-A/N: Thanks for the positive and encouraging feedback. I appreciate it more than you know. I hope you're all having a safe and exciting summer!
September 24
History of Magic
So let me just say, once and for all, that Frederick Weasley is about the most annoying git I've ever met but wins me over with that irresistible grin every time. There really is something wrong with me, I tell you.
After dinner, Fred and I reported to the dungeon's to serve Snape's detention. Fred kept trying to crack jokes but I was so ticked off that I had gotten a detention in the first place, that I gave him the cold shoulder.
By the time we had gotten to Snape's classroom, Fred had stopped talking. I think he could tell I wasn't up to the usual Weasley jesting. I shoved open the door, not caring if it hit Fred in the face, then took a seat in front of the greasy haired git's desk. Snape was wearing his usual sneer, his hands folded in front of him and resting on the desk. His sneer widened when a few seconds later, Fred barreled in.
Fred sighed, threw me a half-smile, then pulled up a seat next to me. Snape arose and commenced to smugly pace before us, eyeing us coolly.
"There has been a staff meeting, so unfortunately, I cannot stay for the duration of your detention," he informed.
I stifled a chuckle as I heard Fred sardonically mutter, "Well that just breaks my heart."
Snape halted in his tracks to glare at Fred, then resumed pacing up and down, like he was some valiant commander of an army.
"Therefore, despite the fact I will not be present, your punishment will be undergone, nevertheless. If I come back to this room and find you two have blatantly disregarded my orders, another detention will suffice. Your punishment for tonight will be to scrub all the cauldrons and work areas then clean and alphabetically file the potions cabinet."
Fred started to reach into his pocket for his wand and Snape coldly snickered.
"Unfortunately for you, a requirement is no magic of any sort. There are some cleaning products and rubber gloves on my desk. These are the only tools I expect you two to use," Snape sternly ordained.
He sharply stalked towards the door, swung it open, and then turned back to Fred and me.
"I expect that everything will be spotless on my return. You have two hours. Don't dawdle."
And with that last order, he swept out of the room and up the hallway; the door clicking shut behind him. At this, Fred put his feet up on the desk and stretched his hands behind his head and cradled it, looking perfectly at ease. He offered me a lopsided grin, the familiar sparkle of mischief and rebellion back in his eye.
"Two hours? What do you say you and me get a quick bite to eat down in the kitchens? I bet the house elves still have some desserts left over from tonight."
I shook my head and brushed past him, lightly pushing his feet back to the stone floor.
"Absolutely not. You're the one who got me into this mess in the first place. I don't fancy another detention," I roughly replied.
I stopped at Snape's desk and let out a bitter sigh of frustration. The "cleaning tools" were a couple of toothbrushes, a small roll of paper towels, the rubber gloves and a rag.
Cleaning up was going to be hell on Earth. Especially since Fred insisted on procrastination. I snatched a toothbrush from the desk and threw it at him. He easily caught it, though I was hoping it would have smacked him in the face.
"Aw, Angie, c'mon! Stop being so uptight. We'll be down there for like five minutes, ten tops," Fred assured, the grin still intact.
I scowled at him and picked up a toothbrush and the roll of paper towels for myself. I stalked towards a group of cauldrons in the back of the classroom and ardently and maliciously began scrubbing at its inside. I glanced over my shoulder at him, wondering why I had fallen for a total idiot.
"Don't "Aw Angie," me! You better help me or I'll tell that new girlfriend of yours, Maria Whats-Her-Face that you suck your thumb at night."
Much to my silent protest, Fred had started dating some HufflePuff twit, who was much classified for the "Giggly Gang." She was curvy and bottle blonde, with legs for days. She was beautiful all right, but it certainly was her only and best asset. She was annoyingly perky, like someone who's living solely on caffeine pills.
Lacking all common sense, the twit possessed a squeaky, high voice that reminded me of a yelping cat tossed out a window. Personally, I think all that peroxide she used to dye her hair had leaked into her brain, if you catch my drift.
I had been discussing the estranged relationship with Lee, in account of almost losing my lunch when witnessing Fred and Miss Perky engaged in an unnecessary game of tonsil hockey. I was venting my confusion to Lee, as to why Fred would date such an airhead and how it defied all natural laws of element. Lee, much to my surprise, got all philosophical and wise. He figured that the only reason why Fred dated such morons was because they were
1. Easy (ew!)
AND
2. Fool-Proof
The first part I completely comprehended and really didn't need to hear. The second part I was a little unsure. Lee explained it further. He said that girls like Maria didn't carry the risk of developing a further relationship and in turn, having Fred get hurt. Lee didn't want to share too much, but he said that Fred was afraid of having a real relationship because he didn't was afraid to fall in love.
I probably would have gotten more out of him, but then Katie walked by and Lee ran up to go chase after her. Ever since Katie's been giving Lee the old nonchalant act, he's been getting really irked. At least one of us is having success.
I stared back at Fred, wondering why he was such a mystery. We'd been close friends for so long, but there was still another side of him I couldn't unlock.
He chuckled, sauntered over to Snape's desk and gingerly picked up a pair of rubber gloves, as though it would bite him.
"Go ahead, I wouldn't care. We broke up last week. Or actually, I broke up with her," he casually informed.
I turned my back on him and continued to scrub at the cauldron, though fairly interested.
"Why? Not like I care or anything," I hastily added.
Fred was silent for a moment and joined me, settling directly across from me. His brazen and clandestine grin fell away, replacing it with a semi-regretful frown. He slowly began scouring at the cauldron, his eyes fixated at the spot he was cleaning. I took a quick peek at him, then back down at my task.
Why did he have to be so cute?
"Because she wasn't like you."
I nearly choked.
"What?" I demanded, my task immediately forgotten.
Fred attacked the cauldron with more force, his frown deepening; his eyes still trained to the spot that didn't want to get cleaned.
He shrugged, trying to play it cool.
"You know what I mean. I was only looking for a bit of fun and she seemed the girl. But after a week I couldn't stand it. She just got so bloody annoying, always clinging onto my arm. I couldn't even talk about Qudditch with her, because she bloody hates it. And she's not nearly as witty as you are. You and I always can joke around and have a bit of a laugh but she just giggles and giggles like a screech owl! Can you believe that? Anyway, I ended it on Sunday because I'd had enough," he calmly retorted.
I tried to regain a normal breathing rate but his answer kept repeating itself in my mind like a broken record.
Because she wasn't you.
It was only a gesture of friendship, right? But what did they have to do with his breakup with Maria? I mean, he was friends with Katie and Alicia and he never ended a fling with one of his many admirers just because the girl wasn't either Kate or Leesh.
I guess it's a good sign, right? It showed that he was thinking about me rather than thinking of another prank to play on me. But maybe I'm taking this too far. Maybe I'm just being gullible and overreacting. Just because I fancy him doesn't mean that he feels the same, right?
He's got his fan club. What more could he need?
"Was she upset?" I asked, gazing up at him.
He stopped scrubbing and looked at me, with that twinkle burning brighter than ever.
"Well, you'd be upset too if you found out that you were getting dumped for your best mate," he cheekily noted.
I shook my head, amazed that he could give such insight one-minute, then spit out such senseless garbage the next.
"Fred, how many bloody times have I told you not to go out with your ex's best friend?"
He grinned and went back to work.
"More than I can count. But I really don't see what's so horrible about it. We're broken up. Can't she get over it?"
I let out a scoff of disbelief.
"I really can't believe you. Honestly, Fred! Think about it. The poor girl was just dumped by someone she's utterly enamoured with. The she finds out that the prat is dating her best friend. That's a terrible feeling. How would you feel if say, you and I were dating then I dumped you for Lee or worse, George?"
Fred laughed, more so to himself than about my argument.
"Then I'd say 'Sorry mate, I really don't want to do this but it's inevitable. Then I'd punch whichever bloke it was, Lee or George," he triumphantly informed.
I laughed in spite of myself. In an odd, twisted way, it was sort of sweet to think that Fred would react in that manner, if something like that occurred. Sure, the best way to win a girl's heart didn't mean said guy had to sucker punch the other guy, but considering the fact it was Fred, it made me want to let out a great big 'Awww' of sentimental approval.
"Fred Weasley, you never fail to amaze me," I sincerely confessed, with a small smile.
"Well, I mean, you're…Angel. One of my best mates. I don't necessarily think my head would be on straight if something like that happened," he sheepishly admitted.
The response didn't exactly reveal his undying love for me, but it would do. In a way, though it didn't indicate any romantic feelings of any sort, I felt strangely comforted by the revelation. It was an unmistakable case of the "warm and fuzzies."
It was common knowledge that Fred wasn't a master of words. He wouldn't be winning any poetry awards in his lifetime or praised on his skill with the English language. In fact, he had about the dirtiest mouth this side of the globe. But whenever he did get the occasion to be serious, he really meant it. And that's what made it even sweeter.
"For once, I'd have to agree with you."
He smirked.
"Oh, you always agree with me. Deep down inside, you're saying, "That Fred Weasley. He's sooo dreamy with his boyish good looks and rogue charm, that I can't help but think that he's totally right." That's why you love to disagree, because you don't want to admit you agree," he proudly teased.
I felt my cheeks grow warm and I chucked the roll of paper towels at him. Fortunately, this time, it clobbered him in the face.
"Hey! Unfair!" he complained, his face contorted in surprise and protest.
I stuck out my tongue at him and got up, then moved to the next dirty cauldron.
"Get to work on the potions cabinet, Casanova, before my foot tells you EXACTLY what I think of those boyish good looks of yours."
He grinned and stood up, swaggering over to the cabinet.
"Your wit astounds me, Angel," he drawled.
I snorted, pushing a stray lock of jet-black hair out of my face.
"You just compliment me because I'm the only girl who won't put up with your nonsense."
He ripped off a sheet of paper towel and started wiping down the bottom shelf.
"Precisely. Which is why it's never any fun dating a member of the 'Giggly Gang.' I feed them bull shit by the tons and they eat it up like it's a damn Sugar Quill. Where's the challenge in that?" he whined.
I furrowed my brow.
"Then why do you date them?"
He chuckled.
"For the exact reasons I just said. Give them a pretty line or two and you've sealed the deal," he boasted.
I scowled. Whenever Fred started going into "Player" mode, it annoyed me beyond belief. I knew that Fred really wasn't like the stereotypical "use them, lose them," personality that went along with the philosophy.
He was so much more than that. Yet he insisted on throwing out reminders to everyone and anyone of this façade, in order to strengthen his reputation. He didn't want to appear vulnerable, I suppose.
It was so weird because George, though in some ways was like Fred, possessed a total opposite outlook on girls and relationships. George was the more romantic type. He was known to be the one to always remember Valentine's Day AND send a bouquet of roses.
He wasn't perfect, as expected and had his "Fred-like" moments, but for the most part, was the classic example of every hopeless romantic guy in every muggle romantic comedy.
Fred on the other hand…let's just say it was a miracle when he remembered to even comb his hair.
It really was a hindrance because I also had a feeling Fred was getting tired of the chase and the constant games. But he was addicted to it and couldn't stop. He once told me if the right girl came along, he would give it all up.
I doubt it.
"I'm not an expert on all these games you play, but do let me say this. With the way you keep going, I guarantee you're going to miss out on probably the best thing you've ever had."
Fred shook his head, my statement going through one ear and out the other.
"If the right girl comes along, I'll know. For now, it's all for fun. We're only young once, right?" he strongly argued.
I sighed, nearly done with my second cauldron.
"I had a feeling you'd say that. And I'm afraid if you live that attitude to the fullest in every sense, you're going to miss out on a really wonderful girl. And when you go claiming it back, it'll be too late."
Our conversation kind of went downhill after that. For some reason, my advice struck a chord with Fred and we worked in relative silence the rest of the detention.
We finished three minutes early, much to my surprise. At exactly the two hour mark, Snape came gallivanting inside, that smug sneer plastered on his sallow face, as though he were expecting to discover us goofing off. But when he saw us sitting quietly in our seats, the sneer quickly flopped to the floor.
"I see you have completed your task. However, it will have to undergo my inspection before you are free to leave," he curtly replied.
I let out a sigh. Knowing Snape, he would find one speck of dust and detain us for another hour. But much to my relief, we passed inspection. It was nearly eleven as Fred and I headed to the Gryffindor tower. We arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady and Fred muttered the password.
The portrait swung open and I was about to follow Fred inside, but he suddenly stopped. He faced me, that unrecognizable expression gleaming in his eyes again. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes and gazed at me, as though he'd never seen me.
"Listen, Angelina."
He paused. I got really nervous. He usually never calls me by my full name, unless he's really angry or has something very serious to discuss.
"Yes?" I gulped.
He gave a little sigh, studied the ground for a moment then looked back up at me. His voice was clear, but soft and distant.
"About what you said tonight…what if I didn't really know who the right girl was, but I had a feeling she was right under my nose?"
I should have given some clever response but to tell you the truth, I choked. I had no idea what Fred was getting at. I didn't want to say anything that would embarrass me, yet I wanted him to explain his question.
I opened my mouth to speak, when the Fat Lady let out a shrill cry of annoyance.
"Are you two going to stand there all night or come inside?" she coarsely interrupted.
Fred blinked as though he'd been released from a trance.
"Yeah, all right. We'd better get in. It's late," he ordered.
I followed him inside, the portrait snapping shut behind me. He had left me hanging and it was truly wearing at my nerves.
"Fred, what were you going to say?" I demanded, touching his shoulder to stop him.
He turned around and gazed at me with confusion.
"What are you talking about?"
I anxiously coughed. Was I going mental or something? I was positive I had heard him start to talk about the subject of the "right girl" and what not.
"You know, what you started to talk about before? Something about…the right girl," I filled in, feeling mighty stupid.
He looked at me, his eyes empty, his expression of clueless curiosity. A second or two later, a small smile crept up onto his face and he shrugged.
"Oh, that. It's nothing important."
"Fred, really. I mean-"
He glared at me.
"Angie, I said it's no big deal, ok? It was just a stupid question. Probably due to exhaustion. You can just forget about it," he briskly guaranteed.
I sighed, wondering when I would ever figure out what he was trying to hide from me. If it had been earlier in the day, I might have bugged him some more about it. But it was getting late and I had just remembered there was a Transfiguration essay I still needed to finish up.
I would have done it after dinner but due to Snape's detention, I hadn't the time. Besides, Fred could be awfully stubborn at times. Trying to pry whatever secret he was keeping would be like trying to tear a lioness from its cubs.
"Fine. I'll see you in the morning."
The glare disappeared from his face and he tossed me that trademark, trouble-making grin of his as a parting gesture.
"Night, Angie."
With that, we parted ways to our separate staircases. I paused on the bottom step, to take a last look at Fred. He was already half-way up, strolling up the staircase and mumbling something to himself that sounded suspiciously like,
"Stupid Fred, you should have told her."