A/N: Chapter contains sex, slightly violent overtones and nasty language.
Also note that we are still in the twins' fifth year.
Chapter Seven: Sex and Confusion
"HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!" Lee shrieked, sounding almost like a girl. "GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP!"
"YEAH!" Fred yelled, and within seconds he was zooming down toward his teammates.
He reached Angelina first. She was screaming, laughing and crying all at once.
"We did it!" she shrieked. "We won! Freddie, we won!"
She hovered on her broom and threw her arms round him, and he threw his arms round her, and before Fred knew what was happening she had kissed him firmly on the lips.
She pulled away quickly, realizing what she'd done, and for a moment they stared at one another in confusion, but before either of them could say a word, their other teammates were upon them, hugging them, creating a tangle of brooms and limbs as they all floated to the ground.
Once there they were flooded by screaming Gryffindors. Fred felt himself being yanked away from Angelina. His lips were tingling.
"We won!" Lee bellowed, as he threw his arms round Fred and clapped him hard on the back.
Fred blinked. It was an uproar. Harry was being borne up on everyone's shoulders. Oliver Wood was so beside himself he was crying. Professor McGonagall was crying. Even Percy was leaping up and down, his normally neat hair flopping wildly on his forehead and his glasses askew.
"Twin!" George screamed, grabbing Fred by the shoulders and hugging him. "We won! Can you fucking BELIEVE IT?! We WON!"
Fred blinked again.
"Hey, Twin, wake the bloody hell up!" George yelled, dragging Fred toward the entrance of the castle, where Dumbledore stood holding the massive silver Quidditch Cup.
Fred blinked a third time and came back to himself, then found himself laughing.
"Blimey," he said weakly, through his laughter. "I can't believe we won!"
"Georgie!" Alicia Spinnet screamed, and she threw her arms round George's neck and he twirled her in the air. She was kissing him all over his face and he was laughing.
"Fred!" Katie Bell shrieked. She hugged him tightly and again he felt himself being pulled toward the castle. Where was Angelina?
Fred swallowed. They'd kissed. Again. After agreeing that they wouldn't.
Fred shook his head. Get a grip, Weasley, he thought. It wasn't a real KISS. And we've just won the Cup, haven't we? So we were both caught up in the moment. Right? And you haven't kissed at all since that day in Hogsmeade.
But you're going out with Marietta at the moment. Good lord, where WAS Marietta? Had she seen Angelina kiss him? And Angelina was going out with Roger Davies. Had HE seen anything?
"Fred."
Fred turned, and found himself looking at Angelina.
"Hey," he said awkwardly. A vision of George and Alicia twirling, with Alicia planting kisses all over George's face, filled Fred's mind. He wished Angelina would do that. No, he didn't.
"Sorry," she said. "About--"
"That," said Fred quickly. "Come on, we've...we've won the cup!"
"Yeah," said Angelina. "I guess--we were just caught up in it."
"You mean you were caught up," said Fred, grinning, hoping that by teasing her they could reclaim their friendship comfort zone.
"Hey, you were there, too!" said Angelina, swatting him on the arm.
"Guilty," said Fred. "But hey, no tongue that time, right, so it's okay."
"Right," said Angelina, laughing. But it sounded a bit...forced.
"Angie--"
"No, you're right," said Angelina. "Totally innocent. Nothing to worry about."
They didn't say anything for a moment, they simply looked at one another
"Hey, you two!" shouted Lee. "Party in the common room!"
"In a minute!" Angelina called. Lee shrugged and rolled his eyes, then turned and jogged back to the castle.
"Frederick!" said a joyous female voice.
Fred turned to come face to face with Marietta Edgecombe. His girlfriend.
"Hey!" she said happily. "You were brilliant! Congratulations!"
"Thanks," he said, trying to sound casual.
"Oh, and you, too, Angelina," said Marietta, giving Angelina a slightly perfunctory smile.
"Thanks," said Angelina, smiling back coolly.
"You weren't hurt by that bat, were you?" said Marietta. "It was horrible when Flint hit you with it."
"No, I'm okay," said Angelina.
"Right," said Marietta. "I guess that was a silly question. You're a big, tough girl, you can handle silly Marcus Flint."
"That's me," said Angelina tightly. "Big and tough."
Fred swallowed. "Uh, Marietta," he said slowly.
"Of course, it WAS nice of Frederick to send that Bludger into Flint's face," said Marietta sweetly, smiling up at Fred with a kind of adoring expression on her face. Fred's ears went red. "That's my Frederick, always being chivalrous."
Angelina gave a kind of snort that turned into a cough. "Excuse me," she said. "I think I'll...head up to the party. See you later, Fred?"
"Uh, sure," said Fred.
He watched her go for a moment and swallowed again when he saw Roger Davies jog over to her and pull her into a hug. Roger then kissed Angelina rather enthusiastically on the lips, which caused her to laugh.
"You really WERE incredible, Frederick," said Marietta, in a cooing sort of voice as she put her arms round his neck.
Fred hugged her back. She smelled good. She looked great, as always. Her small, delicate body fit nicely next to his sturdy, larger, muscular one. Her blonde hair was loose and blew in the breeze. But as he held her close, his eyes wandered up to see Angelina walking slowly back to the castle, hand in hand with Roger Davies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh, Frederick," Marietta moaned. Her head was thrown back and she clutched at Fred's chest as he thrust inside her, hard, her nails digging into the soft flesh.
Fred closed his eyes, trying to lose himself in the girl on top of him. Trying not to wince at the way her nails were digging into him. Trying to muster some energy and enthusiasm when a part of him simply wanted to go to sleep.
"Oh, yes, yes, YES!" Marietta screamed. "Oh, Frederick! Fuck me harder! HARDER!"
He closed his eyes and obeyed, all the while tempted to grab his wand and put a Silencing Charm on her. Good lord, she was loud. It was always like this. Fred was amazed they hadn't been caught by now.
They were in an empty classroom, on a pile of blankets. It was very late at night. The party in the Gryffindor common room had still been in full swing when Fred slipped out to meet her.
"Frederick, kiss me."
He did. Marietta's lips were soft, but a bit on the thin side. As he deepened the kiss he felt her tongue in his mouth, which stirred him to thrust into her harder. He worked up a good rhythm--and a good sweat--and she began to moan again in earnest. Fred was getting a bit tired now, and the urge to come was pressing on him, but he knew she'd never let him come before her. She sat up and arched her back and Fred took the opportunity to move his hand between their bodies and stroke her.
"YES! YES! YES!" screamed Marietta, and she convulsed on top of him, giving in to her orgasm. The tightening of her muscles round him sent him over the edge, and he groaned as he spilled inside her.
She collapsed onto him, sated at last. Fred felt the weight of her on him and felt her breath on his neck as she buried her head in his shoulder. He felt himself go slack and slip out of her. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her back, in her blonde hair.
"Mmm," she murmured, kissing his neck. Already she was trying to arouse him again. Under other circumstances Fred might have felt an almost instant stirring down there, but tonight he was beyond exhausted. He'd played the hardest Quidditch match of his life today. Frankly, he was amazed he'd been able to shag her at all.
"Frederick," murmured Marietta, and she began to kiss his face.
"Mari," he said. "Please. I'm bloody exhausted."
"Aw," said Marietta, in that annoying, cajoling way of hers, "one more go. Please, Frederick?"
"Mari," Fred said, groaning. "I couldn't get it up again even if you charmed it, okay? No more tonight. I mean it."
Marietta pouted, but rolled off him all the same.
"Okay," she said reluctantly. "But tomorrow morning, watch out." She yawned and smiled at him sleepily, then closed her eyes.
"Love you," she murmured.
"Love you, too," Fred said dully.
She went to sleep almost immediately. She always did. He was grateful for this. He was never one for conversation after a shag. Not that she was much of a conversationalist, even when they weren't in bed.
Fred sighed. When they'd first started dating he'd been thrilled. He'd been lusting after her for weeks and when she finally agreed to go out with him he'd felt like he was floating on air.
True, Marietta was a bit silly. She was one of those girls who was actually quite smart but who acted rather dizzy and dimwitted round boys. She tended to talk quite a lot about fashion and hair and anything else that was in the latest issue of Witch Weekly. She had the rather annoying habit of calling him by his full name, Frederick. It reminded him sickeningly of his mother, who would use his full name ("Frederick Michael Weasley!") whenever she was in a temper with him. But Marietta told him "Frederick" was distinguished, whereas "Fred" was ordinary. And Marietta would not settle for an ordinary boyfriend.
Fred had rather hoped Marietta would be a bit more enthusiastic, too, about Quidditch. She was best friends with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker. It seemed odd, therefore, that Marietta didn't show much interest in the sport herself.
And of course, Marietta and Angelina didn't like each other much. Angelina had never once said an unkind word to Fred about Marietta, but Fred was perceptive enough to realize that he couldn't really talk to Angelina about his relationship with Marietta, either, and this had always bothered him. He missed that closeness he had with his best girl mate.
Talking with Marietta about Angelina was out of the question. The few times he'd tried to entertain Marietta with a funny "Fred and Angie" story she had stopped him, usually with her breathy voice and seductive kisses.
Fred looked at Marietta again. She slept soundly, not a care in the world. He sighed. What was wrong with him? He really ought to feel a bit better about things. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup. He'd just had a nice shag with his girlfriend. So why did he feel so...empty?
His mind wandered, and he wondered if Angelina and Roger had shagged yet. The thought wasn't a pleasant one. Fred rather hoped Angelina hadn't shagged Roger. Of if she had, that at least she'd waited longer to go to bed with Roger than Marietta had waited to go with Fred.
Fred remembered their first time. He had been so amazed by it all that he was quite sure his performance had been dreadful, but Marietta hadn't seemed to care. Indeed, she had practically attacked him that night, only a few weeks after their first date. Fred had been shocked by her aggression-- she was, after all, only fifteen. She had been so wild and enthusiastic about it all that she hadn't seemed to notice that he'd lasted only about twenty seconds before succumbing to a brain-frying orgasm.
They'd been shagging almost daily ever since. Marietta was enthusiastic and athletic (indeed, sex seemed to be the only thing she was athletic about), but Fred couldn't help but wonder whether her rather theatrical screaming and moaning when he was inside her or using his mouth on her was just that: theatrical. It just didn't seem entirely sincere to him.
And, Fred had to admit, that her constant moaning and dirty talk could be very distracting. More than once he had imagined making love with Marietta in almost complete silence, finding that quiet place he'd often heard about that two people in love can share. But he could never seem to find that place with her.
Then there was the fact that she was practically insatiable. If Marietta had her way they would shag for hours. Didn't she understand that he got TIRED sometimes? That just because he was young and horny didn't mean he was ALWAYS ready to go?
It could be worse, he supposed. He could be jerking off every night in his room, alone, with only the photographs in dirty magazines to keep him company. At least Marietta was warm and had arms to put round him. But could that be enough?
What, really, did he and Marietta have in common? Nothing, except for an enthusiasm for sex.
It was odd, really, to feel this way. He was quite certain any number of blokes would kill to be in his shoes--dating a gorgeous blonde who shagged him every night and made very few demands of him. No, Marietta never expected too much from him. Never challenged him in anything. She was a total sweetheart. Deferential. Pleasant. Perhaps a bit caustic about Angelina, but otherwise adoring. And of course, as randy as he was. She was the perfect girlfriend.
Perfectly boring.
Fred turned on his side, away from her. It just wasn't working for him anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent conversation with Marietta. They hadn't gone on a date in weeks. No, they always ended up here, in this old, abandoned classroom. More than once Fred had hoped that they might just sit up one night and TALK like friends, but they didn't. Marietta didn't seem to want to talk. She only wanted to fuck. And that had become boring.
Fred watched Marietta sleep for a moment. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't be her boyfriend. He had to break it off. But how? When?
As soon as possible, he thought.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Except that "as soon as possible" never seemed to come for Fred. Every time he had the opportunity to tell Marietta it was over, he found that he couldn't. Mainly because she always initiated sex before he could get the words out, and he--horny git that he was--wound up going along with it.
At first, anyway. But as the days went along and the dreaded O.W.Ls came nearer, Fred began to avoid Marietta. His exams provided the perfect excuse to spend less and less time with her. She scoffed at him when he'd told her he needed to study ("YOU, study? When have you EVER studied?"), but very quickly she backed off, when she noticed that he WAS, in fact, studying. Sort of.
He and George didn't have much hope of doing all that well, of course. The twins were not stupid so much as underachieving. At least where their school work was concerned. Lately Fred and George had begun to invent things. Joke things, like fake wands and blowing gum that turned one's skin blue. They were clever little inventions, but hardly the sort of thing that helped them in their schoolwork.
The other reason Fred studied for the O.W.Ls was, quite simply, to avoid any complications at home. His mother had written the twins regularly for the past month, threatening dire consequences if they didn't do well on the exams.
But the true misery of the month was not the studying, or the daily sense of dread he felt at knowing he would have to confront Marietta sooner or later. The true misery was not seeing Angelina.
He missed her. He missed her company, her humor, her understanding. When she wasn't studying she was with Roger Davies (and even when she WAS studying it was usually in his company). The two of them seemed very close. Angelina always looked like she had a good time with Roger. Like she was...happy. Fred realized almost at once that he was jealous. Angelina had with Roger what Fred had wanted with Marietta. What Fred knew he could not have.
The O.W.Ls came at last, but Fred barely noticed he was taking them. He slogged his way through the written and practical parts of each exam, his brain on a sort of auto-pilot. On the morning after his final practical exam--Astronomy--Fred headed outside after breakfast to enjoy the sunshine and the fair weather.
Unfortunately, Marietta Edgecombe seemed to have the same idea, and she caught up with him just outside the Great Hall. Fred was tempted to brush her off, but he didn't. He realized he could not put off what he needed to say to her a moment longer.
They wound up sitting by the lake. Marietta had already asked him a few times what was wrong.
"Mari, we have to talk."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You're BREAKING UP with me?"
Marietta's normally pretty face was screwed up in shock and fury.
"Look, Mari, it's not working, okay?" said Fred weakly, holding up his hands.
"It's working just FINE for me!" she snapped angrily.
"Not for me," said Fred. He couldn't remember ever feeling so damn exhausted.
"What's wrong?" said Marietta furiously. "Do I not shag you enough?"
"What?" said Fred. "No, Mari, that's not it. Believe me."
"Oh," said Marietta. "I get it. It's another girl, isn't it?"
"No!" said Fred, although part of him was now wishing this WERE the case. It would be a much easier way to dump her, a much more convenient excuse than trying to explain to her that he just didn't care very much for her any more, if he ever did.
"Then WHAT is the problem?" Marietta shrieked. "I don't get this, Frederick. You and I have a lovely time together. We have great sex. I certainly make things easy for you, I'm not one of those demanding girls who expects you to be with my all the time, am I?"
"No," said Fred dully.
"And it's not like I'm not enthusiastic when it comes to sex, is it?" said Marietta.
Fred stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "You don't understand," he said. "It's not enough." He stood up and walked away from her, looking out at the lake.
"Sex every DAY isn't enough?"
"It's not about sex!" said Fred. "Jesus, Mari. Don't you get it? The only thing we have in common is sex, and it's not enough for me, okay? We don't talk. We don't hang out. We just fuck. And guess what? Even for a horny git like me that gets old after a while. Why can't we be friends, eh? Why is it that the ONLY thing we do is shag?"
"Well, EXCUSE ME for wanting to please you!" Marietta cried, angry tears shining in her blue eyes. She leapt up. "I thought sex is what you wanted! Most blokes would be grateful to have a girlfriend who bangs them stupid every night!"
"Is that what fucking me is all about, then?" said Fred furiously. "Making me GRATEFUL to you? Getting me into some kind of--of Shag Debt to you? Making yourself into some kind of--of sexual martyr or something?"
"Well, it's not like I haven't been generous," said Marietta.
"Jesus, will you listen to yourself?" said Fred incredulously. "That's sick, Mari! Sex isn't supposed to be about that!"
"Then what's it about?" said Marietta hotly. "If you're such an expert? Why don't you tell me, Frederick?"
"I don't know," said Fred angrily. "I only know it's not supposed to be about this. I don't want this. I want--I want more, okay? I wanted to be friends with you but--but you never let me. Every time I tried to talk to you about anything, about myself, ask about you, you--you jumped on me."
"Don't you DARE try to blame this all on me!" said Marietta.
"I'm not," said Fred sadly. "I didn't stop you, did I? I was too much of a horny immature git. I admit it, all right? But--it's not ENOUGH, Mari. I want more. I want a girlFRIEND, not just a--a shag partner."
Marietta stared at him, and her eyes went cold.
"I get it," she said frostily. "It's that Angelina Johnson, isn't it? She's turned you against me."
"WHAT?"
"Don't try to deny it, Frederick," said Marietta icily. "That girl has always had it out for me. She's never approved of us being together. I'll bet she's been poisoning your mind about me from Day One!"
"Angelina hasn't said a word about you!" said Fred. "She has nothing to do with this!"
"Bullshit!" said Marietta. "I've seen the way she looks at me. Like I'm not good enough for you!"
"That's not true!" Fred shouted.
"You're having it off with her, aren't you?"
"WHAT!?" Fred cried, now completely stunned. "Angelina's going out with Roger Davies, remember? What are you on about?"
"You're fucking her, aren't you?" said Marietta angrily, and now her red, furious face was only inches from his. Her blue eyes were blazing.
"No!"
"Yes, you are, don't lie to me!" she yelled. "What, are you sharing her with Roger, is that it? He stuffs her one day, you stuff her the next?"
Fred felt hot anger race through his veins. "Don't you talk about Angie!"
"Angie, Angie, Angie!" Marietta mocked. "I wonder who she likes better, Roger or you. Probably Roger, if she has any taste."
"I'm warning you, Marietta--"
"Is it because she's black, Frederick? Is that it?" Marietta went on. "I've heard black girls are real animals in bed. Is that it? You have the gall to tell me you're dumping me because we're not FRIENDLY enough while you're boffing that--that big, stupid, ugly, BLACK WHORE!"
A fury, white hot and all consuming, shot through Fred's veins and he clenched his fists. He wanted to hit her. He'd never hit a girl in his life, had always thought boys who hit girls were bullies, beneath contempt. But at that moment, he wanted to backhand Marietta Edgecombe right across her face.
Instead his hands reached for her shoulders and gripped them hard.
"Don't you EVER say that about Angie again," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Ever."
Marietta's anger vanished and her face went white with fear as he gripped her shoulders and brought his face within inches of hers.
"Angelina Johnson," Fred said slowly, "is a thousand times the girl you'll ever be, Marietta. She's beautiful and smart and warm and loyal. Yeah, she doesn't like you, but she never once said a nasty word about you to me, and do you know why? Because she's a true mate, something you couldn't possibly understand. She's my best mate and she knew I cared about you and she didn't want to mess with my happiness. Only I wish she had. I wish she had told me what a--a selfish, cruel, manipulative, RACIST little bitch you are. Then maybe I wouldn't have wasted my time on you."
He let go of her shoulders roughly and she stumbled back, staring at him in shock.
Fred glowered at her for a long moment, willing her to back away from him with his furious blue-grey eyes. She did.
"Goodbye, Marietta," he said slowly. "I wish I could say it's been fun."
He backed away from her, thoroughly disgusted, with her, with himself. How could he have slept with this girl? This horrible, bigoted, self-centered girl? How had he not known her true nature?
Because you were too busy fucking her to notice, the voice in his head said.
He was ashamed of himself. He would never be that stupid, or blind, again.
He turned and started to stalk away from her, but stopped when she began to shout at him again.
"Oh yeah?" she cried. "Well, let me tell YOU something, Frederick Weasley! You're nothing but a stupid, ugly, poor, pathetic LOSER! You have a TINY cock! AND you're HORRIBLE in bed!"
Fred supposed he ought to feel embarrassed by what she'd just said, but he didn't. He realized he didn't care. In fact, her words struck him as bizarrely funny, and he began to laugh. He shook his head and laughed.
He was still laughing when he walked into the castle. Okay, so that had been a lot worse than he'd thought, and a part of him still wanted to hit her for what she'd said about Angelina. But thank Merlin, he was finally free of Marietta Edgecombe. For good.
He laughed all the way back to his room.
Chapter Seven: Sex and Confusion
"HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!" Lee shrieked, sounding almost like a girl. "GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP!"
"YEAH!" Fred yelled, and within seconds he was zooming down toward his teammates.
He reached Angelina first. She was screaming, laughing and crying all at once.
"We did it!" she shrieked. "We won! Freddie, we won!"
She hovered on her broom and threw her arms round him, and he threw his arms round her, and before Fred knew what was happening she had kissed him firmly on the lips.
She pulled away quickly, realizing what she'd done, and for a moment they stared at one another in confusion, but before either of them could say a word, their other teammates were upon them, hugging them, creating a tangle of brooms and limbs as they all floated to the ground.
Once there they were flooded by screaming Gryffindors. Fred felt himself being yanked away from Angelina. His lips were tingling.
"We won!" Lee bellowed, as he threw his arms round Fred and clapped him hard on the back.
Fred blinked. It was an uproar. Harry was being borne up on everyone's shoulders. Oliver Wood was so beside himself he was crying. Professor McGonagall was crying. Even Percy was leaping up and down, his normally neat hair flopping wildly on his forehead and his glasses askew.
"Twin!" George screamed, grabbing Fred by the shoulders and hugging him. "We won! Can you fucking BELIEVE IT?! We WON!"
Fred blinked again.
"Hey, Twin, wake the bloody hell up!" George yelled, dragging Fred toward the entrance of the castle, where Dumbledore stood holding the massive silver Quidditch Cup.
Fred blinked a third time and came back to himself, then found himself laughing.
"Blimey," he said weakly, through his laughter. "I can't believe we won!"
"Georgie!" Alicia Spinnet screamed, and she threw her arms round George's neck and he twirled her in the air. She was kissing him all over his face and he was laughing.
"Fred!" Katie Bell shrieked. She hugged him tightly and again he felt himself being pulled toward the castle. Where was Angelina?
Fred swallowed. They'd kissed. Again. After agreeing that they wouldn't.
Fred shook his head. Get a grip, Weasley, he thought. It wasn't a real KISS. And we've just won the Cup, haven't we? So we were both caught up in the moment. Right? And you haven't kissed at all since that day in Hogsmeade.
But you're going out with Marietta at the moment. Good lord, where WAS Marietta? Had she seen Angelina kiss him? And Angelina was going out with Roger Davies. Had HE seen anything?
"Fred."
Fred turned, and found himself looking at Angelina.
"Hey," he said awkwardly. A vision of George and Alicia twirling, with Alicia planting kisses all over George's face, filled Fred's mind. He wished Angelina would do that. No, he didn't.
"Sorry," she said. "About--"
"That," said Fred quickly. "Come on, we've...we've won the cup!"
"Yeah," said Angelina. "I guess--we were just caught up in it."
"You mean you were caught up," said Fred, grinning, hoping that by teasing her they could reclaim their friendship comfort zone.
"Hey, you were there, too!" said Angelina, swatting him on the arm.
"Guilty," said Fred. "But hey, no tongue that time, right, so it's okay."
"Right," said Angelina, laughing. But it sounded a bit...forced.
"Angie--"
"No, you're right," said Angelina. "Totally innocent. Nothing to worry about."
They didn't say anything for a moment, they simply looked at one another
"Hey, you two!" shouted Lee. "Party in the common room!"
"In a minute!" Angelina called. Lee shrugged and rolled his eyes, then turned and jogged back to the castle.
"Frederick!" said a joyous female voice.
Fred turned to come face to face with Marietta Edgecombe. His girlfriend.
"Hey!" she said happily. "You were brilliant! Congratulations!"
"Thanks," he said, trying to sound casual.
"Oh, and you, too, Angelina," said Marietta, giving Angelina a slightly perfunctory smile.
"Thanks," said Angelina, smiling back coolly.
"You weren't hurt by that bat, were you?" said Marietta. "It was horrible when Flint hit you with it."
"No, I'm okay," said Angelina.
"Right," said Marietta. "I guess that was a silly question. You're a big, tough girl, you can handle silly Marcus Flint."
"That's me," said Angelina tightly. "Big and tough."
Fred swallowed. "Uh, Marietta," he said slowly.
"Of course, it WAS nice of Frederick to send that Bludger into Flint's face," said Marietta sweetly, smiling up at Fred with a kind of adoring expression on her face. Fred's ears went red. "That's my Frederick, always being chivalrous."
Angelina gave a kind of snort that turned into a cough. "Excuse me," she said. "I think I'll...head up to the party. See you later, Fred?"
"Uh, sure," said Fred.
He watched her go for a moment and swallowed again when he saw Roger Davies jog over to her and pull her into a hug. Roger then kissed Angelina rather enthusiastically on the lips, which caused her to laugh.
"You really WERE incredible, Frederick," said Marietta, in a cooing sort of voice as she put her arms round his neck.
Fred hugged her back. She smelled good. She looked great, as always. Her small, delicate body fit nicely next to his sturdy, larger, muscular one. Her blonde hair was loose and blew in the breeze. But as he held her close, his eyes wandered up to see Angelina walking slowly back to the castle, hand in hand with Roger Davies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh, Frederick," Marietta moaned. Her head was thrown back and she clutched at Fred's chest as he thrust inside her, hard, her nails digging into the soft flesh.
Fred closed his eyes, trying to lose himself in the girl on top of him. Trying not to wince at the way her nails were digging into him. Trying to muster some energy and enthusiasm when a part of him simply wanted to go to sleep.
"Oh, yes, yes, YES!" Marietta screamed. "Oh, Frederick! Fuck me harder! HARDER!"
He closed his eyes and obeyed, all the while tempted to grab his wand and put a Silencing Charm on her. Good lord, she was loud. It was always like this. Fred was amazed they hadn't been caught by now.
They were in an empty classroom, on a pile of blankets. It was very late at night. The party in the Gryffindor common room had still been in full swing when Fred slipped out to meet her.
"Frederick, kiss me."
He did. Marietta's lips were soft, but a bit on the thin side. As he deepened the kiss he felt her tongue in his mouth, which stirred him to thrust into her harder. He worked up a good rhythm--and a good sweat--and she began to moan again in earnest. Fred was getting a bit tired now, and the urge to come was pressing on him, but he knew she'd never let him come before her. She sat up and arched her back and Fred took the opportunity to move his hand between their bodies and stroke her.
"YES! YES! YES!" screamed Marietta, and she convulsed on top of him, giving in to her orgasm. The tightening of her muscles round him sent him over the edge, and he groaned as he spilled inside her.
She collapsed onto him, sated at last. Fred felt the weight of her on him and felt her breath on his neck as she buried her head in his shoulder. He felt himself go slack and slip out of her. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her back, in her blonde hair.
"Mmm," she murmured, kissing his neck. Already she was trying to arouse him again. Under other circumstances Fred might have felt an almost instant stirring down there, but tonight he was beyond exhausted. He'd played the hardest Quidditch match of his life today. Frankly, he was amazed he'd been able to shag her at all.
"Frederick," murmured Marietta, and she began to kiss his face.
"Mari," he said. "Please. I'm bloody exhausted."
"Aw," said Marietta, in that annoying, cajoling way of hers, "one more go. Please, Frederick?"
"Mari," Fred said, groaning. "I couldn't get it up again even if you charmed it, okay? No more tonight. I mean it."
Marietta pouted, but rolled off him all the same.
"Okay," she said reluctantly. "But tomorrow morning, watch out." She yawned and smiled at him sleepily, then closed her eyes.
"Love you," she murmured.
"Love you, too," Fred said dully.
She went to sleep almost immediately. She always did. He was grateful for this. He was never one for conversation after a shag. Not that she was much of a conversationalist, even when they weren't in bed.
Fred sighed. When they'd first started dating he'd been thrilled. He'd been lusting after her for weeks and when she finally agreed to go out with him he'd felt like he was floating on air.
True, Marietta was a bit silly. She was one of those girls who was actually quite smart but who acted rather dizzy and dimwitted round boys. She tended to talk quite a lot about fashion and hair and anything else that was in the latest issue of Witch Weekly. She had the rather annoying habit of calling him by his full name, Frederick. It reminded him sickeningly of his mother, who would use his full name ("Frederick Michael Weasley!") whenever she was in a temper with him. But Marietta told him "Frederick" was distinguished, whereas "Fred" was ordinary. And Marietta would not settle for an ordinary boyfriend.
Fred had rather hoped Marietta would be a bit more enthusiastic, too, about Quidditch. She was best friends with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker. It seemed odd, therefore, that Marietta didn't show much interest in the sport herself.
And of course, Marietta and Angelina didn't like each other much. Angelina had never once said an unkind word to Fred about Marietta, but Fred was perceptive enough to realize that he couldn't really talk to Angelina about his relationship with Marietta, either, and this had always bothered him. He missed that closeness he had with his best girl mate.
Talking with Marietta about Angelina was out of the question. The few times he'd tried to entertain Marietta with a funny "Fred and Angie" story she had stopped him, usually with her breathy voice and seductive kisses.
Fred looked at Marietta again. She slept soundly, not a care in the world. He sighed. What was wrong with him? He really ought to feel a bit better about things. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup. He'd just had a nice shag with his girlfriend. So why did he feel so...empty?
His mind wandered, and he wondered if Angelina and Roger had shagged yet. The thought wasn't a pleasant one. Fred rather hoped Angelina hadn't shagged Roger. Of if she had, that at least she'd waited longer to go to bed with Roger than Marietta had waited to go with Fred.
Fred remembered their first time. He had been so amazed by it all that he was quite sure his performance had been dreadful, but Marietta hadn't seemed to care. Indeed, she had practically attacked him that night, only a few weeks after their first date. Fred had been shocked by her aggression-- she was, after all, only fifteen. She had been so wild and enthusiastic about it all that she hadn't seemed to notice that he'd lasted only about twenty seconds before succumbing to a brain-frying orgasm.
They'd been shagging almost daily ever since. Marietta was enthusiastic and athletic (indeed, sex seemed to be the only thing she was athletic about), but Fred couldn't help but wonder whether her rather theatrical screaming and moaning when he was inside her or using his mouth on her was just that: theatrical. It just didn't seem entirely sincere to him.
And, Fred had to admit, that her constant moaning and dirty talk could be very distracting. More than once he had imagined making love with Marietta in almost complete silence, finding that quiet place he'd often heard about that two people in love can share. But he could never seem to find that place with her.
Then there was the fact that she was practically insatiable. If Marietta had her way they would shag for hours. Didn't she understand that he got TIRED sometimes? That just because he was young and horny didn't mean he was ALWAYS ready to go?
It could be worse, he supposed. He could be jerking off every night in his room, alone, with only the photographs in dirty magazines to keep him company. At least Marietta was warm and had arms to put round him. But could that be enough?
What, really, did he and Marietta have in common? Nothing, except for an enthusiasm for sex.
It was odd, really, to feel this way. He was quite certain any number of blokes would kill to be in his shoes--dating a gorgeous blonde who shagged him every night and made very few demands of him. No, Marietta never expected too much from him. Never challenged him in anything. She was a total sweetheart. Deferential. Pleasant. Perhaps a bit caustic about Angelina, but otherwise adoring. And of course, as randy as he was. She was the perfect girlfriend.
Perfectly boring.
Fred turned on his side, away from her. It just wasn't working for him anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent conversation with Marietta. They hadn't gone on a date in weeks. No, they always ended up here, in this old, abandoned classroom. More than once Fred had hoped that they might just sit up one night and TALK like friends, but they didn't. Marietta didn't seem to want to talk. She only wanted to fuck. And that had become boring.
Fred watched Marietta sleep for a moment. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't be her boyfriend. He had to break it off. But how? When?
As soon as possible, he thought.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Except that "as soon as possible" never seemed to come for Fred. Every time he had the opportunity to tell Marietta it was over, he found that he couldn't. Mainly because she always initiated sex before he could get the words out, and he--horny git that he was--wound up going along with it.
At first, anyway. But as the days went along and the dreaded O.W.Ls came nearer, Fred began to avoid Marietta. His exams provided the perfect excuse to spend less and less time with her. She scoffed at him when he'd told her he needed to study ("YOU, study? When have you EVER studied?"), but very quickly she backed off, when she noticed that he WAS, in fact, studying. Sort of.
He and George didn't have much hope of doing all that well, of course. The twins were not stupid so much as underachieving. At least where their school work was concerned. Lately Fred and George had begun to invent things. Joke things, like fake wands and blowing gum that turned one's skin blue. They were clever little inventions, but hardly the sort of thing that helped them in their schoolwork.
The other reason Fred studied for the O.W.Ls was, quite simply, to avoid any complications at home. His mother had written the twins regularly for the past month, threatening dire consequences if they didn't do well on the exams.
But the true misery of the month was not the studying, or the daily sense of dread he felt at knowing he would have to confront Marietta sooner or later. The true misery was not seeing Angelina.
He missed her. He missed her company, her humor, her understanding. When she wasn't studying she was with Roger Davies (and even when she WAS studying it was usually in his company). The two of them seemed very close. Angelina always looked like she had a good time with Roger. Like she was...happy. Fred realized almost at once that he was jealous. Angelina had with Roger what Fred had wanted with Marietta. What Fred knew he could not have.
The O.W.Ls came at last, but Fred barely noticed he was taking them. He slogged his way through the written and practical parts of each exam, his brain on a sort of auto-pilot. On the morning after his final practical exam--Astronomy--Fred headed outside after breakfast to enjoy the sunshine and the fair weather.
Unfortunately, Marietta Edgecombe seemed to have the same idea, and she caught up with him just outside the Great Hall. Fred was tempted to brush her off, but he didn't. He realized he could not put off what he needed to say to her a moment longer.
They wound up sitting by the lake. Marietta had already asked him a few times what was wrong.
"Mari, we have to talk."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You're BREAKING UP with me?"
Marietta's normally pretty face was screwed up in shock and fury.
"Look, Mari, it's not working, okay?" said Fred weakly, holding up his hands.
"It's working just FINE for me!" she snapped angrily.
"Not for me," said Fred. He couldn't remember ever feeling so damn exhausted.
"What's wrong?" said Marietta furiously. "Do I not shag you enough?"
"What?" said Fred. "No, Mari, that's not it. Believe me."
"Oh," said Marietta. "I get it. It's another girl, isn't it?"
"No!" said Fred, although part of him was now wishing this WERE the case. It would be a much easier way to dump her, a much more convenient excuse than trying to explain to her that he just didn't care very much for her any more, if he ever did.
"Then WHAT is the problem?" Marietta shrieked. "I don't get this, Frederick. You and I have a lovely time together. We have great sex. I certainly make things easy for you, I'm not one of those demanding girls who expects you to be with my all the time, am I?"
"No," said Fred dully.
"And it's not like I'm not enthusiastic when it comes to sex, is it?" said Marietta.
Fred stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "You don't understand," he said. "It's not enough." He stood up and walked away from her, looking out at the lake.
"Sex every DAY isn't enough?"
"It's not about sex!" said Fred. "Jesus, Mari. Don't you get it? The only thing we have in common is sex, and it's not enough for me, okay? We don't talk. We don't hang out. We just fuck. And guess what? Even for a horny git like me that gets old after a while. Why can't we be friends, eh? Why is it that the ONLY thing we do is shag?"
"Well, EXCUSE ME for wanting to please you!" Marietta cried, angry tears shining in her blue eyes. She leapt up. "I thought sex is what you wanted! Most blokes would be grateful to have a girlfriend who bangs them stupid every night!"
"Is that what fucking me is all about, then?" said Fred furiously. "Making me GRATEFUL to you? Getting me into some kind of--of Shag Debt to you? Making yourself into some kind of--of sexual martyr or something?"
"Well, it's not like I haven't been generous," said Marietta.
"Jesus, will you listen to yourself?" said Fred incredulously. "That's sick, Mari! Sex isn't supposed to be about that!"
"Then what's it about?" said Marietta hotly. "If you're such an expert? Why don't you tell me, Frederick?"
"I don't know," said Fred angrily. "I only know it's not supposed to be about this. I don't want this. I want--I want more, okay? I wanted to be friends with you but--but you never let me. Every time I tried to talk to you about anything, about myself, ask about you, you--you jumped on me."
"Don't you DARE try to blame this all on me!" said Marietta.
"I'm not," said Fred sadly. "I didn't stop you, did I? I was too much of a horny immature git. I admit it, all right? But--it's not ENOUGH, Mari. I want more. I want a girlFRIEND, not just a--a shag partner."
Marietta stared at him, and her eyes went cold.
"I get it," she said frostily. "It's that Angelina Johnson, isn't it? She's turned you against me."
"WHAT?"
"Don't try to deny it, Frederick," said Marietta icily. "That girl has always had it out for me. She's never approved of us being together. I'll bet she's been poisoning your mind about me from Day One!"
"Angelina hasn't said a word about you!" said Fred. "She has nothing to do with this!"
"Bullshit!" said Marietta. "I've seen the way she looks at me. Like I'm not good enough for you!"
"That's not true!" Fred shouted.
"You're having it off with her, aren't you?"
"WHAT!?" Fred cried, now completely stunned. "Angelina's going out with Roger Davies, remember? What are you on about?"
"You're fucking her, aren't you?" said Marietta angrily, and now her red, furious face was only inches from his. Her blue eyes were blazing.
"No!"
"Yes, you are, don't lie to me!" she yelled. "What, are you sharing her with Roger, is that it? He stuffs her one day, you stuff her the next?"
Fred felt hot anger race through his veins. "Don't you talk about Angie!"
"Angie, Angie, Angie!" Marietta mocked. "I wonder who she likes better, Roger or you. Probably Roger, if she has any taste."
"I'm warning you, Marietta--"
"Is it because she's black, Frederick? Is that it?" Marietta went on. "I've heard black girls are real animals in bed. Is that it? You have the gall to tell me you're dumping me because we're not FRIENDLY enough while you're boffing that--that big, stupid, ugly, BLACK WHORE!"
A fury, white hot and all consuming, shot through Fred's veins and he clenched his fists. He wanted to hit her. He'd never hit a girl in his life, had always thought boys who hit girls were bullies, beneath contempt. But at that moment, he wanted to backhand Marietta Edgecombe right across her face.
Instead his hands reached for her shoulders and gripped them hard.
"Don't you EVER say that about Angie again," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Ever."
Marietta's anger vanished and her face went white with fear as he gripped her shoulders and brought his face within inches of hers.
"Angelina Johnson," Fred said slowly, "is a thousand times the girl you'll ever be, Marietta. She's beautiful and smart and warm and loyal. Yeah, she doesn't like you, but she never once said a nasty word about you to me, and do you know why? Because she's a true mate, something you couldn't possibly understand. She's my best mate and she knew I cared about you and she didn't want to mess with my happiness. Only I wish she had. I wish she had told me what a--a selfish, cruel, manipulative, RACIST little bitch you are. Then maybe I wouldn't have wasted my time on you."
He let go of her shoulders roughly and she stumbled back, staring at him in shock.
Fred glowered at her for a long moment, willing her to back away from him with his furious blue-grey eyes. She did.
"Goodbye, Marietta," he said slowly. "I wish I could say it's been fun."
He backed away from her, thoroughly disgusted, with her, with himself. How could he have slept with this girl? This horrible, bigoted, self-centered girl? How had he not known her true nature?
Because you were too busy fucking her to notice, the voice in his head said.
He was ashamed of himself. He would never be that stupid, or blind, again.
He turned and started to stalk away from her, but stopped when she began to shout at him again.
"Oh yeah?" she cried. "Well, let me tell YOU something, Frederick Weasley! You're nothing but a stupid, ugly, poor, pathetic LOSER! You have a TINY cock! AND you're HORRIBLE in bed!"
Fred supposed he ought to feel embarrassed by what she'd just said, but he didn't. He realized he didn't care. In fact, her words struck him as bizarrely funny, and he began to laugh. He shook his head and laughed.
He was still laughing when he walked into the castle. Okay, so that had been a lot worse than he'd thought, and a part of him still wanted to hit her for what she'd said about Angelina. But thank Merlin, he was finally free of Marietta Edgecombe. For good.
He laughed all the way back to his room.