Stupid Cupid

"I never shall play the wild rover no more,"—The Wild Rover, Irish drinking song.  Anyway, I'm glad my reviewers are enjoying this little ficlet.  What will happen?  Will Fred be mad?  Read, find out…

CHAPTER FIVE: FACING ANGELINA

            After the mass hysteria that was Angelina's weekend, she was almost glad for classes on Monday.

            Explaining the whole mess to Fred about her plan to date George to make him jealous took less time than she'd expected.  She'd also pictured him getting a little mad at her for putting him through all that, but he just laughed and asked where she got such a top-notch idea.  She remembered the twins shaking hands to make up for all the fighting they'd done the past week.  Everyone had sat awhile longer, laughing over the whole thing, and when Katie and Alicia returned to the common room, they shared it with them as well.  As the evening drew to a close and everyone was retreating to bed, Fred had leaned over to whisper in her ear.  "Meet me on the far side of the lake tomorrow after dinner."

            After he'd said that simple sentence, he rose from the couch and headed up the boys' staircase, not even pausing to look back.  She was forced to climb the stairs to the girls' dormitory and toss and turn in bed.  She didn't get more that two hours' worth of sleep, instead she'd lain awake listening to the sounds of her friends snoring or breathing.

            Angelina couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.  If he had something to say to her, why didn't he say it last night?  She didn't think love was supposed to be this complicated.  She'd be acting like a lovesick fool for days, and quite frankly, she was tired of it.  She knew her feelings for Fred were real and true, but Cupid had her jumping around like a crazy clown.  Tonight was it, she promised herself.  It was all or nothing, there would be no more maybes or ifs.  King of Jokers or no, Fred would have to be serious about something in his life.

            In anticipation of the big meeting, she spent most of the day with her head in the clouds.  She reasoned with herself that it was just Fred, she'd seen him a hundred times before, and he was in all of her classes.  Regardless, her mind went daydreaming without her permission.  She though of the dream she'd had a few nights ago, about her and Fred running toward each other around the lake.  Things like that don't happen in real life, she reminded herself.  It would hardly due to have a silly look on her face in Snape's class, lest she'd get a detention quicker than she could say 'Quiddich'.

            In Defense Against the Dark Arts, she snuck a glance in his direction.  His head was bent over his paper, his quill moving furiously.  It looked as if he was buckling down on his studies because it was their final year at school.  Then he shoved the paper across the desk for George to look at, and they snickered over it.  Well, so much for applying himself, she thought.

            At lunch, it seemed the day would go on forever.  They ate and spoke like nothing was happening between them.  But she still felt that heat, that spark when her hand brushed his when they both reached for the jug of pumpkin juice.

            Quiddich practice seemed never to end.  With every goal they scored or Bludger they hit, it still seemed to be the same minute.

Dinner was simply interminable.  Angelina barely touched her food, and tried to look across the table to see if Fred was sneaking glances at her.  Little did she know he was doing exactly the same thing.

            Fred could just kick himself.  Why did he always insist on having the last word?  What was this inspired idea about meeting her at the lake?  Why couldn't he just tell her…tell her he loves her?  These thoughts cascaded through his mind, and he still couldn't believe how stupid he was.  Why was this so hard?  Most everyone was getting up to leave dinner, but he couldn't bring himself to move.  That meant going out to the lake and…facing Angelina.

            To his utter shock, Angelina finally rose.  That left about five people at the Gryffindor table, and not more than that in the whole Great Hall.  She shot him a quick glance, and then walked out of the hall.

            That was obviously his cue.  He pushed his chair away and followed her.  He didn't meet up with her in the hall; in fact, he didn't see her until he got all the way over to the lake.

            It was dusk, and in the sky was like an artist's canvas; splashes of color spread beautifully.  The moon was a perfect crescent, hanging from the heavens.  The stars were just beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, and Fred could see a silhouette on the other side of the lake.  There was something so calm and composed about her, but there was also a distinct air of mystery and ubiquitous good humor.  There was a tickle of awareness in his chest, and it scared and thrilled him at the same time.  He knew the second her eyes landed on him, and he started across the lake at a brisk pace.

            She spotted Fred, a mere shadow on the other side of the lake.  She started towards him, and was struck with a sharp pang of deja-vu.  It's just like the dream, she couldn't help but think.

            When they finally reached each other, it wasn't awkward; it wasn't strange, it was right.  They embraced, and each felt like they were in the perfect place.  Angelina felt Fred's heart beat even through the layers of cloaks and robes, and her own melted.

            "Angelina…I'm sorry."

            She pulled back.  "For what?"

            "I'm sorry for waiting so long to tell you I love you."  He looked down at her chocolate colored face, so beautiful, so kind.  And waited for her to say something.

            If it was possible, Angelina's knees went weaker.  "Well, if you had told me in the first place, I wouldn't have had to pretend to date George, and you wouldn't have had to pretend to be George and cut your hair.  Did I ever tell you how sexy I thought that ponytail was?"  She reached her hand back to play with the fire hued strands that remained at the base of his neck.

            His eyes opened a little wider.  "No, but if you had I would have thought twice before having Hermione chop it off.  I'll grow it back if it turns you on that much."  His eyes twinkled with laughter.

            "I'd be grateful."  She leaned her head against his shoulder.  "Oh, and Fred?"

            "Hmm?"

            "I love you too."

            His smile reached his eyes, and he pulled back a little and stared down at her face again.  He leaned down and brushed his lips over her cheek, then along her jaw, and finally rested them on her luscious lips of wine.

            Angelina stood on tip toes to deepen the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.  She decided that she didn't hate Cupid as much as she thought she did, although she did think that if he could have been a little quicker firing his arrow at Fred, there would have been more kisses like this.  Then she reminded herself that there could be…would be more steamy kisses between them, anytime the mood struck.

            In the misty twilight with hearts bumping, they finally pulled away.  He took her hand, and they started toward the castle.

            "What were you and George laughing about today in Defense Against the Dark Arts?  I saw you working your quill to the breaking point," Angelina asked.

            "Oh, that."  He chuckled.  "In exchange for helping me and getting Hermione to cut my hair, I promised Ron to set him and Hermione up.  I was writing a secret admirer note.  I have to set up candles and nick some sweets from the kitchen for tomorrow night.  Ron was as pale as a ghost when I let him read the letter.  Kids."

            "Kids?  How about Weasley boys in general?

            "You have a point."

            "Darn right I do.  Speaking of the Weasley boys, have you noticed George is in love with Katie?"

I have reached the end of this tale.  I am either going to do an epilogue about Ron and Hermione's little rendezvous or a whole other short story, an aside.  But I'm thinking epilogue.  Let me know your preference in your review!  Sorry this chap is short, but as Porky Pig says, "That's all folks!"

Coming Soon:

Ready To Run—Ginny Weasley is 29 and has been married, divorced, and very confused.  She's working on putting her life back together, but when Harry Potter returns and stirs up feelings she hasn't felt in 15 years, will she stay or run?  (She wasn't married to Harry.)

And check out my other fanfictions, all with intonations or better about F/A:

The Blood of Ronald Weasley--Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville receive a summons from Dumbledore. After the defeat of Voldemort last year, what kind of job does Dumbledore have for them now? Would he really put their lives at risk? Who dies? Read, find out! *Complete!* (Features Fred and Angelina's wedding, and George and Katie's!!)

Under My Spell--Sequel to THE BLOOD OF RONALD WEASLEY. Please read that. This is a post Hogwarts fic, 6yrs after graduation. Lots of fun...Plus a mystery--why is Draco spying on Harry and who is he working for? And how much danger is Harry in if Draco doesn't step in?  (For F/A fans—F/H friendship and F/A's kids)

And if you're a R/H fan, I suggest…

A Promising Christmas

Another Hermione?

Have a happy Easter all!  And thanks for tolerating my advertisements for my fanfiction.  I'll do anything for a review!  Cheers!