Author Note: Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, and following! I wanted to get this out to you before I break for the holidays. Special shout out to all the Weasley Twin fans.

Fred was officially enemy Number One and she didn't want to win him over as much as she wanted to punch a smirk off his face. It'd been three weeks since her visit to their store. Three weeks with no progress. It stung after how sure she'd felt about George after their kiss in his shop. She continued to meet up with him every Thursday for lunch, but that was more of making sure she was at The Leaky Cauldron when he arrived so he'd join her. They attended one of Oliver's matches, but so had Hermione, Harry, Ron, Luna, and Ginny. George barely glanced her way and Fred spent his time throwing peanuts down the front of her shirt while doing his best to look innocent whenever she glared at him.

They'd had one more Quidditch practice together in which Fred stayed glued to George's side. While having her dodge bludgers he sent one rocketing into her stomach hard enough to wind her and leave a nasty bruise. Despite his apology she worried he'd done it on purpose. Not to mention all the snarky jokes he'd thrown her way. Basically Fred hated her and she blamed him for the way George seemed to have cooled toward her. He hadn't asked her on a date since her shop visit and the only alone time she got with him was the hour at the pub for lunch. Oliver told her the twins were in the middle of a few important business deals. Over and over again she reassured herself that George was just busy with work.

She sipped on her drink, gaze glued to the door leading to Diagon Alley. George should arrive for lunch any minute now. He was already twenty minutes late, unusual for him. Her gaze darted to the door as it opened again, but it was just a woman carrying a toddler on her hip. She checked the time again. Disappointment sank like a stone in her stomach. Maybe he wouldn't come today.

No matter how she turned over the last three weeks in her head, she came to the same conclusion: George was no longer interested in her. The thought made her heartsick. More than anything she wanted to go home and curl up in her favorite chair with something laced with chocolate. Since Ginny was playing matchmaker for Oliver, maybe she could do the same for Lucy. Get someone else on her mind so she could quit agonizing over George. Those first few meetings had been such a whirlwind and now there was nothing. She should have known it was too good to be true.

The door opened and George stepped through. She let out a deep breath. Wait, no, the hair was off. Fred, not George. He headed straight for the counter to put in his order. Dread tightened her chest. What in the hell was he doing here and where was George? She so did not feel like smiling through Fred's snarky jokes today. That sounded like the recipe for her to embarrass herself by bursting into tears. Thinking about it was enough to make her eyes sting. Damn Fred, ruining her Thursday.

Realizing he hadn't spotted her yet, she jumped into action, giving herself no time to change her mind. She chugged down the rest of her drink and grabbed her bag. Then she darted for the front door, her pulse pounding in her ears. After her ex she'd promised herself to never cling to a guy who wasn't as enthusiastic as she was, George included.

This weekend was the next Quidditch game meet up for Oliver's friends. He'd invited her along but she didn't know if she wanted to go face the twins. Maybe a cupcake and a quick pity party would help her make up her mind. Or maybe she could train to be a beater so she could repay the favor to Fred and send a bludger into his gut.

She hesitated as she spotted her favorite muggle bookstore. Fred may have ruined her chance to see George, but no reason to let the excursion go to waste. She'd get herself a new book or two. Preferably something tragic to match her gloomy mood or a story where a villainous brother got his comeuppance. That was a happy ending she could get behind.

"Katie Bell brought Emily who really wants to play, but you can take turns with one of the chasers," Oliver offered.

"No, that's okay. I'll watch for a bit." She handed Oliver a bottle of water. With how hot the day was the wind from flying would come as a relief, but she didn't want to make them take a break mid-game so she could jump in and force someone else to sit out..

"Did I hear you say you aren't playing?" Fred asked as he inched down the table toward her. "Don't tell me all that practicing was for nothing. George and I are great teachers."

She bit the inside of her cheek to resist elbowing him in the chest. "I can play another time." Her gaze slid past Fred to where George stood with a drink in hand watching as Ron and Harry tossed the quaffle back and forth near the box of Quidditch supplies, forcing Luna to jump around in the middle as she tried to capture it. Beside George Emily rested a hand on his arm as she laughed a little too loudly at whatever he'd said. She was tall, as tall as George, and gorgeous. However Lucy couldn't help but to wonder how she planned to play chaser with her long pink fingernails. Several were bound to get snapped by the end of the game. Her boots were more suited to fashion than Quidditch as well. And her long black hair was shiny enough for a magazine ad, but if she didn't tie it up it would only get in her way up in the air.

"Do you need a drink?" she asked Fred, hoping it'd get rid of him.

"Sure." He grabbed hers right out of her hand.

Her hand stiffened, turning her fingers into claws as she pictured scraping her nails down his arm. "Just so you know I have an incurable disease that can only be caught by drinking after me. You'll be dead by the end of the month."

"You look pretty good for a dying girl. You did get some lipstick on it though." He wiped it off on his shirt before taking a swig.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed herself a new bottle, aiming for a carbonated water flavored with strawberry that George mentioned not liking the week before. She popped the tab and took a sip.

"Hey, Fred, can I have some?" Emily asked as she shimmied up next to him.

"Sure. Take this one." He handed the stolen drink over to her.

"Thanks, Fred. You're a sweetheart." She grinned at him with a look of adoration.

"Lucy is too." He gave her a big smile as he reached for her new drink without looking at it. She didn't fight him. He took a large swig, his face distorting in disgust as he swallowed. Satisfaction slithered through her at the sight.

She gave him her best angelic smile, relishing the way he frowned at the bottle. He cast her a look of suspicion that screamed "I know you gave me this on purpose." She patted his arm. "Better drink it all down quick. Looks like Harry is drawing straws for starting teams. Wouldn't want any of that drink going to waste."

"Drawing straws?" Emily asked.

Fred set the drink down. "Helps make sure we aren't all always playing on the same team. Keeps things interesting. Harry will make sure you're on Katie's team. Well, probably. Someone should remind him."

"Someone like you?" Lucy asked.

Fred glanced between her and Harry. "Touché. I guess I guess I have no choice now, do I? Come on, Emily. Let's get to the team drawing. I hope you're a good artist."

Emily gave a nervous laugh. Poor girl. Fred could eat her alive if he tormented her the way he did Lucy.

"She isn't the Quidditch type," Oliver whispered as soon as they were out of ear shot.

"What, do you have freaky Quidditch senses now or something?" Lucy grabbed yet another drink, deciding to keep this one closed until she sat down.

"Don't need them with the way she's dressed. Katie looks ready to do battle, but her friend looks ready to go dancing in a club. And with the way she's following the twins around like a puppy, well I have two guesses as to why she wanted to come play."

"Two redheaded guesses? Make sure Ginny keeps her off your dating list."

Oliver cracked a smile. "Sure thing."

George tossed his empty bottle into the trash as though he were playing basketball. "You playing today, Lucy?"

"Just watching. I'm letting Emily play." Her stupid, traitorous heart skipped when he talked to her.

"Sorry I missed you at The Leaky Cauldron this week." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I got there late and you were already gone. Ended up with a bit of a rush at the store right before lunch."

"Yeah, sorry. I left early this week when you didn't show."

Ron blew his whistle, signaling everyone to get ready to play.

"That's my cue. I'll talk to you later." He headed for the group gathered in the middle of the pitch.

"Luce?" Oliver side-eyed her.

"I don't want to talk about him, okay? I think I'm going to head home. Good luck out there."

"Got it." He squeezed her shoulder, giving her a look of sympathy. "Come visit any time."

She stayed at the table, cold drink in hand as she watched the teams divide up. Fred and George would be squaring off on separate teams and Emily bounced on the balls of her feet as she rushed to join George on her team's side. Katie was too busy doing stretches to worry about her excited friend. A prickle of jealousy stabbed at her stomach.

As George mounted his broom he gave Lucy a wave. She gave a half-hearted one back. Fred zipped up behind George and waved harder than him. When George noticed, he turned to play punch him in the shoulder. Emily flew to George's side and tapped his arm. She leaned forward to ask him a question and just like that Lucy was forgotten again.

A walk in the park followed by ice cream sounded much better than watching Emily flirt with Fred and George she decided. She stayed glued to her spot for ten more minutes, watching the start of the game. Feeling awkward standing around alone, she distracted herself by closing up the food containers. At least when Hermione sat beside her to read Lucy didn't feel like a total loser sitting alone. She must look pathetic to those playing, watching all alone with nothing else to do. She looked back up in time to see Fred get a bludger hit in. The bludger zoomed at Emily who let out a squeal as she attempted a slow dodge. George reached the bludger in time to deflect it away from her.

Lucy's stomach dropped. It shouldn't mean anything, she told herself. They were teammates and just playing the game. And here she was all alone while Emily got a chance to impress George at Quidditch. She heaved a sigh. Her mind thought of the laundry piling up at home and her decision was made. Today was her weekend of cowardice and sneaking off it seemed, but she'd take it over sitting all alone heartsick.

A few hours later she found herself at her favorite tea and coffee shop. The tantalizing smell of coffee hung in the air. What better place to escape her wizard woes than a muggle establishment? She'd chosen a low table with a thick cushion for a chair. The quiet instrumental music playing over the speakers soothed her. She stretched out and let her worries over the Weasley twins fall away as she dove into her book, a historical with the tragic romance she craved.

After chapter five and one ice tea down, she picked up the menu to decide her next drink. She usually stuck to the cold drinks when she came alone. When Oliver tagged along he introduced her to the hot teas. Her family had always preferred coffee over tea. Thanks to this tea shop she'd learned some of Oliver's favorites so she could keep them at her place for his visits. The tea list here was pages and pages long and without Oliver to guide her she felt a little lost. She reread the description of the last tea on the page. A light woodsy flavor. What did that even mean?

She set the menu down. Movement caught her eye and she looked up only to do a double take in surprise to find someone sitting across from her. His brown eyes watched her with curiosity. He sat cross-legged, his hair fiery compared to his drab brown shirt. The hair was too short to be George which meant…Fred. Her stomach dropped. Why was he showing up everywhere?

"Is this where you come to do all your evil plotting?" he asked. He grabbed the menu, sliding it across the table to look at it.

She took a deep breath to get her emotions under control. "What are you doing here? I was under the impression this was a Fred Weasley safe zone."

He pouted at her. "You wound me. Oliver mentioned you come here and I was curious." He set the menu aside to grab her book instead.

She grabbed her purse and slid it behind her before he could get any bright ideas to grab it next. Sitting alone with him felt strange. When she looked at him she saw George but he acted more like an impulsive, possessed version of George.

"This book seems a bit dreary. I bet entirely too many characters die in it."

She snatched her book back. "If you want to paw through my things then it's only fair for you to empty your pockets for me."

He held his hands up. "Only have my wand and wallet."

"Don't say that so loud." She sat up straighter, glancing around to make sure no Muggles had heard.

"They'd think I'm a loon is all. No worries." He looked around the place, taking his sweet time as he took in the scenery. "Charming I guess. Is the tea any good? Do they have scones too?" He grabbed the menu again and began flipping through the pages. A minute later he flagged a waiter over to put in his order for a pot of tea and blueberry cinnamon scones.

"You want anything else?" He peered over the menu at Lucy. She shook her head and he dismissed the waiter. "So, you really sit around in places reading. That isn't some act you put on for my brother."

She groaned and rested her forehead against her palm. "Are you here to play your protective brother role?"

"Of course I am. Do you have any paper on you? A notebook or something?"

"Maybe. Why?" She peeked through her fingers at him.

"For our interview! I didn't bring anything to write with." He patted his pockets as though searching.

"Interview? Are you mental?"

He shook his head. "I need to interview you to see if you are worthy of my Georgie."

She shifted, letting her elbow rest on the table. "I was under the impression he's already moved on from me. Hence why I'm spending a riveting Friday night alone reading in a tea shop." She tapped her book. "You should be off tormenting Emily instead."

"Emily has no sense of humor. And she can't catch the quaffle let alone attempt a goal. In fact I'm suspicious of Harry for making sure she wasn't on his team. Winning was too easy."

The waiter appeared with his order. Fred grabbed a butter knife and cut the large scone in half and slid it toward Lucy. The offer surprised her. It was a move she expected from George, not Fred. He poured himself a cup next. She watched him, afraid of touching the offered scone or grabbing the second cup to try the tea.

"I promise it's not poisoned," Fred said.

"It's yours."

"I'm an adult; I know how to share." He poured her a cup.

She eyed up the dark tea. "I've never had this before. Did you order something gross to get back at me for the strawberry water earlier?"

He shook his head. "It's a vanilla tea. A bit sweet. One of my favorites."

She sniffed the tea, detecting a hint of vanilla. He watched her as he dipped his scone into his tea. She straightened up. "Why are you being so nice all of the sudden. It's suspicious."

"Implying I'm not a nice guy. Ouch." He moved his hand to his heart and gave her a look of devastation. "George didn't get all the sweetness between us. Most of it sure, but not all. Now, enough time wasting." He sipped at his tea, his forehead wrinkled in thought. "What are your intentions with my brother?"

She groaned. "I'm not answering your questions."

"Because you don't want to reveal your evil plot?"

"No, because I don't plan a whole relationship out when I've just met someone. What happened to testing the waters and seeing where things go? As it turns out sometimes the person you think you're going to marry ends up being a total asshole so why bother planning."

"Sounds like you're speaking from recent experience."

"Unfortunately yes." She tested the tea. The light flavor wasn't overly strong like the gunpowder tea she tried last week. Instead it tasted refreshing with the right touch of sweetness. It would be a great drink after dinner when she wanted something a little sweet.

"So what happened with the asshole?"

"We're not going to talk about it." She took another sip to distract herself from his intense stare.

"I'm just making sure you're suitable for my brother. You're American, so I doubt you're a gold digger like Emily since our products haven't hit shelves over there yet. She was easy to pin down, but you're harder to read."

"Fond of personal questions today, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "What made you decide to leave everything behind and come to England? According to The Quibbler Americans who support You-Know-Who have been moving to England to protest him being locked up. I sometimes wonder how true that is. I thought Americans cared less about blood status."

"Are you implying you think I'm the type to support him?" She wished she could punch him. Or hex him. George would never go out of his way to offend her. He was too sweet. "My turn to ask you an overly personal question. Is your family pureblooded?"

"Yeah." He poured himself a second cup of tea. "Does that matter?"

"I don't know. Does it matter to you?" Her nails pressed into her jeans on her thigh as she tried to rein in her growing frustration.

"It's not something I think about." He took a large bite of scone, watching her the whole time. When she said nothing he pushed on. "So why are you interested in George?"

"What do you think?"

He squinted at her. "Could be a few things. Could be a gold digger like Emily, or a pureblood chaser, but probably not the second if you hang out here. Didn't take you for the muggle tea shop type though."

Her patience broke after his last comment. She wasn't about to sit here while he continued to insult her. "Or maybe I thought he was handsome and interesting and had good taste in books. I assure you I didn't know who he was when we met or that he had a jackass of a twin." She tossed her half of the scone at him and scooped up her bag. Doubting Fred would have muggle money on him, she slapped down enough to cover the bill. "And for your information I'm not a pureblood, so keep any remarks about muggleborns to yourself."

She stormed past him and stepped outside into a curtain of misty rain. Typical England. She'd never thought she'd miss the weather from back home so much. Maybe the heat wasn't so bad after all, better than the rain and gloom here.

"Lucy!"

She picked up her pace, eager to get away from Fred. She weaved through the people milling about on the sidewalk, hoping he wouldn't be able to spot her. The street corner came into view and she headed for it, eager to lose him.

"Wait up." A hand snatched her arm, his hot fingers burning against her skin like a brand.

Panic welled up as her chest tightened. Her pulse took off like a rocket. The memory of hitting the ground and hearing the snap of her wrist replayed in her mind. They'd told her to wait up too when she tried to outfly them. Wait up, Luce. We just want to play.

She ripped her arm away as she grabbed her wand. Then she whirled around to face him, wand in hand. His eyes widened at the sight and he pulled his own out. She didn't hesitate to see if he'd try to use it. Instinct drove her.

"Expelliarmus," she muttered. Her heart pounded in her ears so loudly she could barely hear herself. A small flash of white light burst from the tip of her wand and Fred's wand shot up and out of his hand. She snatched his wand out of the air at his look of disbelief. "Leave me alone!" Her voice came out high and thick with panic.

She backed away from him. He gawked at her. Once she put several steps between them she turned and ran.

"Lucy!" he bellowed loud enough that the woman in front of Lucy almost dropped her phone in alarm.

She pushed her legs to go faster, her face turning red from fear and embarrassment. She'd thought she was over the panic and fear. She'd done so well since moving to England, believing her therapy in America had paid off. Not once had she had a dizzying moment of panic while on her broom in England or a flashback to the attack. What luck, having it all come roaring back so she could attack her crush's brother. Clearly she was poised for a great romance. Not.

She couldn't get back to her flat fast enough. When she finally reached it, she rushed inside to put familiar, safe walls between her and Fred. She leaned her back against the door and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting as her pulse calmed and her breathing returned to normal. The tension released from her and she flexed her fingers. A wand fell from her left hand and clattered onto the floor where it rolled away from her feet. Fred's wand. In her panic she hadn't tossed it back to him. With a groan she collapsed onto the chair in defeat.

What the hell was she supposed to do with his wand now?