A/N: Borrowed some dialogue right out of GoF for this chapter. Fans should
recognize JKR's dialogue, and she gets all the credit for that (along with
the characters, etc. I don't own anything, blah blah blah)
Chapter Ten: The Yule Ball
"A Yule Ball, eh?" said George. "I guess that means we're staying here for Christmas." The twins were walking slowly down the corridor toward the common room.
"How do you know?" said Fred absently, looking over the latest Weasley's Wizard Wheezes order forms.
"Alicia," said George. "She'll want to go. Damn. I hate getting all dressed up."
"Yeah, well, be glad your dress robes don't have lace on them, like Ron's," said Fred. "I almost feel sorry for him. He's going to look like a girl in that get-up."
"A very ugly girl," said George. "So, you going to the ball?"
"Sure, why not?" said Fred, nodding with satisfaction at the order form. "That's two dozen orders for Canary Creams, George. Not bad at all."
"Not bad," George agreed. "Be nicer if we didn't have to just do mail order, though."
"At the rate we're going we won't get enough for premises for the next five years," said Fred, shaking his head. "And that stupid prat Bagman--"
"Don't get me started," said George.
"You got that letter for him?" said Fred.
"Right here," said George, patting his robe breast pocket.
"Balderdash," said Fred at the Fat Lady, and the portrait swung open. The twins crawled through the portrait hole and entered the common room to find Hermione studying, Harry reading "Flying with the Cannons," and Ron building a castle out of Exploding Snap cards. As Ron placed his last two cards on top, the whole thing exploded, singing his red eyebrows.
"Nice look, Ron...go well with your dress robes, that will," said Fred, giving George a look that said "Younger brothers. Honestly." Ron scowled at them both.
"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.
"No, he's off delivering a letter," said Ron. "Why?"
"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," said Fred, rolling his eyes.
"Because we want to send a letter, you dirty great prat," said George.
"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" said Ron, narrowing his eyes at them.
"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you, too," said Fred, pulling out his wand and giving it a threatening wave. "You lot got dates for the ball yet?"
"Nope," said Ron, pausing to push the remnants of his card castle into a pile.
"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.
"Who're you going with, then?" said Ron.
"Angelina," said Fred, glancing over at her and grinning. She was deep in conversation with Alicia and hadn't seen him yet.
"You've already asked her?" said Ron.
Fred looked back at Ron, then at George. Actually, he hadn't.
"Good point," he said. "Oi! Angelina!"
Angelina looked up. Her eyes were bright, but they still had traces of sadness in them. She was still feeling the pain of her break-up with Roger, but Fred was heartened to see that she didn't look nearly so depressed today as she had just a week ago. Perhaps she was finally getting over Davies after all...
"Want to go to the ball with me?" Fred called, grinning at her. Say yes, he thought. It'll be fun. You deserves a bit of fun.
She regarded him for a moment, then smiled. "All right, then."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dammit," said Fred. He glared at himself in the mirror. It was the dress robes, he decided. Everything else about him looked fine. His hair was stylishly messy, his shirt and trousers fit him well, but the dress robes...
The color wasn't bad. Midnight blue, which set off his eyes. But they were shabby and clearly second hand. The velvet had a worn-out, faded look to it.
Bloody hell, he thought. Well, at least they don't have lace.
There was nothing to be done about it. He'd already committed to going to the ball, not so much out of a desire to go but to get Angelina out and about. She had been spending far too much time in her room moping about Davies. He only hoped she would be able to deal with seeing Roger at the ball with Fleur.
He left the dormitory and headed down to the common room, where George, Alicia, Lee and Katie Bell were all preparing to go out of the portrait hole.
"Hi, Fred," said Alicia in a friendly voice. "Angie said she'll be down in a few minutes."
"Girls," said George. "They love to be fashionably late. Except for Alicia, of course." He gave Alicia a fond smile and she rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek.
"You two are disgusting," said Lee and Fred together.
George made a rude gesture in their direction, and Fred grinned as his twin, Alicia, Katie and Lee all made their way out of the common room.
Fred headed toward the fireplace and was about to sit down when he heard noise above him. He looked up to see a girl descending the spiral staircase.
It was Angelina.
Fred's jaw dropped. Her robes were a soft champagne color that set off her beautiful coffee and cream skin. Her dark hair, with its thousands of tiny braids, was done up in an elaborate twist with tiny, sparkling beads threaded throughout. Beneath her robes she wore a matching champagne colored silk dress that skimmed her body and dipped low in the front, revealing a very luscious décolletage. She wore matching shoes on her feet, whose heels gave her another two inches of height. She looked more beautiful than Fred had ever seen her.
"Hi," she said, smiling.
"Wow," he said. "Angie. You look...wow."
"Is that your way of saying I clean up nicely?" said Angelina archly.
"You look amazing," he said. "Beautiful."
"Thanks," she said, a bit shyly. "You look really nice, too."
"Thanks," he said, but he felt shabby and worn in his second-hand robes.
"Fred," she said, taking his hand. "Thanks. For asking me."
Fred felt his face get hot. "Of course," he said, trying to sound casual. "Who else would I go with?"
"I know I haven't been much fun lately--" she began.
"Shh," he said, putting a finger over her lips, which were full and shiny. "We're going to have fun tonight, okay? You're the most beautiful girl in the whole damn school, and I'm going to be the best date you've ever had. Got it?"
Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and she smiled. "Got it," she said.
"Shall we?" Fred offered her his arm. She took it. Together they headed out of the portrait hole, and toward the Great Hall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The students were milling about outside the Great Hall when Fred and Angelina reached the crowd.
"Champions, over here please!" Professor McGonagall called.
"Nice hat," said Angelina dryly, indicating McGonagall's rather awful hat, that was decorated with a wreath of thistles.
"It's festive, anyway," said Fred, grinning.
Angelina giggled, then stopped abruptly. Fleur Delacour glided by, with Roger Davies on her arm. He was staring at her with an expression of shock and glee on his face. Fred felt Angelina stiffen next to him, and he clutched her hand.
"You okay, love?" he asked, looking at her face.
She turned to him. "I'm okay," she said, not entirely convincingly.
The students began to file into the Great Hall behind the four Triwizard Champions and their partners. Fred was amused to see Ron shooting murderous glances at Viktor Krum and longing ones at his partner, Hermione Granger, who was lovely in periwinkle-blue robes.
The Great Hall was decorated to the hilt, but instead of the usual four long tables about a hundred or so smaller, round tables were spread about the room. Fred and Angelina found George, Alicia, Lee and Katie and joined them.
"Nice, this," said Fred, looking round the room.
"Yeah," said George. "And check this. Menus. Like we're in a bloody restaurant."
Fred picked up one of the small cards and looked it over. Pork chops, lamb chops, steak, roast chicken, potatoes, rice, green beans, salad...all of it looked good to him. "How am I supposed to choose here? I'm starving. It all looks good."
"So have all of it," said Angelina. "I'm going to."
Fred grinned. "I love a woman with a healthy appetite."
"I'm just fortifying myself," said Angelina. "The Weird Sisters are playing tonight, and I plan to dance until my legs fall off."
"Uh oh," said George. "Angie, you DO know Fred can't dance?"
"I can dance!" said Fred. "Well, sort of. I'm fine as long as I have plenty of room."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fred threw down his spoon.
"That's it," he said. "I'm done. I couldn't eat another bite if my life depended on it."
"Well, I don't know why you're full," said Angelina dryly. "Seeing as you ate enough food to feed a small country."
"Can't help it, Angie," said Fred, chucking her affectionately on the chin. "I'm a growing boy. Besides, you didn't do so badly yourself in the eating department."
"I'm a growing girl," said Angelina coolly, but she smiled at him.
"I like how you've grown so far," he said, winking and casting a quick glance at her lush bosom.
"Fred," she said, rolling her eyes. "You pig." But she was grinning.
"Really," said Alicia. "What is it with boys and breasts, anyway? What's so special about them?"
"What?" said George. "Boys or breasts?"
Alicia swatted him on the arm.
"They're special because they're soft and pretty and we don't have them," said Lee. "Which is just as well, because if we did, we'd never get anything done. We'd just be fondling them all the time."
"Too much information, Lee," said Alicia.
"You asked, didn't you?" said Lee.
"As fascinating as the subject of girl's body parts is," said Katie, "it looks like the Weird Sisters are setting up."
"Cool," said Fred. "Always wanted to hear them live."
Fred, Angelina and the rest of their table watched the band set up their instruments; the small tables cleared of food and dishes. Dumbledore stood up, indicating that everyone else do so, and when the whole of the Great Hall was on its feet, the small tables zoomed to the walls and out of the way, creating a huge dance floor.
In the next moment, the Weird Sisters began to play. It was a slow, sad kind of song, and Fred felt a rush of amusement to see the four Triwizard champions head out onto the floor to start dancing. Fred chuckled.
"Look at Harry," he said to Angelina. "Poor bloke doesn't have a clue what to do. Parvati's leading him."
"Well, he's not stepping on her feet, anyway," said Angelina.
"Can't say the same for Neville," said George, shaking his head. "Poor Ginny. Her feet'll swell up bigger than the rest of her before the night is over."
"Shall we, Angie?" said Fred, offering her his arm.
"Of course," she said, her eyes steadfastly avoiding Roger and Fleur.
They found an empty space on the floor, and began to dance. Or, at least, Angelina began to dance. Fred froze up. He realized that he didn't know how to do THIS kind of dancing. Slow dancing.
"Uh, Angie," he said uncertainly.
"Oh ho, so who needs leading now?" said Angelina, grinning. She took his right arm and wrapped it round her waist, then took his left hand in her right and placed her left hand round his shoulder, and slowly began to lead him in small circles.
"Ah," he said, grinning. "This isn't so bad."
It wasn't. It was nice. Very nice. Angelina smelled heavenly, she looked gorgeous, and he had to admit, he liked having his hand on her back. Unconsciously he felt it move and snake beneath her robes. She moved just a bit closer to him. He moved closer to her. Her arm moved round his neck. He felt her breath on his ear. Before he knew it, they were pressed together very tightly, her head resting on his shoulder.
Fred closed his eyes as he felt a familiar rush of blood to his lower regions and felt a tightening in his trousers. Sweet Merlin, he was aroused. Incredibly so. If she noticed, she didn't say anything. He didn't want to move. If he moved, she might feel his hardness against her. If she hadn't already.
It was wrong. She was his best mate. She was still mourning over Roger Davies. She needed Fred as a friend; the last thing she needed was for her best mate in the world to get all horny over her.
I can't help it, he thought. He couldn't. She looked so beautiful, and felt so wonderful in his arms, and smelled so good...
Please don't let her notice I'm hard as a rock.
She pressed closer to him and his erection brushed against her hip.
She noticed.
"Weasley," she murmured, her breath hot in his ear, "is that a wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" She chuckled.
"Not funny," he said, torn between wanting to pull away from her to calm the raging in his trousers and afraid that if he did, everyone would see something protruding from beneath his robes. At least she wasn't offended. At least she was reverting to their usual friendly, flirtatious, naughty banter.
"I'm flattered," she said, pulling her head off his shoulder and looking at him.
"I'm glad you're flattered," he said, grimacing. "I'm in a bit of pain, myself."
"Maybe you should think of Hagrid naked or something," she said, giggling.
"Yuck," said Fred. "I don't have to think of him naked, I can just look at him in that yeti costume he's wearing."
Fred did so, his eyes taking in Hagrid's awful, hairy brown suit, and he felt the swelling between his legs ease up. "Ah, much better."
"I had no idea I had such an effect on you, Weasley," Angelina teased.
"Give me a break," said Fred. "I haven't had any since Marietta, and you look fantastic and you smell delicious and...okay, I'm going to stop now, because I'm starting to stand at attention again." He looked resolutely at Hagrid, then at Mad-Eye Moody, and once again the swelling ebbed.
Angelina laughed. "Nasty buggers, hormones," she said.
"Aren't they, though?" said Fred, grinning. Okay, he'd survived that intact. Gotten an erection over his best mate and managed not to destroy their friendship. He was immensely relieved. Almost as relieved by her reaction as he was by the fact that his trousers weren't pressing on him anymore.
The music changed to a fast, exuberant tune, and Angelina, who was still laughing, began to dance. Fred joined in, not so much dancing as throwing his arms and legs around, and people quickly got out of their way.
Very soon Fred lost track of things. He realized he was having a good time, but not because of his dancing, if it could be called that. He was having a good time because Angelina was having a good time. She was laughing and twirling and for the first time, she was the girl he'd met all those years ago at the Sorting, the happy, fun-loving girl who hadn't had her heart broken by a cruel, selfish boy and hadn't had her confidence eroded by the fact that she was taller and more tomboyish than other girls.
As they danced, Fred forgot pretty much everything, except her. He couldn't quite understand the feeling that came over him to see her happy for a change. Only that it made him happy, too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Thank god," said Angelina, as she and Fred stepped out of the Great Hall and into the biting December air.
"Hot in there," said Fred, taking a deep swig of punch. Angelina took a sip of hers and patted her forehead with her handkerchief.
"Good workout, dancing," she said. "I must look a mess."
"No way," said Fred. "You look fantastic."
"Thanks," she said. "You don't look so bad yourself. I think the sweaty- hair look is definitely you."
"Sweaty, frozen hair, you mean," said Fred, touching his wet hair, which had indeed begun to freeze. "I could get a chill out here, you know."
"Not with this stuff," said Angelina, taking another sip of punch. "What'd you spike it with, anyway?"
"A little of this, a little of that," said Fred mischievously. "McGonagall's certainly loosened up some."
"It's good," said Angelina. "I feel warmer already."
"I thought that lovely flush in your cheeks wasn't just because of dancing," said Fred, giving her another of his affectionate chucks on the chin.
She smiled at him, but then her eyes moved to something behind him and seemed to freeze in place.
"What?" Fred asked, but somehow, he knew the answer.
He turned slowly, and followed her gaze to see Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies standing in the midst of a bare rose-bush, snogging heatedly. Fred turned back to Angelina hurriedly.
"Angelina--" he began.
"I'm fine," said Angelina. "I'm..." Her jaw was set and her eyes were wide and cold, but Fred saw it. The slightest quivering in her chin.
"I'm not fine," she said, tearing her eyes away from Fleur and Davies.
"Come on," he said firmly. "Let's go inside." He pulled her gently inside the castle and steered her back toward the Great Hall.
"More punch," she said, finding her feet and walking straight for the nearly overflowing punch bowl.
"Uh oh," Fred muttered, and he started after her, when suddenly a girl stepped into his path. The very last girl he wanted to see.
"Hello, Frederick."
"Marietta."
"Having a good time?" she asked sweetly.
"Lovely," said Fred. "So, which vampire agreed to come with you tonight?"
"Cute," said Marietta, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I always did hate your sense of humor, Frederick."
"I'm crushed, really," said Fred, his eyes on Angelina, who had already filled her cup once with punch, drained it and filled it again. At the rate she was going she'd be three sheets to the wind in a matter of minutes. Not good.
"So, Frederick, how are things going with Angelina?" said Marietta, twirling a lock of her blonde hair in her fingers. "I heard about her and Davies. Awful, really. She must have been so devastated--"
"Look, Marietta," said Fred hotly, annoyed and furious at the way she pretended to show concern for Angelina when in fact she felt no such thing, "I'm busy right now. Excuse me." He started toward Angelina and the punch bowl, but Marietta blocked his path.
"Right," said Marietta. "Taking care of poor Angelina. I'm sure a good shag from you will make her forget all about Roger."
"You really have no idea what you're talking about," said Fred. "Why don't you go find some other bloodsucking parasites to hang out with, yeah? I'm going to go hang out with my date. Goodbye."
He stalked away from her, trying to ignore her smug expression. He reached Angelina in time to see her filling her punch cup for a third time.
"Good stuff, this," she said, her words already slurring.
"Angie," said Fred, in a warning kind of voice. But he was so annoyed and angry at his confrontation with Marietta that part of him wanted to get good and drunk himself.
"Have some," she said, shoving her cup at him. "You look like you could use some, after talking to...what's her name."
"Angie, maybe we shouldn't--"
"Drown our sorrows?" said Angelina. "Nonsense. I'm having a lovely time, Fred. Feel like a million Galleons. I sure do hate to feel this good all by myself." She was speaking in measured phrases, like one who is trying to sound sober but not succeeding at it.
"Go on, have some," she said, smiling at him.
Fred took the cup and down the contents. "What the hell," he said, filling the cup again.
Chapter Ten: The Yule Ball
"A Yule Ball, eh?" said George. "I guess that means we're staying here for Christmas." The twins were walking slowly down the corridor toward the common room.
"How do you know?" said Fred absently, looking over the latest Weasley's Wizard Wheezes order forms.
"Alicia," said George. "She'll want to go. Damn. I hate getting all dressed up."
"Yeah, well, be glad your dress robes don't have lace on them, like Ron's," said Fred. "I almost feel sorry for him. He's going to look like a girl in that get-up."
"A very ugly girl," said George. "So, you going to the ball?"
"Sure, why not?" said Fred, nodding with satisfaction at the order form. "That's two dozen orders for Canary Creams, George. Not bad at all."
"Not bad," George agreed. "Be nicer if we didn't have to just do mail order, though."
"At the rate we're going we won't get enough for premises for the next five years," said Fred, shaking his head. "And that stupid prat Bagman--"
"Don't get me started," said George.
"You got that letter for him?" said Fred.
"Right here," said George, patting his robe breast pocket.
"Balderdash," said Fred at the Fat Lady, and the portrait swung open. The twins crawled through the portrait hole and entered the common room to find Hermione studying, Harry reading "Flying with the Cannons," and Ron building a castle out of Exploding Snap cards. As Ron placed his last two cards on top, the whole thing exploded, singing his red eyebrows.
"Nice look, Ron...go well with your dress robes, that will," said Fred, giving George a look that said "Younger brothers. Honestly." Ron scowled at them both.
"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.
"No, he's off delivering a letter," said Ron. "Why?"
"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," said Fred, rolling his eyes.
"Because we want to send a letter, you dirty great prat," said George.
"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" said Ron, narrowing his eyes at them.
"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you, too," said Fred, pulling out his wand and giving it a threatening wave. "You lot got dates for the ball yet?"
"Nope," said Ron, pausing to push the remnants of his card castle into a pile.
"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.
"Who're you going with, then?" said Ron.
"Angelina," said Fred, glancing over at her and grinning. She was deep in conversation with Alicia and hadn't seen him yet.
"You've already asked her?" said Ron.
Fred looked back at Ron, then at George. Actually, he hadn't.
"Good point," he said. "Oi! Angelina!"
Angelina looked up. Her eyes were bright, but they still had traces of sadness in them. She was still feeling the pain of her break-up with Roger, but Fred was heartened to see that she didn't look nearly so depressed today as she had just a week ago. Perhaps she was finally getting over Davies after all...
"Want to go to the ball with me?" Fred called, grinning at her. Say yes, he thought. It'll be fun. You deserves a bit of fun.
She regarded him for a moment, then smiled. "All right, then."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dammit," said Fred. He glared at himself in the mirror. It was the dress robes, he decided. Everything else about him looked fine. His hair was stylishly messy, his shirt and trousers fit him well, but the dress robes...
The color wasn't bad. Midnight blue, which set off his eyes. But they were shabby and clearly second hand. The velvet had a worn-out, faded look to it.
Bloody hell, he thought. Well, at least they don't have lace.
There was nothing to be done about it. He'd already committed to going to the ball, not so much out of a desire to go but to get Angelina out and about. She had been spending far too much time in her room moping about Davies. He only hoped she would be able to deal with seeing Roger at the ball with Fleur.
He left the dormitory and headed down to the common room, where George, Alicia, Lee and Katie Bell were all preparing to go out of the portrait hole.
"Hi, Fred," said Alicia in a friendly voice. "Angie said she'll be down in a few minutes."
"Girls," said George. "They love to be fashionably late. Except for Alicia, of course." He gave Alicia a fond smile and she rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek.
"You two are disgusting," said Lee and Fred together.
George made a rude gesture in their direction, and Fred grinned as his twin, Alicia, Katie and Lee all made their way out of the common room.
Fred headed toward the fireplace and was about to sit down when he heard noise above him. He looked up to see a girl descending the spiral staircase.
It was Angelina.
Fred's jaw dropped. Her robes were a soft champagne color that set off her beautiful coffee and cream skin. Her dark hair, with its thousands of tiny braids, was done up in an elaborate twist with tiny, sparkling beads threaded throughout. Beneath her robes she wore a matching champagne colored silk dress that skimmed her body and dipped low in the front, revealing a very luscious décolletage. She wore matching shoes on her feet, whose heels gave her another two inches of height. She looked more beautiful than Fred had ever seen her.
"Hi," she said, smiling.
"Wow," he said. "Angie. You look...wow."
"Is that your way of saying I clean up nicely?" said Angelina archly.
"You look amazing," he said. "Beautiful."
"Thanks," she said, a bit shyly. "You look really nice, too."
"Thanks," he said, but he felt shabby and worn in his second-hand robes.
"Fred," she said, taking his hand. "Thanks. For asking me."
Fred felt his face get hot. "Of course," he said, trying to sound casual. "Who else would I go with?"
"I know I haven't been much fun lately--" she began.
"Shh," he said, putting a finger over her lips, which were full and shiny. "We're going to have fun tonight, okay? You're the most beautiful girl in the whole damn school, and I'm going to be the best date you've ever had. Got it?"
Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and she smiled. "Got it," she said.
"Shall we?" Fred offered her his arm. She took it. Together they headed out of the portrait hole, and toward the Great Hall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The students were milling about outside the Great Hall when Fred and Angelina reached the crowd.
"Champions, over here please!" Professor McGonagall called.
"Nice hat," said Angelina dryly, indicating McGonagall's rather awful hat, that was decorated with a wreath of thistles.
"It's festive, anyway," said Fred, grinning.
Angelina giggled, then stopped abruptly. Fleur Delacour glided by, with Roger Davies on her arm. He was staring at her with an expression of shock and glee on his face. Fred felt Angelina stiffen next to him, and he clutched her hand.
"You okay, love?" he asked, looking at her face.
She turned to him. "I'm okay," she said, not entirely convincingly.
The students began to file into the Great Hall behind the four Triwizard Champions and their partners. Fred was amused to see Ron shooting murderous glances at Viktor Krum and longing ones at his partner, Hermione Granger, who was lovely in periwinkle-blue robes.
The Great Hall was decorated to the hilt, but instead of the usual four long tables about a hundred or so smaller, round tables were spread about the room. Fred and Angelina found George, Alicia, Lee and Katie and joined them.
"Nice, this," said Fred, looking round the room.
"Yeah," said George. "And check this. Menus. Like we're in a bloody restaurant."
Fred picked up one of the small cards and looked it over. Pork chops, lamb chops, steak, roast chicken, potatoes, rice, green beans, salad...all of it looked good to him. "How am I supposed to choose here? I'm starving. It all looks good."
"So have all of it," said Angelina. "I'm going to."
Fred grinned. "I love a woman with a healthy appetite."
"I'm just fortifying myself," said Angelina. "The Weird Sisters are playing tonight, and I plan to dance until my legs fall off."
"Uh oh," said George. "Angie, you DO know Fred can't dance?"
"I can dance!" said Fred. "Well, sort of. I'm fine as long as I have plenty of room."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fred threw down his spoon.
"That's it," he said. "I'm done. I couldn't eat another bite if my life depended on it."
"Well, I don't know why you're full," said Angelina dryly. "Seeing as you ate enough food to feed a small country."
"Can't help it, Angie," said Fred, chucking her affectionately on the chin. "I'm a growing boy. Besides, you didn't do so badly yourself in the eating department."
"I'm a growing girl," said Angelina coolly, but she smiled at him.
"I like how you've grown so far," he said, winking and casting a quick glance at her lush bosom.
"Fred," she said, rolling her eyes. "You pig." But she was grinning.
"Really," said Alicia. "What is it with boys and breasts, anyway? What's so special about them?"
"What?" said George. "Boys or breasts?"
Alicia swatted him on the arm.
"They're special because they're soft and pretty and we don't have them," said Lee. "Which is just as well, because if we did, we'd never get anything done. We'd just be fondling them all the time."
"Too much information, Lee," said Alicia.
"You asked, didn't you?" said Lee.
"As fascinating as the subject of girl's body parts is," said Katie, "it looks like the Weird Sisters are setting up."
"Cool," said Fred. "Always wanted to hear them live."
Fred, Angelina and the rest of their table watched the band set up their instruments; the small tables cleared of food and dishes. Dumbledore stood up, indicating that everyone else do so, and when the whole of the Great Hall was on its feet, the small tables zoomed to the walls and out of the way, creating a huge dance floor.
In the next moment, the Weird Sisters began to play. It was a slow, sad kind of song, and Fred felt a rush of amusement to see the four Triwizard champions head out onto the floor to start dancing. Fred chuckled.
"Look at Harry," he said to Angelina. "Poor bloke doesn't have a clue what to do. Parvati's leading him."
"Well, he's not stepping on her feet, anyway," said Angelina.
"Can't say the same for Neville," said George, shaking his head. "Poor Ginny. Her feet'll swell up bigger than the rest of her before the night is over."
"Shall we, Angie?" said Fred, offering her his arm.
"Of course," she said, her eyes steadfastly avoiding Roger and Fleur.
They found an empty space on the floor, and began to dance. Or, at least, Angelina began to dance. Fred froze up. He realized that he didn't know how to do THIS kind of dancing. Slow dancing.
"Uh, Angie," he said uncertainly.
"Oh ho, so who needs leading now?" said Angelina, grinning. She took his right arm and wrapped it round her waist, then took his left hand in her right and placed her left hand round his shoulder, and slowly began to lead him in small circles.
"Ah," he said, grinning. "This isn't so bad."
It wasn't. It was nice. Very nice. Angelina smelled heavenly, she looked gorgeous, and he had to admit, he liked having his hand on her back. Unconsciously he felt it move and snake beneath her robes. She moved just a bit closer to him. He moved closer to her. Her arm moved round his neck. He felt her breath on his ear. Before he knew it, they were pressed together very tightly, her head resting on his shoulder.
Fred closed his eyes as he felt a familiar rush of blood to his lower regions and felt a tightening in his trousers. Sweet Merlin, he was aroused. Incredibly so. If she noticed, she didn't say anything. He didn't want to move. If he moved, she might feel his hardness against her. If she hadn't already.
It was wrong. She was his best mate. She was still mourning over Roger Davies. She needed Fred as a friend; the last thing she needed was for her best mate in the world to get all horny over her.
I can't help it, he thought. He couldn't. She looked so beautiful, and felt so wonderful in his arms, and smelled so good...
Please don't let her notice I'm hard as a rock.
She pressed closer to him and his erection brushed against her hip.
She noticed.
"Weasley," she murmured, her breath hot in his ear, "is that a wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" She chuckled.
"Not funny," he said, torn between wanting to pull away from her to calm the raging in his trousers and afraid that if he did, everyone would see something protruding from beneath his robes. At least she wasn't offended. At least she was reverting to their usual friendly, flirtatious, naughty banter.
"I'm flattered," she said, pulling her head off his shoulder and looking at him.
"I'm glad you're flattered," he said, grimacing. "I'm in a bit of pain, myself."
"Maybe you should think of Hagrid naked or something," she said, giggling.
"Yuck," said Fred. "I don't have to think of him naked, I can just look at him in that yeti costume he's wearing."
Fred did so, his eyes taking in Hagrid's awful, hairy brown suit, and he felt the swelling between his legs ease up. "Ah, much better."
"I had no idea I had such an effect on you, Weasley," Angelina teased.
"Give me a break," said Fred. "I haven't had any since Marietta, and you look fantastic and you smell delicious and...okay, I'm going to stop now, because I'm starting to stand at attention again." He looked resolutely at Hagrid, then at Mad-Eye Moody, and once again the swelling ebbed.
Angelina laughed. "Nasty buggers, hormones," she said.
"Aren't they, though?" said Fred, grinning. Okay, he'd survived that intact. Gotten an erection over his best mate and managed not to destroy their friendship. He was immensely relieved. Almost as relieved by her reaction as he was by the fact that his trousers weren't pressing on him anymore.
The music changed to a fast, exuberant tune, and Angelina, who was still laughing, began to dance. Fred joined in, not so much dancing as throwing his arms and legs around, and people quickly got out of their way.
Very soon Fred lost track of things. He realized he was having a good time, but not because of his dancing, if it could be called that. He was having a good time because Angelina was having a good time. She was laughing and twirling and for the first time, she was the girl he'd met all those years ago at the Sorting, the happy, fun-loving girl who hadn't had her heart broken by a cruel, selfish boy and hadn't had her confidence eroded by the fact that she was taller and more tomboyish than other girls.
As they danced, Fred forgot pretty much everything, except her. He couldn't quite understand the feeling that came over him to see her happy for a change. Only that it made him happy, too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Thank god," said Angelina, as she and Fred stepped out of the Great Hall and into the biting December air.
"Hot in there," said Fred, taking a deep swig of punch. Angelina took a sip of hers and patted her forehead with her handkerchief.
"Good workout, dancing," she said. "I must look a mess."
"No way," said Fred. "You look fantastic."
"Thanks," she said. "You don't look so bad yourself. I think the sweaty- hair look is definitely you."
"Sweaty, frozen hair, you mean," said Fred, touching his wet hair, which had indeed begun to freeze. "I could get a chill out here, you know."
"Not with this stuff," said Angelina, taking another sip of punch. "What'd you spike it with, anyway?"
"A little of this, a little of that," said Fred mischievously. "McGonagall's certainly loosened up some."
"It's good," said Angelina. "I feel warmer already."
"I thought that lovely flush in your cheeks wasn't just because of dancing," said Fred, giving her another of his affectionate chucks on the chin.
She smiled at him, but then her eyes moved to something behind him and seemed to freeze in place.
"What?" Fred asked, but somehow, he knew the answer.
He turned slowly, and followed her gaze to see Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies standing in the midst of a bare rose-bush, snogging heatedly. Fred turned back to Angelina hurriedly.
"Angelina--" he began.
"I'm fine," said Angelina. "I'm..." Her jaw was set and her eyes were wide and cold, but Fred saw it. The slightest quivering in her chin.
"I'm not fine," she said, tearing her eyes away from Fleur and Davies.
"Come on," he said firmly. "Let's go inside." He pulled her gently inside the castle and steered her back toward the Great Hall.
"More punch," she said, finding her feet and walking straight for the nearly overflowing punch bowl.
"Uh oh," Fred muttered, and he started after her, when suddenly a girl stepped into his path. The very last girl he wanted to see.
"Hello, Frederick."
"Marietta."
"Having a good time?" she asked sweetly.
"Lovely," said Fred. "So, which vampire agreed to come with you tonight?"
"Cute," said Marietta, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I always did hate your sense of humor, Frederick."
"I'm crushed, really," said Fred, his eyes on Angelina, who had already filled her cup once with punch, drained it and filled it again. At the rate she was going she'd be three sheets to the wind in a matter of minutes. Not good.
"So, Frederick, how are things going with Angelina?" said Marietta, twirling a lock of her blonde hair in her fingers. "I heard about her and Davies. Awful, really. She must have been so devastated--"
"Look, Marietta," said Fred hotly, annoyed and furious at the way she pretended to show concern for Angelina when in fact she felt no such thing, "I'm busy right now. Excuse me." He started toward Angelina and the punch bowl, but Marietta blocked his path.
"Right," said Marietta. "Taking care of poor Angelina. I'm sure a good shag from you will make her forget all about Roger."
"You really have no idea what you're talking about," said Fred. "Why don't you go find some other bloodsucking parasites to hang out with, yeah? I'm going to go hang out with my date. Goodbye."
He stalked away from her, trying to ignore her smug expression. He reached Angelina in time to see her filling her punch cup for a third time.
"Good stuff, this," she said, her words already slurring.
"Angie," said Fred, in a warning kind of voice. But he was so annoyed and angry at his confrontation with Marietta that part of him wanted to get good and drunk himself.
"Have some," she said, shoving her cup at him. "You look like you could use some, after talking to...what's her name."
"Angie, maybe we shouldn't--"
"Drown our sorrows?" said Angelina. "Nonsense. I'm having a lovely time, Fred. Feel like a million Galleons. I sure do hate to feel this good all by myself." She was speaking in measured phrases, like one who is trying to sound sober but not succeeding at it.
"Go on, have some," she said, smiling at him.
Fred took the cup and down the contents. "What the hell," he said, filling the cup again.