don't ever hate me, yeah?"

"I could never hate you. I don't have a lot of people on that list and I guarantee you will never come close to getting on it," I declared, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on her temple.

"Good—because 'us' had to happen one of these days, especially with the rate you go through girls. I'm just glad it's happening when we're both mature enough to handle the repercussions," she announced through a small snort of laughter.

"Why the bloody hell are you not in Ravenclaw?" I questioned, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her to me.

"Because I'm not afraid of anything," she answered with a small shrug. "Now don't get too comfortable. You really need to go downstairs."

"What's down there that can't wait until later?" I questioned, already feeling myself go back to sleep.

"I told you what was. If you weren't so daft you'd probably have figured it out by now. Now, up!" She commanded, slipping out of bed and pulling on my arm. With an almighty groan, I allowed her to heft me to my feet and towards the common room door.

"I really don't want to put together another girl that Callen's destroyed," I complained, starting for the stairs and starting slightly at the chill that rose from the stone.

"He hasn't destroyed anything yet. But Fred—just don't flip your broomstick too hard. He's Callen and well she's—she's old enough to know what she's doing," Kelly sighed, stopping me just before the mouth to the Common Room. I paused and really looked at Kelly's face. It was set with determination and worry, her short hair mused up from where she kept tugging on the short ends with her fingers. And it dawned on me.

"I'll kill him," I growled, pushing past Kelly and stalking towards the circle of couches and arm chairs.

"Fred!" Kelly hissed, following close behind. "That's not necessary. He probably did it because you put it into his head yesterday. Dominique told me you threatened him and you know that gets him all riled up."

"She's fifteen! We both know exactly what he's after," I growled, whirling on her. Kelly didn't even shrink away from my fury and she hasn't ever really seen it before. I don't get angry often—I usually take everything in strides. But when I do get upset—all hell breaks loose. Kelly didn't flinch or anything. She just looked a bit weary.

"Fred—you have to let her grow up sometimes. I'm not saying that that needs to happen but she's going to do what she wants. No matter what you tell her. She's just as stubborn as you are, maybe even more. She knows how to say no," Kelly sighed, standing protectively in front of one of the couches.

"Why'd you even tell me if you were going to try and stop me?" I snapped.

"Because you had a right to know for yourself and not through the rumor mill," Kelly replied, leveling herself and staring up at me with a fierce look in her eyes. "I didn't think you would get this upset."

"Move aside, Pixie. I'll let her grow up with anyone beside Callen. She can do better," I growled. We stood like this for a moment—in a complete standoff before Kelly's shoulders slumped slightly and she stalked off towards the girl's staircase without another word. Looking over the back of the couch only made me more upset. Callen was cradling my little sister and almost smothering her with his size. He was shirtless and Roxy was only in jean shorts and her bathing suit top. I reached in my pocket only to curse myself—she nicked my wand! Stalking over to the other side I snatched Callen's from off the ground and pointed it at his face. It felt foreign—like the normal extension of my hand was replaced with something fake. But I muttered the spell and the clear jet of water spouted from the end, splashing him in the face. Callen awoke with a loud grunt, rolling spastically onto the floor at my feet.

"Am I late for class?!" He spluttered, sitting up and wiping the water from his eyes. He slowly took in surroundings, his eyes lingering on the sofa before looking up at me. A lazy smile spread across his face.

"Quite a party last night, eh?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows slightly and eyeing Roxy again. I kicked him in the thigh. "Oi! What the hell was that for?!"

"Roxanne! WAKE UP!" I snapped, unable to control my temper or volume. Roxy woke up with a jolt and a small scream, looking around her wildly and clutching her wand. Finally her eyes settled on me and she flopped back onto the couch.

"I'll just go up in a bit, Fred. Let us sleep in a bit longer, yeah?" she yawned.

"DO YOU TWO HONESTLY EXPECT ME NOT TO SAY ANYTHING?! DO YOU REALLY THINK THIS IS OKAY!?" I exploded, sick of the nonchalance of it all.

"Fred—I will sleep with who I please," Roxy groaned. I felt my stomach drop out of my arse at that. "Oh will you put your eyes back in your head? I don't mean like that—I mean how you saw."

"I don't want you doing anything with him, let alone sleeping!" I shot back.

"Is that my wand?" Callen questioned suddenly. I shot him a quelling glare before turning back to Roxy. She was standing now, glaring up at me with her hands on her hips.

"I repeat, I will do what I please with who I please," she snapped.

"Do you know what he does to girls? You've heard the stories Roxy, don't be daft! Do you want to be another bloody notch on his bedpost?" I groaned, clutching my hair in frustration.

"Oi! Who says she's a notch?" Callen grumbled, standing up and looking rather imposing. "Maybe I like her, mate! Maybe it's finally a Weasley that tames the beast!"

Roxy and I both looked at him. Me with a dumbfounded expression, Roxy with shining eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," I finally managed to get out.

"What—is that so impossible?" Roxy shot back. "That I'm worth it to a guy?"

"It's a load of bollocks!"

"So no guy could ever find me worth a relationship? Is that what you're saying, Fred?"

"I didn't say that! He doesn't find you worth a relationship."

There were a few groans behind me causing me to turn around in bewilderment. Crowded at the foot of both of the stairs was most of the house. They were eyeing the three of us like we were the Quidditch World Cup and front and center of the girl's staircase was the last person I wanted to see, especially after last night. Adder had her arms crossed as she leaned casually against the archway. She had cleaned up after her unintentional mud bath last night, her bright hair pulled up on top of her head—a worn leather book tucked under her arm and a few pencils tucked into her hair tie. Her eyes were alight with amusement and a small smirk was playing along her lips. She looked positively entertained.

"If you do this—I'll write Mum and Dad," I concluded finally.

"I'll do you one better, Fredrick," Roxy snapped, "I'll write them myself. Tell them I've met a really great guy. Tell them you're being an overprotective bastard and they needn't worry. Stay out of it Fred. I'm a big girl, I don't need your protection nor do I want it. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to sleep in a real bed for a few hours."

She snatched her jumper from the folds of the cushions, stuffed her wand into her short pockets, and stalked over to Callen. Putting her hands on his shoulders she pulled him down into a very evident and elaborate kiss before giving me a triumphant look and storming off. For the first time in my life I was shocked to complete silence.


Adder


Note that I truly enjoy a good screaming match when it doesn't directly involve me, but to be completely and painstakingly honest this particular one I didn't enjoy all that much. Coming downstairs to see a bed-ragged, pajama pant clad Weasley have it out with his mate and younger sister wasn't something that I envisioned myself encountering. It was the single most pathetic fight I have ever come across. I've dealt with many protective older siblings in my time. Once upon a time (a long time ago) it was myself and slowly they started coming after me. Boys whose younger sisters I wasn't exactly nice to, boys who older sisters had problems with me. They've threatened and yelled and treated me in a way I most certainly didn't deserve. But this was painful because never have I seen the younger sibling fight back.

They usually feel pretty special that someone was out there looking after them; but this chick, she wasn't taking shit. She just threw it all back at Weasley and then shoved it in his face. As much as it was nice to see him get put in his place somewhat—it didn't feel necessarily heartwarming at all. I think everyone was a bit upset with what was going down. They were certainly taking sides. There were some younger girls behind me taking bets on who would get hit first; Callen by Fred or Fred by mini-Weasley.

There was a single moment when our eyes met (after he made a particularly bad error by mouth) where he just seemed kinda defeated. A human feeling bloomed in me then, a slight feeling of empathy. I felt bad for him. Bad enough to lie off of making his life a bit of hell? Probably not. I was still trying to get out of here after all.

As the crowd dispersed and Fred's wide-shoulder friend (when did he get here?) toted him away, I pushed through the Portrait Hole and wandered aimlessly down the hall. Last night came rushing back to me. I had gotten a tad drunk, went after my plan by making out with Paxton, and ended up getting almost suffocated by mud. I knew she was going to snap in some way, anyone could see it, but I didn't know she would actually try to kill me. It ended well though, in retrospect. Everyone knew not to mess with me. To leave me alone because I wanted them to hate me. I wanted to be hated.

The thought bloomed in my head last night and resurfaced again this morning. It was easier for people to hate me. So much easier. But strangely, I felt lonely. Really lonely. It was a confusing feeling. Not wanting people to like you but feeling lonely about it all the same. Head vs. Thoughts. Thoughts vs. Heart. Heart vs. Head again. A vicious cycle that I've been wrestling with for years. The unhappiness that constantly overwhelmed me was beginning to wear me out. I could feel myself becoming unraveled at the edges. Sooner or later I was going to come apart completely and who knows what I'll do then? Go on some rapid killing rampage or just damage myself further? Most likely the latter, honestly.

Becoming unraveled would end up letting people in too easily. I would say things that eluded to the real me. I couldn't let people see that. My only saving grace was that nobody saw the real me. That I actually closed myself off to the world. Once people were let in, it was too late and I was vulnerable. Completely and utterly vulnerable. I needed to shape up. Harden myself to the outside elements. I wondered precisely what made me start to slip up. Was it coming here? Not having my home or father's title to fall back on and make easier to rebel? That made me laugh slightly. The one thing I've come to resent completely, besides myself, was my father's title. It was one of the main things I strengthened myself to fight against and could it be the very thing making me lose my edge?

I acutely registered the fact that I was beginning to pace instead of move forward. Back and forth, back and forth in a constant pattern that I'm sure would ground a rivet in the stone if I was strong enough. All I wanted was some private place where I couldn't be bothered. Where I could sit and draw for hours without anyone finding me. Because that's what I truly needed to do—draw. It was the only possible way to stitch myself up enough to deal with other people around me. If I contained it within the pages of my sketch book it couldn't be released into the world.

Suddenly something caught the corner of my eye. A single door had bloomed in the expanse of a blank wall. Blinking at it, I allowed myself to marvel at the castle. It honestly was something—full of secrets and tricks just like the humans contained in its walls. I don't know what caused me to do it, because in the two weeks I've been here I've learned not to open doors that I don't know what is behind them. I've encountered that stupid little poltergeist one too many times (while mildly entertaining when he's not targeting me, him pretending the color of my hair blinds him to the point where he constantly runs into my head was getting old fast). But when the door was fully opened I was even more confused.

The room must be a dream. There is no way this castle would hold items of this nature. Every type of painting supply that I would ever need was occupying the small room. An easel was set up in front of a window the size of one of the four walls. It gave a vast and perfect view of the grounds and my fingers twitched at the thought of capturing it. Shelves built into the walls held canvases, paints, brushes, pencils, anything I would ever need. Every medium, magical and non-magical alike. Slowly I turned in place, taking it all in. The other three walls that weren't occupied by shelves were completely filled with pictures with empty backgrounds. A few heads peeked in from the side of the frames, identical surprised looks upon their faces.

"This is new," a lady with an elaborate braided hair-do stated simply. She plopped down in a frame containing a field of flowers and pulled out a ball of yarn and knitting needles from the folds of her voluminous skirts. "The Room has outdone itself, Pritchard."

"It certainly has," a man in a completely different medium agreed. He joined her in her frame, his harsh lines looking put out against the soft background, and looked at me with a cocked head. "State your name."

"Excuse me," I choked out, still in slight shock at the amount of items at my disposal.

"We would like to know who created this version of the room. It rarely puts portraits for us to explore on its walls," the man called Pritchard ordered from behind his ruffled collar. "State your name."

"Usually I treat portraits with respect because you're works of art that demand so, but I won't be spoken to like that," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You'll have to excuse him. It's his era," the woman sighed, looking up from her knitting but not stopping the constant clicking of the needles. "I am Miss Fey, a depiction of the muggle mother of a past professor. That is Sir Prichard, a portrait of an old, grumpy, beneficiary. And you are?"

"I'm Adder," I shrugged, folding myself into the squashy arm chair.

"You don't seem very happy," Miss Fey commented. "I wish I could knit you a jumper. Jumpers make everything better."

"I don't think a simple sweater could cure my soul, Fey," I admitted, cracking open my sketch book and flipping to a fresh page. I began to roughly draw out some of the flowers we worked with in Herbology the other day now that I actually could get my hands on the colors to bring them to life.

"Your soul is maimed?!" Pritchard questioned with a large gasp.

"It's certainly not very pleasant," I admitted. A part of me felt ashamed I was talking to them. It was doing the very thing I was trying to prevent—sharing myself with someone else. But I've always had a soft spot for portraits. Nothing that beautiful and that perfect could be bad to me, so I relented and lifted a part of weight that has been bearing down on me.

"You seem more wary then when I last saw you young maiden."

I looked up and felt a small smile form on my lips. It was the monk that helped me the first day of classes.

"I never got your name," I admitted, my pencil hovering over the paper.

"Father Corkrin at your service," he announced with a small bow. "Now what is troubling thee?"

"Life I suppose. I'm not a very nice person to begin with. But now that I've found this room I think I'll be a bit better until I get out of this god-forsaken castle," I grumbled, accidentally snapping my pencil. With a put out sigh I took my wand and repaired it with a quick flick.

"Are you not happy here?" Miss Fey questioned quietly. I stopped drawing and looked up at the three people clustered within one frame.

"I'm not happy anywhere."


Fred


"I'm sorry."

Kelly looked up from the pile of books she surrounded herself with and frowned slightly.

"For what?"

"For getting upset with you this morning," I shrugged, pulling out the chair next to her and plopping down in it. Kelly smiled slightly and angled herself so she was facing me, our knees just brushing together.

"Don't be. I underestimated how angry you would be and figured you wouldn't want me there," she announced, leaning back in her chair.

"She's my baby sister," I shrugged. "I may act like she's the ultimate thorn in my side but while we're here it's my job to protect her. Like Teddy did Victorie, like James worships Lily, like I even worry about Dominique. We're family; it's our job to look out for each other."

"Fred, why are you friends with Callen if you hate him that much?" Kelly groaned, leaning forward and capturing my cheeks in her hands.

"History? Because it wouldn't be conducive to hate someone that sleeps in the same room as you eight months of the year. Because I don't truly hate anyone," I admitted. "I just don't trust him with her."

"I know it sucks bollocks to watch your kid sister get involved with someone, especially someone like Callen, but you have to let her make her own mistakes. The best thing you can do is be there to pick up the pieces," Kelly announced. I worried my bottom lip between my teeth for a few seconds before letting out a small sigh.

"Ryan said the same thing before he left."

"Ryan's the smart one out of you two," Kelly laughed. Grinning slightly I nudged my knee against hers.

"Why do I put up with you? You're so mean to me."

"Because you love me and I'm a good snog," she answered seriously, repeating the words I said to her on the first day back to classes.

"That's only when we're drunk!" I mocked, heightening my voice so it was all squeaky.

"Do I honestly sound like I'm on Helium Hocks?" she frowned.

"Yes," I answered seriously, grinning as she leaned in and kissed me lightly. I pulled away and pushed a smile on my face. This was Kelly. She's fit. She gets me. It was nice snogging her a few times a year. I should want to try it further. I should enjoy kissing her as my girlfriend and not a hook up. I want this. This is a good experiment.

Everyone I encountered today has said something along the lines of expecting this to happen, even though I don't exactly know how they found out already. The only people who reacted queerly were Ryan and Dominique. They seemed slightly put out but accepted it. This has been building up to happen for ages. And I believe it. Grabbing Kelly around her tiny waist, I hoisted her into my lap and pressed my lips against hers. I believe it.

And as I closed my eyes, pictures burst behind them that didn't necessarily fit in the puzzle that was building around me. The pictures showed fiery and hot before settling somewhere deep in my stomach. It was somewhat different than I expected would come along with Kelly. Kelly usually was soft and feminine but electric. That's a thought that comes with Kelly—electric, not so much fire. I suppose that things are different when put in this situation. So I'll take it as that. Different. We're trying something different.


A/A: OHMYMERLIN! You get three chapters in three days?! I've actually found myself getting back on track in this story. I know exactly (somewhat) how each chapter is going to go. That's exciting and there's some really FANTASTIC scenes circling my brain.

But it's also the time in the story where I'm like 'What the eff is this shit that I'm writing?'. I don't know if I should've revealed the slight vulnerability to Adder just yet, but the story kinda did it on its own. And Fred, while amazing in my mind, is changing in the story from his original character. I'm not quite sure if it's development or just bad on my part. I want to believe it's development but there's that niggling doubt that sucks. Often I write and then realized that it's not what I intended to be, but kinda wrote itself. I don't know, maybe this story isn't as good as I envisioned in my mind. Tell me what you think so I feel better? I really like it because it's very different from my other stories—but I'm not sure about it overall.

Forever yours magically,

Emily