For Hogwarts Challenges and Assignments - Term 11, Assignment 1: Muggle Music, Task #1 (Pop): write about something generic meaning something special to someone and the reason why.

For the Through the Universe Challenge at The Golden Snitch Forum (Beauxbatons, Guinefort, 51. Fred and George Weasley).

For MC4A:

Shipping War:

Ship (Team): Fred Weasley and Angelina Johnson (Chaser and Charmer)

List (Prompt): Summer Medium 1 (bittersweet)

Summer Bingo: space A2 (red)

Individual Challenges:

In a Flash, Yellow Ribbon, Yellow Ribbon Redux, Gryffindor MC (x3), Ethnic & Present, Times to Come, Themes & Things A [Reflection]

Bonus(es): In a Flash

Word Count: 640

Mops and Memories

Angelina held the mop in her hands and smiled. It was an old mop, with a worn red handle and fraying strings, but it meant a lot to her. She could still remember the day it had been purchased by a certain redheaded jokester...

...

"Oi, Angie, red or blue?"

Angelina looked up to find Fred flourishing two mops in her direction. She studied them for a moment. "Red," she said at last, then giggled. "It matches your hair."

"My hair isn't that red, is it?" he asked. He spotted his twin nearby and dragged him over. "George, stand still for a moment, I want to see if my hair is really as red as this broom handle."

George complied, though he rolled his eyes as he did so. Fred frowned. "Huh. I guess it really is that red."

Angelina grinned. "Told ya."

"Alright, alright," he grumbled goodnaturedly. "You were right, as always."

"And don't you forget it," she teased.

...

After spending the afternoon purchasing items for the twins' new flat, the trio was exhausted and hungry.

"Mum brought over loads of food the other night. Said she was afraid we'd starve if she didn't," George said, peering into the kitchen cupboards.

"I simply can't imagine why she'd be worried about such a thing," Angelina said mock-seriously.

Fred shoved her playfully. "Shut it, Johnson."

"Come on, you wouldn't last a week without your mum's home cooking, Weasley," she retorted.

"She's right," George said. "We can heat stuff up, but that's about the extent of our prowess in the kitchen."

Fred glared at him. "Some twin you are. You're supposed to take my side, not hers!"

George laughed and held up a ground beef casserole. "You two up for this?"

Fred and Angelina agreed, and as George heated up the casserole, they wandered into the sitting room.

"Thank Merlin we got away from him for a moment," Fred murmured. "I've been dying to kiss you all day."

Angelina smiled and let him pull her flush against him, meeting his lips eagerly.

...

The casserole was delicious and filling. Angelina, Fred, and George cleared their plates quickly, then retired to the sitting room to splay out on the mismatched furniture there. Angelina and Fred claimed the orange couch, leaving the squashy green armchair for George.

"I'm so full," Angelina groaned. "I shouldn't have let you two talk me into having 'a little bit more.'"

George massaged his stomach. "Think I'll be full for a solid month, honestly."

"Me too," Fred said, but after a short while, his usual excitable energy won out and he broke out the mop and matching bucket they had bought earlier that day.

He put the bucket on his head and began to dance a jig with the broom. He looked so ridiculous that Angelina couldn't help but laugh. Soon, she was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down her cheeks, and her stomach was beginning to ache even more.

"Fred, I don't think I can take much more of this," she managed to choke out.

George chimed in, "Cut it out, Fred, you'll kill the poor girl."

Fred removed the bucket from his head and rushed over to Angelina. "We can't have that!" he said dramatically. "I'd miss my beloved girlfriend entirely too much if she were dead."

"I'd miss you entirely too much if you were dead, too, Fred," she replied, kissing his cheek.

She had no idea just how prophetic those words would turn out to be.

...

It had been a good day, Angelina reflected now, a day full of promise and pleasure. Had she known how precious little time she had left with Fred, though, she probably wouldn't have enjoyed it so much.

"Angie?" It was George. "What are you doing?"

She looked at the mop once more before turning to face her husband. "Reminiscing."