A/N: SO sorry this took so damn long. I'm currently in a freezing library in Oakville because I've been shipped out here by my crazed parents. Will try to update more often. Sorry again about all this and thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming, I thrive on them.
Let go, jump in.
Oh well, whatcha waiting for?
It's alright, 'cause there's beauty in the breakdown.
Oh, it's so amazing here.
It's alright --
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown.
-Let go, Frou Frou.
vi.
In sixth year, the cancellation of the Quidditch Season had left everyone reeling. Angelina's heart twisted painfully at the mere thought of no quidditch for ten months-- the feeling of the patched Quaffle in her hands, the broom uncomfortable but so comforting beneath her. The sharp wind in her hair; the feeling that her lungs could never get enough air. It thrilled her.
The Tri-wizard Tournament was another thing, though.
She had entered her name into the Goblet, hoping that it would give her something to take her mind off the empty space in her life quidditch used to fill. However, a queer twist of fate left Harry and Cedric both Hogwarts contenders, leaving Angelina rejected and shocked, and very, very frightened of a future with absolutely no action and adventure.
Either way, the announcement of the Yule Ball was the last thing on her mind. Who had time for such silly things, anyway-- maybe those feminine girls with big bright eyes and button noses, who would whisper about their choice of robes (most that she'd heard were frilly and pink, so far,) and their dream dates.
It was enough to make her sick.
"Can you believe those birds?" Angelina asked, frowning as she walked down the hall with Katie and Alicia, passing a group of giggling Hufflepuffs. "It's just a bloody dance."
Katie exchanged nervous looks with Alicia and Angelina looked over at them, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw running down the hall.
"What?"
"Well," Katie began, twirling smooth hair between her fingers. "We're slightly excited as well."
"Oh bollocks," Angelina rolled her eyes.
"No, really," Alicia grinned. "I'm looking forward to wearing dress robes and getting out of these uniforms." She adjusted the strap of her bag. "You know, maybe get some attention from the blokes?"
Angelina knew that Alicia got more than enough attention from the boys—she was slender and well-curved, a beautiful silhouette that immediately turned heads when she sauntered into a room. She had blue eyes much paler than Fred's but equally as beautiful; she was stunning in the simplest sense of the word.
"I suppose," Angelina said thoughtfully, pursing her lips. She had never really thought about it that way before. Perhaps if she bought a really mind-blowing dress— No. Enough of that.
"You'll see, you'll get excited soon enough," Katie said wisely, green eyes amused.
Sure enough, Angelina did start to feel a thrum adrenaline a couple of weeks before the Ball. She blamed it on boredom—the school had absolutely nothing to do except watch the Tri-wizard Tournament unfold.
"Has anyone asked you yet?" Alicia asked from her place by the fire, the flickering flames turning her pale skin to gold and dancing magically across her blond hair.
"No," Angelina murmured, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her shirt. She felt extremely self-conscious at the question. Alicia and Katie both already had dates.
There was a silence. "Why don't you ask him?" She whispered, leaning forward.
"You're mad if you think I would," she glared her.
"Oi, Angelina!"
She turned at the sound of his familiar voice and found him looking at her with a mixture of mischief and hope. His scarlet hair was mussed about his head and his cobalt eyes were amused. George, Harry, Hermione, and Ron, (who was for some reason staring at her in a bit of awe, his ears singed) were sitting around him, looking at her expectantly.
"What?" she called across the room, slightly nervous.
"Want to come to the ball with me?"
To say she was surprised was an understatement. To say that her heart had just skipped a beat was a bigger one.
Instead of shouting out, Bloody hell I will, as was on the tip of her tongue, she forced herself give him an evaluating sort of look, her eyes bored. Herglance traveled from his slim crimson lips, to his freckled nose, to the high cheekbones, to his golden eyelashes.
"Alright, then," she called back, holding his gaze for a split second before turning back to Alicia, trying to hold back a grin. Alicia on the other hand, was having none of it and was smiling like her birthday had come early.
The night of the Yule Ball came with a bang, the Weird Sisters taking Hogwarts by storm. There was an excited buzz that fell over the crowd of dancers and diners, except for possibly Harry Potter and Ron Weasely, who looked like they'd rather be at their own funerals.
As a slow song ended, Fred took his warm hands from her waist and gripped her hand tightly. The fast-paced drumming of the new song pumped through her veins and she could feel the pulse in his wrist beating in time with the music.
"Let's show these kids how to dance, Angie," he grinned, freckled face flushed.
Angelina and Fred danced the night away, literally. Time flew by as she was twirled under his arm and dipped over it. Her feet were aching in her high white heels but that didn't stop her from spinning them to the music with Fred. A small crowd had parted to watch them and she couldn't say she blamed them. Fred was a sight in his dark robes, slim and agile, his bright hair flying about his laughing face. With every spin his robe fluttered, giving the girls a glimpse of the white dress shirt that was matted tightly to his body with sweat—it was safe to say Angelina was the envy of many of the girls there.
Towards the end of the night, Fred had floated off with George (who had only danced the slow dances with Katie) to harass a man in a dark suit. She didn't mind the break from the dancing—her heart was thumping painfully and her legs were shaking. Fred's cologne lingered faintly in the air around her.
"Look at you, twinkle-toes," Katie had laughed. "You and Fred were quite spectacular, I must say,"
Angelina shrugged, smiling. "I like to dance."
"Are you and Fred…?"
"No," she answered quickly. "Don't be thick. We're best mates."
"Yes," she retorted stubbornly. "And I'm shagging Dumbledore."
Angelina grinned. "Blimey, that's a hot piece of ancient arse."
"Who's a hot piece of ancient arse?" George asked, coming up behind Katie and pulling gently on a curl piled high atop her head.
They looked put out, and Fred had a slight scowl on his face, his eyes dark.
The Ball was coming to a close it seemed; no one was dancing anymore, just chatting tiredly. Some were yawning. Many were leaving. The air in the great hall was thick with sweat and fragrance, and the candles that lit the room were dimming.
"Are you ladies ready to go?" Fred asked, his voice hoarse.
They nodded and stood, Angelina wincing as her bare feet touched the floor. Her heels were dangling by the straps from her fingers, satin smooth and glinting in the starlight of the enchanted ceiling.
Katie and George walked in front of him, arm-in-arm and laughing softly. They were quiet when they were together, the only time that boy ever was. In the fading light they looked like a painting—romantic and beautiful and ancient.
"Angelina," Fred whispered, breaking her out of her thoughts.
"Yes?"
"I think we should go flying," he said, voice low. There was that mischievous look in his eye that made her heart pound in excitement. "Right now."
She grinned. "In our fancy clothes?"
He grinned and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of Katie and George's shadow and down the hallway away from the Gryffindor Tower.
"Do you object?" He asked, looking away from her and carefully around a dark corner. She laughed.
He turned back to her, beautiful face wiped of the unusual scowl and full of crazy youth. "You know I wouldn't," she grinned.
They both needed this, she thought, they needed the wind whipping through their hair and a tight grip on a smooth broom handle; they needed open space and stars and night and freedom.
They softly pushed open the door at the entrance of the school and ran across the grounds. The snow crunched under Angelina's bare feet but the sting of cold was a welcome relief against her aching toes. She looked behind them as their footprints led them farther away from the school which loomed darkly against sky that was the colour of Fred's eyes, dotted with silver stars.
They reached the quidditch field, laughing and gasping for breath. Angelina fell into the snow and threw her arms over her head, smiling, and closed her eyes. She heard Fred fumbling with the lock of the quidditch shed.
"Angelina," he said, and she opened her eyes to find him standing above her. He was a beautiful sight, like a fallen angel on her deathbed, off to take her to a heaven of endless sky and fast music.
He regarded her for a moment or two of silence, his arms crossed over his chest. He was smiling only slightly.
"What are you staring at, you great prat?"
"You," he said softly.
She felt heat rise to her cheeks at the intimacy in his voice—soft and gentle and rough; for her ears only.
"What?" she breathed.
"Your dress looks like part of the snow." He grinned. "Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?"
The snow that was soaking through the thin material of her dress was forgotten as she suddenly felt her entire body go hot. He was looking at her with a smile on his face but his eyes were smoldering, or as close to smoldering as she had ever seen them, at least.
"Just tonight?" she asked, trying to be cheeky.
"You're a tease, Johnson, I—Cor, are you barefoot?" he asked, eyes wide. He knelt down and grabbed her ankle. She shrieked as his fingers stroked the soles of her feet.
"My shoes were bloody killing me," she said breathlessly as she tried to pull her feet out of his grasp. She burst out laughing when he brushed against the bottom of her feet again.
"Aren't you cold, love?" he asked amusedly, letting go of her slim ankle. "Look, your lovely dress is all wet."
"Belt up, Weasely," she smiled. "Are you complaining?"
"Definitely not," he murmured, standing up and holding his slim hand out to help her. She took it and was easily pulled to her feet. She felt ice water dripping down her neck and threw her head back, gasping.
"Oh, fuck," she breathed, letting go of his hand. "That was uncomfortable."
She looked at Fred, who was staring at her with the strangest expression on his flushed face, his lips parted.
"Shall I fetch you a camera?" She asked, rolling her eyes at him.
He said nothing. Looking away and trudging back over to the shed, he mumbled, "I can't alohamora this lock." He looked over at her. "Can I borrow one of your pins?"
She shrugged and pulled one out of her hair. She felt it tumble down in a heavy weight, damp with water. It was probably starting to curl at the ends. Again, when she looked back up at Fred, he was decidedly staring away from her.
"Here," she said, poking him in the back with it.
"You're an amazon," he laughed and began to pick the lock. His long, slim fingers were curled around the heart-shaped wrought-iron lock tightly.
Five minutes later they had grabbed two brooms, ancient Cleansweeps, from the other locked closet and ran with them outside, giggling like school children.
"I hope we don't get caught," she said childishly.
"Silly Angelina," he murmured softly. "Getting caught is half the fun." With a wink, he kicked off into the sky littered with sparkling diamonds, his black robe billowing out behind him and his arms in the air triumphantly. He let out a scream of happiness and clutched the broom again, spiraling into the night.
She rose into the air, the light layers of her crème-coloured dress flapping around her and hair whipping into her face. She wrapped her slim thighs around the handle and sped off.
When Fred turned on his broom to face her, face alight in a grin so wide she could see the charming canine tooth, she felt her heart swell up, tight and beautiful. In the air again, she hoped that McGonagall and Snape and the entire school could see her, because she'd never had such vitality—
With Fred, she'd never been so alive.