Chapter Fifteen: The Beginning of Something More
"Marietta Edgecombe?" said Fred. "She's the one who ratted us out?"
"Had to be," said Lee. "She's the only one who's got 'snitch' written in acne all over her face."
"Blimey," said George. "I can't believe she snitched on us."
"I can," said Fred darkly. "Stupid cow. Remind me to thank Hermione for that brilliant hex she put on Miss Edgecombe, yeah?"
Fred, Lee and George were sitting in their dormroom half-heartedly attempting their Transifiguration homework.
"I guess this mean's Umbridge is in charge," said George gloomily.
"With Dumbledore gone?" said Fred. "Yeah, I'd say so. Not like the Ministry is going to let McGonagall take over."
"Wonderful," said Lee. "So in addition to being a professor and 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor, that Umbridge bitch is Headmistress as well?"
"Looks that way," said Fred.
There was a glum silence as the three boys once again attempted their homework, but all of them gave up in disgust.
Fred, for his part, was in a foul mood only partly because of Dumbledore's flight and Marietta's betrayal. The main reason for his sullen demeanor was that, in the aftermath of the scene in the Quidditch tent, Angelina had been avoiding him. For the first time in all the years they'd known each other, Fred and Angelina weren't talking.
Their friendship was effectively finished. It wasn't entirely her fault, of course. She couldn't force herself to feel something for him that wasn't there. Fred had done the only thing he knew to keep himself from going mad. He'd cut himself off from her. It hurt too much to be around her and not be WITH her. He could not longer accept simple friendship from her, not when he had tasted the sweet bliss of her mouth against his, not when his every nerve ached to hold her and touch her and wake up next to her every morning. Friendship simply wasn't enough. If he couldn't be with her in the way he most wanted, he couldn't stand to be around her at all.
So Fred couldn't blame Angelina for, in the end, doing what he'd asked. He'd told her he couldn't be around her, and she had obliged him by doing all she could to avoid even being in the same room with him. Fred had hoped, initially, that her absence would ease the pain in his chest. It didn't. He couldn't be around her, but he couldn't stand not being around her either.
"There really isn't much worth staying here for, is there?" Fred said glumly. "No Quidditch, no Dumbledore, no Hogsmeade, no--"
"Angelina," said George, not looking up from his Transfiguration essay.
"George," said Lee warningly.
But Fred looked over at his twin and swallowed. "No Angie," he said.
Another silence. George and Lee looked at Fred sympathetically.
"It's her loss, mate," said Lee fervently.
"Definitely," said George.
Fred shook his head and smiled bitterly. "I keep trying to tell myself that." He paused. "Fuck it. I can't do bloody homework now. I'm too pissed off."
"THAT'S my brother," said George. "Angry is so much better than maudlin, if you ask me."
"Maudlin?" said Fred. "Since when did you have such a big vocabulary?"
"Alicia," said Lee, smirking. "She's trying to expand George's verbal horizons. I think she and Hermione must be related."
"Whatever," said George quickly, his ears reddening. "I'm pissed off, too, Twin."
"Me, three," said Lee.
"That Umbridge twat has ruined this place," said Fred. "Tomorrow she's going to be the one running things. I don't know if I can stand it."
"Who says we have to?" said George. He met Fred's eyes and grinned wickedly, and Fred grinned back. It was his first real smile in days.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he said.
"If you're thinking that it's high time the Umbridge toad got a little taste of Weasley revenge, then yeah," said George.
"Why make it a little taste?" said Fred. "Why not give her the Full Treatment?"
"Not like we have anything to lose," said George.
"Are you two serious?" said Lee, looking a bit nervous.
"Not usually, but in this case, yeah," said George. "Come on, Lee, Fred's right. What's the good of staying in this place now? For N.E.W.Ts?"
"If you leave before taking them your mum will do her nut," said Lee.
"Yeah, well, it won't be anything we haven't heard before," said Fred. "Look, the business is taking off. We've got loads of Galleons saved up; we're working out that lease for premises. We can start looking for our own flat, too. Live on our own. Make our own rules. What's the use of us staying here? To get some stupid diploma? What for?"
"You two are serious, aren't you?" said Lee. "About doing a runner."
"I wouldn't call it doing a runner," said George. "That implies cowardice."
"I'd call it cutting our losses," said Fred. "The joke shop is our future, Lee, and you know it. Not this academic bollocks."
"Maybe for you," said Lee. "And believe me, mates, I'm with you. But I have to stick round school. If I don't take my N.E.W.Ts my dad'll disown me or something."
"I don't think he's going to go for it, Fred," said George.
"Don't get me wrong," said Lee quickly. "I'm happy to make life difficult for Umbridge. I just want to finish out the school year."
"Fair enough," said Fred. "But I trust we have your assistance in getting a little rumble started."
"That's on," said Lee, grinning.
"Excellent," said George. "Let's make Umbridge's first day as Headmistress a day she'll never forget."
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"Do you really think it was a good idea to tell Ron and the others about this?" said George.
"Hey, it's for their own protection," said Fred. "And anyway, by the time we get done Umbridge'll be so busy running around trying to put out a million proverbial fires, she won't know who's done what."
"You're assuming the teachers are going to sit by and let you two destroy the school," said Lee.
"Oh, they'll stand by," said George. "Have you met ANYONE here who likes Umbridge apart from Filch and her little band of Slytherin sycophants?"
"True," Lee conceded.
"Better move off, Lee," said Fred. "We're ready to go. You don't want to be round here when these things go off."
"Right," said Lee. "Good luck, mates." He gave them the thumbs up and hurried down the corridor and out of sight.
Fred glanced at George and grinned. "Ready, Twin?"
"I was born ready," said George. They clapped hands, and then reached into their robes and pulled out their wands. Fred pointed it to the cluster of fireworks next to him.
"Incendio," he muttered. A spark shot from the end of his wand, and the long strings on the fireworks ignited and began to burn down. George did the same, with the same result.
"Excellent," said Fred. "Now let's go find us a good place to watch the mayhem."
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Umbridge's Day of Disaster went off better than Fred and George could ever have imagined. Not only did none of the other teachers bother to come to Umbridge's assistance, but many other students got in on the action as well. And the general chaos inspired Peeves to new heights of destruction. By the end of the day the entire school was in relative shambles, including Umbridge, who was last seen storming back to her office screeching at the top of her lungs and covered in soot, her hideous Alice band falling out of her frizzy hair and her robes torn.
The other teachers were all surprisingly calm about the events. They didn't seem to care about the numerous fireworks that zoomed and exploded about the corridors and outside on the grounds, nor did they bother to repair the damage to their own classrooms until the end of classes, which they were able to do with a simple wave of their wands.
"That's the last of them," said George wistfully as he watched from their dormitory the last stockpiles of their fireworks explode in the distance. "Bloody great things, those."
"We can make more," said Fred, grinning. "Damn, that was a good day. One for the history books." He patted his stomach, which was full and satisfied. The day's events had put him in a fairly good mood, for a change, and as a result his appetite had returned; he'd eaten his fill at dinner.
"You know you've done good when Hermione compliments your product," said George, grinning.
"At the end of the day, she hates Umbridge as much as the rest of us," said Fred. "Ron really needs to get off his arse and ask her out."
"Good news, chaps," said Lee, as he entered the dormitory. "We've got a dozen orders for the fireworks, and ALL of them have pre-paid!"
He tossed a small, clinking bag toward them, and Fred caught it.
"No way," said Fred, grinning, as he poured the contents of the bag onto his bed. "That's--"
"Almost forty Galleons," said George, grinning wildly.
"Too bad the Portable Swamps aren't quite ready," said Fred. "We could have taken in another forty for just a few of those."
"We'll save those for another time, yeah?" said George. "Don't want to overwhelm poor Umbridge or anything."
"Yeah, we do," said Fred.
"You're right, we do," said George.
"Great day," said Lee. "School's almost fun again. Even Snape was almost.cool."
"Bite your tongue," said Fred.
"What? He didn't have much to say about what happened today, did he?" said Lee. "He stood by like all the other teachers and let Umbridge sweat."
"Yeah, well," said George, "we'll see how long that lasts. Considering how cozy some of Snape's little Slytherins are getting with the Evil Bitch from Hell."
"In the meantime," said Fred, "let's count our money, shall we?"
"Now THAT always keeps me in a good mood," said George.
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Fred's good mood didn't last long. The glow of having made Umbridge's first day impossible faded the moment he saw Angelina next day at breakfast, and very quickly he was wallowing in his own misery again. She was still avoiding him, but had taken to giving him shy, painful little smiles from across the table during mealtimes, or whenever they would pass in the corridors. It was agony. The desire to leave Hogwarts for good began to press on Fred almost as badly as the pain of being in love with Angelina.
It was a few weeks later when Fred was sitting in the common room that the perfect opportunity to leave the school came to him and George in the form of their little sister.
"Fred? George?"
The twins looked up from their order forms. Ginny was standing next to the fire, looking at them a bit apprehensively.
"What's up, Gin?" said Fred.
"It's Harry," said Ginny slowly.
"I knew you were still crushing on him," said George absently.
"I'm not," said Ginny, sounding annoyed. "Look, we had a bit of a talk in the library and he told me he really needs to talk to Sirius."
"What does this have to do with us?" said Fred, filling in another order for a Skiving Snackbox.
"I told him you two might be able to help," said Ginny coolly.
"Oh, lovely," said George. "Volunteering our rule breaking services, are you?"
"Come on," said Ginny. "You two are the only ones who could pull it off."
"What are we supposed to pull off?" said Fred.
"Get Umbridge out of her office so Harry can use her fire," said Ginny easily.
"Oh, is that all?" said George, rolling his eyes.
"That's it," said Ginny. "Unless, of course, you think you can't really do it. Unless you're afraid or something--"
"Bite your tongue!" said George.
"Fear is not in our vocabulary, baby sister," said Fred.
"Well, then, it shouldn't be any trouble for you to get Harry into The Toad's office safely so he can use her fireplace to contact Sirius," said Ginny.
Fred stared at his little sister. She had been full of surprises this year. First her talent with flying (which she'd learned by stealing their brooms from the time she was six and flying in secret), and now this. The shy, clumsy little girl who'd been their sister was nowhere to be found. In her place was a rather confident, cool young woman with an easy penchant for mischief. Fred was impressed.
"Look at her," said Fred fondly. "Our little sister. I think we've rubbed off on her, Twin."
"I hope so," said George. "We need another trouble-maker in this place, now Ron's a prefect."
Fred grinned at Ginny. "I think George and I can arrange a little distraction for Madam Umbridge."
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"Ha! Perfection!" said Fred triumphantly, as he, George and Lee looked over the tiny Portable Swamp laid out on the common room table. "Just a couple of Engorgement Charms and we're good to go."
"I dunno about this, mates," said Lee. "Umbridge is on the warpath. She's got half of Slytherin doing her dirty work for her. You could get caught."
"That's the plan," said George.
"You're PLANNING on getting caught?" said Lee incredulously. He looked from one twin to the other, and then understood. "I get it. You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Tomorrow's as good a time as any," said Fred.
"Did you two just decide on this or have you been planning it all along?" said Lee, sounding a bit resentful.
"Just came to us," said George, "when Ginny asked us to help Harry."
"No point in hanging out here any longer, anyway," said Fred, feeling his grumpiness return.
"Just because Angelina's not talking to you--"
"That's not all, Lee, and you know it," Fred snapped. Lee scowled, and Fred's face fell. "Sorry, mate."
"Look, Lee," said George, "it's over for the two of us. We'll go mad if we have to spend another day in here."
"We'd fail the N.E.W.Ts anyway," Fred said.
"And this way, we can make a nice, dramatic exit," said George heartily, clapping Lee on the back.
"Give the school something to remember us by," said Fred.
"Like anyone's going to forget you two in a hurry," said Lee, smiling a begrudging smile.
"I think Lee's going to miss us, bro," said George.
"Aw, that's so sweet," said Fred.
"Shut it," said Lee, swatting both of them on the back of the head.
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Fred rolled up his order forms and shoved them into the pocket of his robes, which were draped over his desk chair. He had packed most of his things into his trunk, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to take his trunk with him. He also knew that Umbridge would almost certainly try to get inside his trunk once he was gone (and George's as well); as such, he and George had given their remaining joke things to Ginny for safe-keeping. In the meantime, Fred would use every Locking Charm in his arsenal to lock up his trunk. They wouldn't last forever--Umbridge would get into his trunk eventually--but in the meantime he'd make it difficult for her.
Fred looked around the dorm room. It was odd, really, that this would be his last night to sleep in it. He'd miss his four-poster bed; he'd miss goofing off with Lee and George into all hours of the night. He'd miss the common room, where he and George and Lee had done some of their best inventing and scheming. He'd even miss lessons, just a little (well, not Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts), if only because the teachers had been fond of him.
He'd miss Angelina.
Fred swallowed a lump in his throat. It was better this way, he told himself. Away from here I can REALLY avoid seeing her. Putting some physical distance between her and me might make this damn pain in my chest go away.
Without Angelina to distract him, he could focus fully on getting the joke shop ready. The premises were all set; all that was left to be done was to move in and set the place up. He and George would spend the next several months rebuilding their stocks of inventions and putting together an inventory. Finally, they could get out of the mail-order business and do real retail.
He and George had saved up enough money to look for a flat, as well; they'd take a room in the Leaky Cauldron while they looked for a new place to live. Going home to the Burrow was out of the question; Mum would go ballistic if they showed up on her doorstep. And Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was not an option as far as Fred was concerned. Too depressing, too secretive.
Yes, Fred thought, everything will be better once I'm out of here. And his and George's parting gift to Umbridge would be the proverbial icing on the cake.
Fred's reverie was sharply interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said, turning to his desk to put his quill into his robe pocket.
"Hi."
Fred whirled around at the sound of her voice. In the dim light of the dormitory room she was study of light and shadows. Her long, tiny braids were pulled back with a ribbon. She was wearing white pajamas and a robe that set off her creamy brown skin.
"Angie," he said, his voice feeling strangled.
He hadn't been this close to her in weeks. Now she was ten feet away from him, and they were alone in his room. The ache in his chest was almost unbearable. What could she possibly want? Didn't she see how she was torturing him?
"You're leaving," she said quietly, her face blank.
"Yeah," said Fred. "Who told you?"
"Alicia," she said.
"Of course," he said.
"George is with her," said Angelina. "Somewhere."
"Right," said Fred. Having a farewell shag, no doubt. He looked at the floor.
"What do you want, Angie?" Fred asked wearily, not caring if he sounded rude or not.
"I just--" she began, then stopped. "I wish you wouldn't go."
Fred shook his head. "Do you? Why?"
"You know why," she said, and her voice began to tremble.
"I don't think I do," said Fred, looking up at her, feeling the anger inside him bubble. "Why don't you enlighten me."
"Fred, please," she said in a pleading voice, and her eyes sparkled with tears; her lush lower lip began to quiver.
"Please, what?" said Fred harshly. "Have you come to beg me to stick around, is that it?"
"I will if I have to," she said, lifting her chin, but her voice was shaking even more now.
"Save it," said Fred. "I've already said to you everything I meant to say, and I think I've heard enough from you." He turned away from her, furious at himself for having fallen in love with her, furious with her for playing with his emotions like this.
"Fred, please don't go," she whispered.
"Why not?" he said angrily, his voice rising. "Don't you get it, Angie? I'm not meant to be here anymore. There's nothing keeping me here, d'you understand? Nothing."
"But--"
"No!" said Fred, facing her again, crossing to her so that they stood only two feet apart. "I'm not doing this anymore, Angie. I love you and you don't love me and I'm not going to stick around here and torture myself, get it? I can't...I can't even look at you anymore, because every time I do it fucking hurts."
"Fred, please--"
"I'm sorry I went and ruined our friendship, okay?" said Fred, as though she hadn't spoken. "I'm sorry I can't be around you anymore. I tried, I really did. But I can't do it. Maybe a year from now I'll be able to look at you without feeling like I'm dying inside but right now I can't."
"Dammit, Fred, will you listen to me?" she cried angrily. There were tears on her face now.
Good, Fred thought. Let her bloody cry. If she's hurting even half as much as me, so much the better.
"What?" he said. "What could you possibly say to me that you haven't already said?"
There was long silence as they stared at one another. Fred's heart was pounding; the ache in his chest was so severe he wondered whether his heart would burst.
"I don't want to be your friend anymore," she said.
"Gee, thanks," said Fred. "I'm glad we're in agreement on one thing. Now if you'll excuse me." He started to turn away.
But she placed her hands on his face and pulled him to her, sealing his lips with her own.
Fred felt his throat constrict as their lips touched, and for a moment he leaned into the kiss, forgetting everything but the sensation of her mouth.
But then he remembered himself. Remembered that she had hurt him and that he was angry with her.
And here she was, playing with him, when he'd already spilled his guts out to her, confessed everything, laid bare his very soul. He felt anger rise up in him like sour bile.
He pulled away from her roughly but kept his hands on her shoulders, gripping them tightly.
"Damn you," he said angrily, his voice pushing past the lump in his throat. "Don't you do this."
"Fred, please," she whispered, and she put her hands on his face again, caressing his rough, scratchy cheeks. "I want."
Her voice trailed off and she began to kiss his face, his jaw, with her petal-soft lips. Fred felt a rush of blood to his groin, a constricting pain in his chest. Lust and love and pain were squeezing him and making him feel almost sick. He groaned when he felt her lips on his neck.
"Don't you do this," he said again, trying to summon enough anger to overcome the sudden, powerful arousal he was feeling. He wanted to push her away, but instead his arms went round her waist.
"Don't do this unless you mean it," he added, but it was pointless. Her mouth was on his ear, her tongue tracing the shape of it, her breath hot and sweet. He was drowning already.
"I do mean it," she whispered, dragging her lips back across his roughened cheek and bringing them to rest just inches from his.
His hands moved to grip either side of her face and he stared into her eyes. They were still shiny with unshed tears, and she was trembling like a leaf.
"Say it, then," he said fiercely. "Say it."
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
"I love you," she whispered. Her hands were on his face again. "I love you."
In his imagination, Fred had always pictured himself doing cartwheels or jumping up and down like a git or otherwise displaying some very jubilant display of delight and laughter upon hearing her say the words. But now he was so tired, so exposed, so completely caught up in love and lust and anger and relief and a million other emotions that he found his eyes burning. He was weak with wanting her.
"Bloody hell," he rasped, before pulling her roughly against him and kissing her hungrily.
He heard a gasp in her throat and felt her arms wrap round his neck as his mouth claimed hers. Their mouths opened and Fred groaned when he felt her tongue against his. Her hands tangled in his hair as the kiss deepened. It was a million times better than it had been in the Quidditch tent. Fred forgot about everything but her mouth and how it felt and tasted. He forgot about breathing, and it was only when he felt her go half-limp in his arms and heard her whimper, and felt a powerful dizziness settle over him, that he pulled his lips away.
"Merlin," he gasped. He took a deep breath and fought for some measure of control.
"Fred," Angelina whispered weakly. She was leaning against him and her eyes were glazed and her lips red. "Make love to me. Please."
Fred felt a throbbing in his trousers and he blinked. "Now?"
"Now."
"Marietta Edgecombe?" said Fred. "She's the one who ratted us out?"
"Had to be," said Lee. "She's the only one who's got 'snitch' written in acne all over her face."
"Blimey," said George. "I can't believe she snitched on us."
"I can," said Fred darkly. "Stupid cow. Remind me to thank Hermione for that brilliant hex she put on Miss Edgecombe, yeah?"
Fred, Lee and George were sitting in their dormroom half-heartedly attempting their Transifiguration homework.
"I guess this mean's Umbridge is in charge," said George gloomily.
"With Dumbledore gone?" said Fred. "Yeah, I'd say so. Not like the Ministry is going to let McGonagall take over."
"Wonderful," said Lee. "So in addition to being a professor and 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor, that Umbridge bitch is Headmistress as well?"
"Looks that way," said Fred.
There was a glum silence as the three boys once again attempted their homework, but all of them gave up in disgust.
Fred, for his part, was in a foul mood only partly because of Dumbledore's flight and Marietta's betrayal. The main reason for his sullen demeanor was that, in the aftermath of the scene in the Quidditch tent, Angelina had been avoiding him. For the first time in all the years they'd known each other, Fred and Angelina weren't talking.
Their friendship was effectively finished. It wasn't entirely her fault, of course. She couldn't force herself to feel something for him that wasn't there. Fred had done the only thing he knew to keep himself from going mad. He'd cut himself off from her. It hurt too much to be around her and not be WITH her. He could not longer accept simple friendship from her, not when he had tasted the sweet bliss of her mouth against his, not when his every nerve ached to hold her and touch her and wake up next to her every morning. Friendship simply wasn't enough. If he couldn't be with her in the way he most wanted, he couldn't stand to be around her at all.
So Fred couldn't blame Angelina for, in the end, doing what he'd asked. He'd told her he couldn't be around her, and she had obliged him by doing all she could to avoid even being in the same room with him. Fred had hoped, initially, that her absence would ease the pain in his chest. It didn't. He couldn't be around her, but he couldn't stand not being around her either.
"There really isn't much worth staying here for, is there?" Fred said glumly. "No Quidditch, no Dumbledore, no Hogsmeade, no--"
"Angelina," said George, not looking up from his Transfiguration essay.
"George," said Lee warningly.
But Fred looked over at his twin and swallowed. "No Angie," he said.
Another silence. George and Lee looked at Fred sympathetically.
"It's her loss, mate," said Lee fervently.
"Definitely," said George.
Fred shook his head and smiled bitterly. "I keep trying to tell myself that." He paused. "Fuck it. I can't do bloody homework now. I'm too pissed off."
"THAT'S my brother," said George. "Angry is so much better than maudlin, if you ask me."
"Maudlin?" said Fred. "Since when did you have such a big vocabulary?"
"Alicia," said Lee, smirking. "She's trying to expand George's verbal horizons. I think she and Hermione must be related."
"Whatever," said George quickly, his ears reddening. "I'm pissed off, too, Twin."
"Me, three," said Lee.
"That Umbridge twat has ruined this place," said Fred. "Tomorrow she's going to be the one running things. I don't know if I can stand it."
"Who says we have to?" said George. He met Fred's eyes and grinned wickedly, and Fred grinned back. It was his first real smile in days.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he said.
"If you're thinking that it's high time the Umbridge toad got a little taste of Weasley revenge, then yeah," said George.
"Why make it a little taste?" said Fred. "Why not give her the Full Treatment?"
"Not like we have anything to lose," said George.
"Are you two serious?" said Lee, looking a bit nervous.
"Not usually, but in this case, yeah," said George. "Come on, Lee, Fred's right. What's the good of staying in this place now? For N.E.W.Ts?"
"If you leave before taking them your mum will do her nut," said Lee.
"Yeah, well, it won't be anything we haven't heard before," said Fred. "Look, the business is taking off. We've got loads of Galleons saved up; we're working out that lease for premises. We can start looking for our own flat, too. Live on our own. Make our own rules. What's the use of us staying here? To get some stupid diploma? What for?"
"You two are serious, aren't you?" said Lee. "About doing a runner."
"I wouldn't call it doing a runner," said George. "That implies cowardice."
"I'd call it cutting our losses," said Fred. "The joke shop is our future, Lee, and you know it. Not this academic bollocks."
"Maybe for you," said Lee. "And believe me, mates, I'm with you. But I have to stick round school. If I don't take my N.E.W.Ts my dad'll disown me or something."
"I don't think he's going to go for it, Fred," said George.
"Don't get me wrong," said Lee quickly. "I'm happy to make life difficult for Umbridge. I just want to finish out the school year."
"Fair enough," said Fred. "But I trust we have your assistance in getting a little rumble started."
"That's on," said Lee, grinning.
"Excellent," said George. "Let's make Umbridge's first day as Headmistress a day she'll never forget."
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"Do you really think it was a good idea to tell Ron and the others about this?" said George.
"Hey, it's for their own protection," said Fred. "And anyway, by the time we get done Umbridge'll be so busy running around trying to put out a million proverbial fires, she won't know who's done what."
"You're assuming the teachers are going to sit by and let you two destroy the school," said Lee.
"Oh, they'll stand by," said George. "Have you met ANYONE here who likes Umbridge apart from Filch and her little band of Slytherin sycophants?"
"True," Lee conceded.
"Better move off, Lee," said Fred. "We're ready to go. You don't want to be round here when these things go off."
"Right," said Lee. "Good luck, mates." He gave them the thumbs up and hurried down the corridor and out of sight.
Fred glanced at George and grinned. "Ready, Twin?"
"I was born ready," said George. They clapped hands, and then reached into their robes and pulled out their wands. Fred pointed it to the cluster of fireworks next to him.
"Incendio," he muttered. A spark shot from the end of his wand, and the long strings on the fireworks ignited and began to burn down. George did the same, with the same result.
"Excellent," said Fred. "Now let's go find us a good place to watch the mayhem."
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Umbridge's Day of Disaster went off better than Fred and George could ever have imagined. Not only did none of the other teachers bother to come to Umbridge's assistance, but many other students got in on the action as well. And the general chaos inspired Peeves to new heights of destruction. By the end of the day the entire school was in relative shambles, including Umbridge, who was last seen storming back to her office screeching at the top of her lungs and covered in soot, her hideous Alice band falling out of her frizzy hair and her robes torn.
The other teachers were all surprisingly calm about the events. They didn't seem to care about the numerous fireworks that zoomed and exploded about the corridors and outside on the grounds, nor did they bother to repair the damage to their own classrooms until the end of classes, which they were able to do with a simple wave of their wands.
"That's the last of them," said George wistfully as he watched from their dormitory the last stockpiles of their fireworks explode in the distance. "Bloody great things, those."
"We can make more," said Fred, grinning. "Damn, that was a good day. One for the history books." He patted his stomach, which was full and satisfied. The day's events had put him in a fairly good mood, for a change, and as a result his appetite had returned; he'd eaten his fill at dinner.
"You know you've done good when Hermione compliments your product," said George, grinning.
"At the end of the day, she hates Umbridge as much as the rest of us," said Fred. "Ron really needs to get off his arse and ask her out."
"Good news, chaps," said Lee, as he entered the dormitory. "We've got a dozen orders for the fireworks, and ALL of them have pre-paid!"
He tossed a small, clinking bag toward them, and Fred caught it.
"No way," said Fred, grinning, as he poured the contents of the bag onto his bed. "That's--"
"Almost forty Galleons," said George, grinning wildly.
"Too bad the Portable Swamps aren't quite ready," said Fred. "We could have taken in another forty for just a few of those."
"We'll save those for another time, yeah?" said George. "Don't want to overwhelm poor Umbridge or anything."
"Yeah, we do," said Fred.
"You're right, we do," said George.
"Great day," said Lee. "School's almost fun again. Even Snape was almost.cool."
"Bite your tongue," said Fred.
"What? He didn't have much to say about what happened today, did he?" said Lee. "He stood by like all the other teachers and let Umbridge sweat."
"Yeah, well," said George, "we'll see how long that lasts. Considering how cozy some of Snape's little Slytherins are getting with the Evil Bitch from Hell."
"In the meantime," said Fred, "let's count our money, shall we?"
"Now THAT always keeps me in a good mood," said George.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fred's good mood didn't last long. The glow of having made Umbridge's first day impossible faded the moment he saw Angelina next day at breakfast, and very quickly he was wallowing in his own misery again. She was still avoiding him, but had taken to giving him shy, painful little smiles from across the table during mealtimes, or whenever they would pass in the corridors. It was agony. The desire to leave Hogwarts for good began to press on Fred almost as badly as the pain of being in love with Angelina.
It was a few weeks later when Fred was sitting in the common room that the perfect opportunity to leave the school came to him and George in the form of their little sister.
"Fred? George?"
The twins looked up from their order forms. Ginny was standing next to the fire, looking at them a bit apprehensively.
"What's up, Gin?" said Fred.
"It's Harry," said Ginny slowly.
"I knew you were still crushing on him," said George absently.
"I'm not," said Ginny, sounding annoyed. "Look, we had a bit of a talk in the library and he told me he really needs to talk to Sirius."
"What does this have to do with us?" said Fred, filling in another order for a Skiving Snackbox.
"I told him you two might be able to help," said Ginny coolly.
"Oh, lovely," said George. "Volunteering our rule breaking services, are you?"
"Come on," said Ginny. "You two are the only ones who could pull it off."
"What are we supposed to pull off?" said Fred.
"Get Umbridge out of her office so Harry can use her fire," said Ginny easily.
"Oh, is that all?" said George, rolling his eyes.
"That's it," said Ginny. "Unless, of course, you think you can't really do it. Unless you're afraid or something--"
"Bite your tongue!" said George.
"Fear is not in our vocabulary, baby sister," said Fred.
"Well, then, it shouldn't be any trouble for you to get Harry into The Toad's office safely so he can use her fireplace to contact Sirius," said Ginny.
Fred stared at his little sister. She had been full of surprises this year. First her talent with flying (which she'd learned by stealing their brooms from the time she was six and flying in secret), and now this. The shy, clumsy little girl who'd been their sister was nowhere to be found. In her place was a rather confident, cool young woman with an easy penchant for mischief. Fred was impressed.
"Look at her," said Fred fondly. "Our little sister. I think we've rubbed off on her, Twin."
"I hope so," said George. "We need another trouble-maker in this place, now Ron's a prefect."
Fred grinned at Ginny. "I think George and I can arrange a little distraction for Madam Umbridge."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ha! Perfection!" said Fred triumphantly, as he, George and Lee looked over the tiny Portable Swamp laid out on the common room table. "Just a couple of Engorgement Charms and we're good to go."
"I dunno about this, mates," said Lee. "Umbridge is on the warpath. She's got half of Slytherin doing her dirty work for her. You could get caught."
"That's the plan," said George.
"You're PLANNING on getting caught?" said Lee incredulously. He looked from one twin to the other, and then understood. "I get it. You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Tomorrow's as good a time as any," said Fred.
"Did you two just decide on this or have you been planning it all along?" said Lee, sounding a bit resentful.
"Just came to us," said George, "when Ginny asked us to help Harry."
"No point in hanging out here any longer, anyway," said Fred, feeling his grumpiness return.
"Just because Angelina's not talking to you--"
"That's not all, Lee, and you know it," Fred snapped. Lee scowled, and Fred's face fell. "Sorry, mate."
"Look, Lee," said George, "it's over for the two of us. We'll go mad if we have to spend another day in here."
"We'd fail the N.E.W.Ts anyway," Fred said.
"And this way, we can make a nice, dramatic exit," said George heartily, clapping Lee on the back.
"Give the school something to remember us by," said Fred.
"Like anyone's going to forget you two in a hurry," said Lee, smiling a begrudging smile.
"I think Lee's going to miss us, bro," said George.
"Aw, that's so sweet," said Fred.
"Shut it," said Lee, swatting both of them on the back of the head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fred rolled up his order forms and shoved them into the pocket of his robes, which were draped over his desk chair. He had packed most of his things into his trunk, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to take his trunk with him. He also knew that Umbridge would almost certainly try to get inside his trunk once he was gone (and George's as well); as such, he and George had given their remaining joke things to Ginny for safe-keeping. In the meantime, Fred would use every Locking Charm in his arsenal to lock up his trunk. They wouldn't last forever--Umbridge would get into his trunk eventually--but in the meantime he'd make it difficult for her.
Fred looked around the dorm room. It was odd, really, that this would be his last night to sleep in it. He'd miss his four-poster bed; he'd miss goofing off with Lee and George into all hours of the night. He'd miss the common room, where he and George and Lee had done some of their best inventing and scheming. He'd even miss lessons, just a little (well, not Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts), if only because the teachers had been fond of him.
He'd miss Angelina.
Fred swallowed a lump in his throat. It was better this way, he told himself. Away from here I can REALLY avoid seeing her. Putting some physical distance between her and me might make this damn pain in my chest go away.
Without Angelina to distract him, he could focus fully on getting the joke shop ready. The premises were all set; all that was left to be done was to move in and set the place up. He and George would spend the next several months rebuilding their stocks of inventions and putting together an inventory. Finally, they could get out of the mail-order business and do real retail.
He and George had saved up enough money to look for a flat, as well; they'd take a room in the Leaky Cauldron while they looked for a new place to live. Going home to the Burrow was out of the question; Mum would go ballistic if they showed up on her doorstep. And Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was not an option as far as Fred was concerned. Too depressing, too secretive.
Yes, Fred thought, everything will be better once I'm out of here. And his and George's parting gift to Umbridge would be the proverbial icing on the cake.
Fred's reverie was sharply interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said, turning to his desk to put his quill into his robe pocket.
"Hi."
Fred whirled around at the sound of her voice. In the dim light of the dormitory room she was study of light and shadows. Her long, tiny braids were pulled back with a ribbon. She was wearing white pajamas and a robe that set off her creamy brown skin.
"Angie," he said, his voice feeling strangled.
He hadn't been this close to her in weeks. Now she was ten feet away from him, and they were alone in his room. The ache in his chest was almost unbearable. What could she possibly want? Didn't she see how she was torturing him?
"You're leaving," she said quietly, her face blank.
"Yeah," said Fred. "Who told you?"
"Alicia," she said.
"Of course," he said.
"George is with her," said Angelina. "Somewhere."
"Right," said Fred. Having a farewell shag, no doubt. He looked at the floor.
"What do you want, Angie?" Fred asked wearily, not caring if he sounded rude or not.
"I just--" she began, then stopped. "I wish you wouldn't go."
Fred shook his head. "Do you? Why?"
"You know why," she said, and her voice began to tremble.
"I don't think I do," said Fred, looking up at her, feeling the anger inside him bubble. "Why don't you enlighten me."
"Fred, please," she said in a pleading voice, and her eyes sparkled with tears; her lush lower lip began to quiver.
"Please, what?" said Fred harshly. "Have you come to beg me to stick around, is that it?"
"I will if I have to," she said, lifting her chin, but her voice was shaking even more now.
"Save it," said Fred. "I've already said to you everything I meant to say, and I think I've heard enough from you." He turned away from her, furious at himself for having fallen in love with her, furious with her for playing with his emotions like this.
"Fred, please don't go," she whispered.
"Why not?" he said angrily, his voice rising. "Don't you get it, Angie? I'm not meant to be here anymore. There's nothing keeping me here, d'you understand? Nothing."
"But--"
"No!" said Fred, facing her again, crossing to her so that they stood only two feet apart. "I'm not doing this anymore, Angie. I love you and you don't love me and I'm not going to stick around here and torture myself, get it? I can't...I can't even look at you anymore, because every time I do it fucking hurts."
"Fred, please--"
"I'm sorry I went and ruined our friendship, okay?" said Fred, as though she hadn't spoken. "I'm sorry I can't be around you anymore. I tried, I really did. But I can't do it. Maybe a year from now I'll be able to look at you without feeling like I'm dying inside but right now I can't."
"Dammit, Fred, will you listen to me?" she cried angrily. There were tears on her face now.
Good, Fred thought. Let her bloody cry. If she's hurting even half as much as me, so much the better.
"What?" he said. "What could you possibly say to me that you haven't already said?"
There was long silence as they stared at one another. Fred's heart was pounding; the ache in his chest was so severe he wondered whether his heart would burst.
"I don't want to be your friend anymore," she said.
"Gee, thanks," said Fred. "I'm glad we're in agreement on one thing. Now if you'll excuse me." He started to turn away.
But she placed her hands on his face and pulled him to her, sealing his lips with her own.
Fred felt his throat constrict as their lips touched, and for a moment he leaned into the kiss, forgetting everything but the sensation of her mouth.
But then he remembered himself. Remembered that she had hurt him and that he was angry with her.
And here she was, playing with him, when he'd already spilled his guts out to her, confessed everything, laid bare his very soul. He felt anger rise up in him like sour bile.
He pulled away from her roughly but kept his hands on her shoulders, gripping them tightly.
"Damn you," he said angrily, his voice pushing past the lump in his throat. "Don't you do this."
"Fred, please," she whispered, and she put her hands on his face again, caressing his rough, scratchy cheeks. "I want."
Her voice trailed off and she began to kiss his face, his jaw, with her petal-soft lips. Fred felt a rush of blood to his groin, a constricting pain in his chest. Lust and love and pain were squeezing him and making him feel almost sick. He groaned when he felt her lips on his neck.
"Don't you do this," he said again, trying to summon enough anger to overcome the sudden, powerful arousal he was feeling. He wanted to push her away, but instead his arms went round her waist.
"Don't do this unless you mean it," he added, but it was pointless. Her mouth was on his ear, her tongue tracing the shape of it, her breath hot and sweet. He was drowning already.
"I do mean it," she whispered, dragging her lips back across his roughened cheek and bringing them to rest just inches from his.
His hands moved to grip either side of her face and he stared into her eyes. They were still shiny with unshed tears, and she was trembling like a leaf.
"Say it, then," he said fiercely. "Say it."
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
"I love you," she whispered. Her hands were on his face again. "I love you."
In his imagination, Fred had always pictured himself doing cartwheels or jumping up and down like a git or otherwise displaying some very jubilant display of delight and laughter upon hearing her say the words. But now he was so tired, so exposed, so completely caught up in love and lust and anger and relief and a million other emotions that he found his eyes burning. He was weak with wanting her.
"Bloody hell," he rasped, before pulling her roughly against him and kissing her hungrily.
He heard a gasp in her throat and felt her arms wrap round his neck as his mouth claimed hers. Their mouths opened and Fred groaned when he felt her tongue against his. Her hands tangled in his hair as the kiss deepened. It was a million times better than it had been in the Quidditch tent. Fred forgot about everything but her mouth and how it felt and tasted. He forgot about breathing, and it was only when he felt her go half-limp in his arms and heard her whimper, and felt a powerful dizziness settle over him, that he pulled his lips away.
"Merlin," he gasped. He took a deep breath and fought for some measure of control.
"Fred," Angelina whispered weakly. She was leaning against him and her eyes were glazed and her lips red. "Make love to me. Please."
Fred felt a throbbing in his trousers and he blinked. "Now?"
"Now."