K15: I've spoiled you all… here's a second chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But I do own Pamela.

Dedication: To my boyfriend, Kent. Because without his help I wouldn't have been able to write this much or the cute little scene's with Pamela and Fred.

Other dedication: To my good friend, Jessika--may she rest in peace.


Fred walked up the stairs to the second floor of the old, falling apart building. He glanced at the numbers and studied the people who were walking around wearing skirts and looking nice. Raising a hand to the door to the number 208, he knocked slowly and softly. Then, moving his arm up against the doorframe rested his head and thought about the fight with Hermione.

She had no reason to bring up painful memories of their past relationship. There were bigger things at hand now. He had to protect this American witch he was starting to fall for. Her big blue eyes held happiness every time he looked at them, and she didn't let much get her down. She was almost too perfect to be true, but even Fred knew of Pamela's flaws.

For instance, she didn't have a wand of her own. Her parents were not very supportive of her going out to Salem for schooling, let alone doing magic whenever able to. He could only imagine what they would say when they met the Weasley twin. He knew he wasn't the type he'd want his daughter to bring home one night. But he knew Pamela didn't care what others thought.

Squinting his eyes together, he knocked again, this time a little louder. Once again there was no answer, so he gave the doorknob a twist. Normally, he would had just gone down the hall to see if anyone else was around—and if they had saw Pamela. The door swung open and there was Pamela at her desk. Her notebook was out and she was scribbling quickly.

Fred walked over around what was on the floor. His eyes landed on a dozen and a half ice cream containers. Shaking his head, his large hand rested on her shoulder. She jumped and took out her earplugs. She then reached for her small white music player and turned it off.

"Fred? I thought you were spending all day at the shop?" she questioned in surprised.

Sitting across from her, he shook his head again. "No, Hermione decided to bring up old memories that weren't wanted. It made me once again feel like a prat."

Pamela shuffled around, pushing her blonde hair out of her face. Fred fell back on the back and took in a deep breath. The white ceiling needed to be repainted as it looked like paint chunks were falling off. Again there was shuffling around and she walked around, kneeling on the ground.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just needed to get away from her. She thinks she so great!"

"Even Hermione can open her mouth without thinking sometimes," came Pamela's reply. "You just have to know when to walk away and forget about what she is saying."

"Like you did with Kiva?"

"That's a different story." She crossed her arms and pouted, leaning against her roommate's bed. "But I'm getting better, we had a fight, and I told her off. I haven't spoken to her in a few days."

"You're better off without her."

A smile crossed her face as she took Fred's hand into hers. She rubbed his pale knuckles and occasionally brought it up to her face to nuzzle it. He enjoyed the light touch of her fingers, as they seemed to dance across the tips of his. His blue-green eyes glanced at the window that had orange splotches all over it.

"Chelsea's boyfriend's doing. Scared the crap out of me earlier when they needed to be let in," Pamela confirmed. She flipped over his hand and began to trace the lines on his palms.

This was what Fred needed, some time alone with her. His thoughts were beginning to float away from Hermione and focus on the here and now. He almost had forgotten the real reason why he came.

"What can you tell me about this Light." She shrugged. Raising and eyebrow, Fred questioned further and deeper, "Pamela, what I need to know is why Chase needs you for this Light thing."

She took in a deep breath, held it before letting it go slowly. "It's complicated." Her hand left his as she walked over to her desk. Standing on the chair, she reached up to a thick orange book. "I had discovered it by accident when I was a fifth year."

"Hmm?" He sat up as she sat next to him. She opened the book and flipped through the pages as a small little light bobbed in front of them. "A memory?" he guessed.

"No, this is the picture of the Light. Like most things dealing with power it is sealed inside a human soul," Pamela began to explain. "It requires a lot of energy to contain something this powerful. The power that can bring people back from the dead, the power of the Gods."

"Sweet Merlin."

"According to lore and myth, the Gods had entrusted the Ancients (wizards at the beginning of time) the protecting the gates from the Earth to the Netherworld and Heaven, or what is more commonly referred to as the Spirit World. They were granted any power, as long as they kept the mortals away from these gates.

"The powers that the Ancients were granted were good, used for healing—on the rare occasion the power of forgetting—growing food, and creating fire to keep warm on those dark and cold nights. But that didn't mean all of the Ancients were good. They were immortal, and saw life die and be reborn before their eyes. It was finally the god of Death that got to them.

"Hades (one of his many names) walked through the gates and began to show the Ancients what their powers could really do. The evil, the darkness, bringing destruction to everything in its path created the Dark Arts. But the Ancients showed no fear. They told Hades that they were guardians and that they could not be swayed by the promises of riches and women and men. But the Lord of the Dead would not hear to such nonsense. He promised that he would be back.

"And soon he was, the very next day. Again the Ancients were not swayed by his promises of glory or fame or power. But Hades was very persistent. He kept coming, even though he was defied. On the seventh week, a young woman came out. She was beautiful; she had long beautiful golden hair and piercing blue eyes and walked with grace. Her name was unrecorded, but is often referred to the Angel of Death.

"Walking up to the leader of the Ancients she spoke softly and calmly, I have come to negotiate power between the guardians of the Gate and the Lord of the Dead. The head Ancient told her what they had been telling Hades for the past two months. She was not swayed as easily; she offered something that everyone there had wished. If you were to take Lord Hades' offer then you would be able to survive with your powers intact and start a family. You would be able to raise young children and teach them the ways of the old," Pamela paused and took in a deep breath.

"Is that it?"

"Far from it actually," she replied. Her blue eyes were staring off into space. "The Ancients pondered this for a moment and the youngest of them spoke up, if we were to leave the gates we would become mortal. The Angel of Death replied quickly, No, there is the promise of immortality with your newly gain powers. The fifteen of the Ancients looked at each other. When they looked back up the Angel of Death was gone without so much of a trace.

"The next day, Hades showed up, but this time he was not alone. He had brought the Angel of Death with him. He offered them the powers to create and destroy with a flick of their wrists. They could control elements that they could never even begin to imagine. And then the Ancients agreed, they agreed full heartedly with what Hades had often. The only catch though was they were to give away part of their magic to make sure that the gates were sealed," she continued on.

"You can't tell me that they actually did that, how stupid could the Ancients get?" Fred interrupted.

Pamela waved the boy off and continued on, "The fifteen of the Ancients stood in a circle with the Angel of Death in the middle. Life is given as it is taken away. From ashes rise the phoenix of the world and from the fires it has it is destroyed. When the Phoenix rises again may this power shake and destroy all evil. She then took a white light away from each of the members. They fell to the ground and felt weaker. In her hand was a small ball of Light. Their power to create and give life to any living or dead thing. As promised these Ancients were able to have glory and fame, but they also destroyed and killed. The Dark Arts as it is known as today. But Zeus found out about his brother's betrayal.

"The two faced off in a huge clash that rattled the Earth, the Spirit World, and the Netherworld. In the end, Hades lost his powers and the ball of Light. The light was then placed into the hands of the Gods. They took it and sealed it deep inside a mortal, and it would be pass down with each female generation until after the "Phoenix" rose from its ashes," Pamela finally concluded.

Fred wasn't satisfied. The story alone had unleashed a series of questions. Suddenly, he felt sympathy for Hermione if this was the way she felt all the time. He couldn't keep going on asking Pamela every little question. But he had a lead now, or something to go off of. Even if it was just lore and myth.

"What happened to the Ancients?"

"Cast out, grew old and died. But the pure-blood line of witches and wizards are said to be direct descendants of them." She shrugged. "And there is even a line of witches and wizards that are said to still guard the gates and help guard the Light. Even though no one knows what the Gods did with it."

"And what happens when the Phoenix rises from ashes?"

"No one knows. But you can't believe everything," she chuckled. "With me being Catholic I was able to find flaws in the story and just look at it as myth. Chase, my boyfriend is thinking that Hades was able to create something powerful. And truly believes the story."

Fred shook his head. He closed the book and the white burning light disappeared with it. The Light was a person, and they were looking for a person once again. But Pamela didn't believe the story, how could she—she was (as she pointed out) Catholic. She had her own God and savior to believe in. It was made her different from the crowd he hung out with.

He lay back down, putting his head behind his head and relaxed. Suddenly, her stomach growled loudly. Her hands rushed up to her face as she turned a nice shade of red, which easily matched his own red hair. He thought back to his day and had forgotten to eat himself, other than the tea that Ron had made before they started their research.

"Shall we get something to eat? I know this little place in Diagon Alley which is still open at this hour."

"What time is it over there?"

Fred glanced over at the small grey alarm clock that Pamela had. It read 2:25. Sometimes he forgot that they were only five hours apart—some days it seemed longer than that. "It's seven o'clock. Dinner time, or lunch time for you. Which ever you prefer."

Pamela shook her head and grabbed a brush. Quickly brushing through it, she pulled it out of her face and grabbed a pair of flip-flops. Standing out she smoothed her purple skirt (Having just arrived home from church, Fred guessed.) and held out her hand. He took and they Disapparated.

Fred walked down the street, he was nervous. Pamela and him had been dating for a couple of weeks now. Just only a couple, never had he been so afraid to move in on a relationship so quickly. They were friends since August and dating since September. He never thought that their friendship would evolve into something more. He didn't want to ruin it any more than it had probably been ruined.

Pamela ran to catch up with Fred. He was exhausted from a long day of studying, and some work. It was even harder to travel across the country and still be able to function properly. Sure, it was probably going to get easier over time, but as of right now it was hard on him and his body. He thought back to how they had improved in both friendship and a boyfriend/girlfriend.

She had long since passed the awkward, "I don't know you stage, and entered into the "I think you're cute stage." It was hard to believe that Pamela had especially found an interest with both of the twins, instead of just one of them. She used them for many of her writings that made George and Fred's pride swell greatly. But mostly George's as she reshaped Joey just a tad bit to be more like George. Carefree and loving the world, even if he was missing an ear, she still liked the boy.

Fred guessed that Pamela was a little unsure of him still, sometimes she ran to George more than him. He snuck a glance at the girl in question. From what George had told him, she thought he was cute, but different from George. He was a little bit more temperamental, and enjoyed life a little bit more, by dating around. She was sort of jealous of the fact; he had gone out with Angelina instead of coming by the Burrow late August, early September. But she eventually got over it; George was enough to keep her happy. And soon Fred was around her, trying to get her to talk about everything that was going on.

As of right now, Fred was glad that he had gotten the courage and asked her out. He knew that she would of never confessed her feelings for him, no matter how school girlish they were. It was funny to watch her blush a couple of times when he would crack a joke or even tease her. She still did it often now—especially at dinner.

A sigh came from the girl next to him, and Fred reached for her hand. He could see the blush cross her face as he kissed her knuckles. He wanted to kiss her so badly, as he led her down the street. He would just have to deal with holding hands and sitting next to each other for now.

It was a cool night, and Pamela was only slightly cold. She looked at her boyfriend and snuggled into him for warmth. Words really weren't necessary, sometimes they enjoyed each other's company more than words themselves. Fred let out a sigh as she clutched his arm. This caused her to look up at him with worry. He shook his head and smiled, it was all right with him if she held on to his arm. He waved by a friend as they walked by; stopping to talk was out of the question.

They continued their way to a small park in the town by Fred's place. He had promised to take her there one night. And since it was a weekend she was allowed to stay out a little bit later. And neither of them really had to worry about the time difference. Okay, the did, but they paid no mind to it because Fred would always work a later shift on Monday, so for once, it worked for both of them..

Fred wrapped his arm around her as she tried to get closer to him, for body heat. She wasn't usually so cold, but for some reason the cold was getting to her quicker. And she had forgotten her coat at home. This caused him to laugh at her as he placed the coat he was wearing around her.

He picked her up and placed her on his back before taking off into a sprint. She held tightly onto his neck. Both Fred and Pamela knew that she was afraid of heights and it was very rarely she'd allow someone to pick her up like that. It was too strange for her, and she usually got sick somehow. Probably because when she was picked up, she was spun around.

Fred smirked as he slid to a stop, he couldn't believe that park was so close. It was strange for them to be out this late, normally it was because he was out with the boys at the local pub, in Hogsmeade, drinking up their problems. But tonight he was with a girl that meant more than the world to him. Of course, next weekend he'd be out with the boys again, but for one weekend, he was all Pamela's.

He sat her down on the bench and played with her hair. She had officially decided that he was the only one allowed to play with her hair. Sure Charissa could braid it, or Chelsea could straighten it, but it was very rarely she allowed someone run their fingers through it or brush it, like the Weasley Twins could. But he took great happiness in playing with it, and she took great pride when her hair looked a whole lot better than when he first started playing with it.

She sighed and leaned on his shoulder. Their night was perfect; there were no words just sighs and little gestures that actually meant something. Pamela looked up into Fred's blue-green eyes. It was rare she saw anyone with eyes like that, or she did but just didn't care, and she was fascinated with his eyes, and very attracted to his red hair.

Fred kissed the top of her blonde hair. His right hand playing with her class ring, and his other hand holding her left, together they looked a newly wedding couple. She looked down at their intertwined fingers and brought them up the cheek. She felt loved and never wanted to leave his side most of the time.

Fred looked down, and then quickly looked away. Sighing Pamela knew what he wanted, but he was willing to take it slow. Slow, something she was surprised that he was willing to do. She leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth. Pamela knew right away she was probably being a tease, but anything to get him to kiss her.

Shocked, Fred pulled away and studied her blue eyes a little longer, making sure that she was willing to kiss him. It seemed like a huge jump from being pushed away from last night. He shook his head, his red hair going everywhere in his face, maybe she was just being a girl and waiting for the right moment.

It wasn't like she didn't want to move a little bit faster, and they were only dating for a few weeks. She wanted something to know that this relationship could work. Both of them had had a series of bad relationships in the past and now was the chance to prove that they could have a serious relationship.

Fred leaned down and muttered something against her lips that she didn't hear. She felt her heart take off as he closed the gap. It was gentle, but at the same time, he knew what he was doing. He didn't want to rush the kisses too much, but both were happy to be this close to one another. Pamela sighed into the kiss, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

It was almost movie perfect, except there was one thing that made it worse. They had to pull apart because Pamela had forgotten to breath. Fred let out a chuckle before resting his head on hers. Pamela bit her bottom lip as she smiled. They would have to work on her kissing technique later, and that way she could learn a little bit more.

K15: Okay, I think I finally got the part I wanted out. I revamped the date scene a little. But only to put more of Fred's thoughts into it.

Fred: Because I'm important.

Me: So I wrote most of this last night, and just couldn't stop writing. Plus I took a little bit from the relationship (which is part of the reason it took so long for me to update) and gave it to Fred and Pamela.

Fred: I liked it.

Me: Yeah, I did too. And normally I don't write romantic scenes. So I think my favorite part was about the Light. I had no idea how that was going to turn out… plus it was kind of just something I threw together because I had no idea what the Light was. Anyway, enough of me babbling. I'll try updating soon. You guys don't forget to review. Later. K15

PS- Just a little tidbit, the Angel of Death in the story does really have a name. It's Jessika.