"It's happened again," Angelina said upon seeing Fred alone in the common room.
"What has?" he asked, looking up from the parchment in his lap.
"Another attack. Two more people were Petrified." She sat down next to him, concern in her eyes.
"Who this time?"
"A Hufflepuff second-year, Justin Finch-Fletchly, and Nearly Headless Nick." She didn't say any more, just sat there, staring into the fire and biting her lip.
"Angelina, you're perfectly safe, you know that," he said, trying to comfort her. "Besides, Professor Sprout said the Mandrakes are coming along well."
She didn't look up at him. "Even ghosts aren't safe, Fred. Aren't you even worried?" He shrugged. "This isn't a joke, Weasley. Someone could get killed. Did you ever think of that?" She was angry with him now.
"Of course I did," he replied. "I'm just…not worried, that's all."
She stood up abruptly. "Well, that's no surprise. Everything's a joke to you and George. Everything is always so funny." She stomped to the stairs, then stopped and turned back to him. "You know, Fred, pretty soon you're going to realize that life isn't some big gag."
He tried to speak, but she was already on her way up the steps. He sighed and slumped back against the couch, trying desperately to finish his assignment for Double Potions. But try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to write another word. So, he gathered his things and went up to his dormitory to get ready for bed.
He pulled on his pajamas and climbed into the four-poster bed. He shut his eyes and attempted to fall asleep.
Soon the door creaked open and George and Lee Jordan, a friend of theirs, entered. They were talking loudly about some prank they had played on Oliver Wood, but they stopped when the saw Fred.
He peered up and them and said in an annoyed tone, "Some of us are trying to sleep."
"Sorry," they said.
George jumped into the bed next to his twin. "Last day before the Christmas break."
"Yeah, but I'm sure Snape will manage to give us loads of homework," Lee Jordan said from his bed on the opposite side of the room.
Fred turned onto his side and said faintly, "Yeah…" He paused. "D'you think Angelina's staying?"
"Why?" George inquired, narrowing his eyes. "You two looking for some privacy?"
Fred rolled his eyes. "No. She's mad at me."
"Again?" Lee and George asked together.
Fred glared at them for a moment. "I want to patch things up before she leaves," he explained.
"Well, one day doesn't give you much time," George scoffed.
"Why's she mad at you?" Lee asked after a brief period of silence.
Fred sighed. "I'm not really sure. She says I don't take things seriously. That I think everything's a joke."
"But you do," said George.
Fred looked at him in surprise. "So do you."
"Ah, but Angelina isn't angry with me," George said, smiling. "She's angry with you."
Fred grunted and turned away from him. "I'm going to bed now, so leave me alone."
"Lee, he's frustrated with us," came George's voice. "You know how he gets, he might attack us."
"Shut up."
~
"Remember, I want you practicing every day!" Oliver Wood had his head stuck out the window of the Hogwarts Express and was shouting at the twins. "And no ten minutes of racing with Harry, I want two to three-hour sessions!"
"Yes, Oliver!" George yelled.
"You'd better get your head inside the train!" Fred called. "We wouldn't want a tree coming and knocking it off! Who would force us to practice Quidditch more hours than we get to sleep?"
Wood glowered at him. "Just make sure you practice!" He retreated back inside the cabin.
"I thought he'd never leave," George said. "Look, it's Angelina." He looked to his twin. "I assume you've worked things out."
Fred gave his brother a stern look. "She's been avoiding me for two days." He gave her a weak smile as she approached.
She didn't return it. "See you in a few weeks, George."
"Yeah, bye."
"Hey, Angelina." Fred caught her arm as she started toward the train.
"What?" she asked sharply. He couldn't find the words to say anything. "Oh, Fred, just forget it." She smiled slightly. "I've been too hard on you. I'm sorry for that. But let's just forget we even had that conversation. It never happened, all right?"
Fred nodded. "Sure." He pulled a small candy out of his pocket wrapped in gold foil. "Want a Canary Cream?"
She pushed his hand away. "No thanks. I know better than to take anything you'd offer me. Especially if it's edible."
He laughed and she climbed up the steps into the cabin.
"C'mon, let's race around the pitch," George said, pulling Fred away from the train.