They were both quiet when they first arrived. They sat at their usual table, the one Fred so rudely invaded once upon a time, as they both pondered all the platter options. It wasn't until they both put in their customizations for the high tea that Lucy had to admit there was no other way to stall, but she didn't know where to begin. Fred's hands twitched and fidgeted, making her think he must feel the same way. Doubts began to creep in and she focused on the quiet, calming music to chase them away. The music faded into the background, not too distracting but loud enough to set the mood.

"What are you plotting that caused you to invite me?" Fred asked.

"I already told you. I didn't want to be the lame person trying to do a high tea alone. High tea is meant to be social." She eyed up the chocolate strawberries the couple beside them were eating. She'd wanted to do a high tea since finding this place, but Oli had always been too busy for more than a quick pot and a snack.

"Your plot is a secret then." He raised one eyebrow. "But I'm on to you. I'll figure it out eventually."

She sipped at her glass of water to hide her amused smile. His joking helped her relax. "Maybe I should have gone with the strawberries instead of the cream puff," she said as she glanced back at the couple. "Or maybe I'm just hungry and everything looks good."

The waiter dropped off their first pot of tea. They'd agreed to take turns picking which tea to drink. She'd started them off with a chocolate hazelnut. The scent of it smelled divine. "Do you think Ron and Hermione will be all right?" They seemed so mismatched to her that the fighting wasn't surprising, but she didn't understand their relationship well enough to know what it could mean for them.

"This is nothing new. They have a fight about every six months like clockwork and everything is back to normal by the next day. Their marriage never made sense to me, but what do I know?"

"I hope they figure things out. As strange a pair as they make, they do seem to love each other."

"Harry and George are experts at this point when it comes to handling Ron. Within a few hours he'll go marching back to apologize. And ignoring me won't keep me from figuring out your plot." He sniffed the tea, keeping his suspicious gaze locked onto her.

"Fine, fine, you caught me. Do you want to know my secret plot?"

He scoffed. "Obviously." He grabbed the teapot and slid it to his side of the table. "Tell me now if you want the hostage back. Otherwise I'll drink it all myself."

"That's dirty. And it's the tea I picked too, making it extra dirty."

"I'm afraid you've left me with no choice. Tell me what you're plotting and I'll let you have some."

"Fine." Nerves rattled around inside her at the thought of telling him she'd meant this to be a date. She couldn't bring herself to admit it, suddenly too afraid of how he might react. It'd hurt if he rejected her, she realized. She liked him more than she wanted to admit and now that she'd started down this path, a no scared her.

"Well?" He started to reach for her teacup too, but she blocked him.

"I want to go rock climbing."

"Rock climbing?" His hand hovered in the air, a look of disbelief on his face.

"It doesn't have to be rock climbing. I just want to do something fun and adventurous. Something like the obstacle course, but not that a second time."

"And you can't ask George why?"

"Because he is out comforting Ron tonight and you aren't."

"But he'll be back by tomorrow. It's too late to go rock climbing on such short notice."

She sighed. Apparently he was bent on leaving her with no choice. "I thought it would make a fun date."

He went quiet, turning his attention to his cup. "I can't date you."

Her stomach plummeted and nerves tightened her chest. "Are you saying you're not interested in me?" She should have waited. How could she possibly set through a high tea now? She'd wind up crying by the end.

"I didn't say that."

The waiter appeared with their tiered tray of wraps, scones, and desserts. She made herself up a plate while Fred sulked. Her nerves made her hand shake when she reached for a scone, grateful her hunger was stronger than the nerves rattling around inside her stomach.

After a minute of silence Fred spoke up. "Dating both of us has too much potential to get messy."

"Doesn't any dating have the potential to get messy? Besides, how can we ever know if we don't try?" She froze, surprised at herself. But it was true, and yet she struggled to trace the path that had led them here. If no one had told her anything about Fred's feelings, she'd be none the wiser and wouldn't be considering something so insane. It was too difficult to think about without guilt attempting to well up.

But she thought of the kind of girl she pictured with Fred, one willing to go on adventures and push herself. Wasn't that dream what brought her to move in the first place? She ached to be the type of woman willing to climb a cliff and duel without fear. She also loved the loving warmth of curling up with George and a good book in the evenings.

Fred sipped at his tea, his forehead scrunched in thought. "If you want an adventure I have a place in mind, but you can't ask any questions about it until we get there. The place I can take you to is my special spot and I can't risk it getting found out. That's the rule if you want to go. Otherwise we will split ways once we are finished here. I'll go buy new socks instead."

"New socks, how exciting." She reached for her salmon wrap. "Your special spot better not be the sock store."

He clicked his tongue in mock offense. "I'm exciting supposedly, remember? I can do way better than a sock store. Unless there's a sale. I love sales."

"I think I'm changing my mind on you being the exciting one."

"Suit yourself. You'll never know the wonders of my super secret special place." He pulled the tea menu to his side of the table, taking a sip of the hazelnut as his gaze wandered the menu. He looked more at ease than she felt. If he'd been the one eating at the Leaky Cauldron, she would have felt a similar attraction. That thought made her feel uneasy and she didn't want to dwell on how that would have changed things.

"Okay, I'm in. The super secret part sold me." Her curiosity was too strong. She'd already seen his dueling club, so what other cards did he have up his sleeves?

"Excellent choice. We'll go after dinner. First, I know what tea I'm getting next." He flagged down the waiter and Lucy tried to play it cool despite her pulse rushing through her ears and her hands sweating up a storm. Dating Fred could be exciting and yet… Was it right?

She'd half expected a new dueling spot, but the lack of light told her they were alone as they walked the street. Trees quickly replaced the buildings and she perked up as she recognized the spot. The quidditch pitch stands coming into view confirmed her suspicions. She'd watched Oli play here at least three times. It was also where she'd run into George early on after their first night together.

"It's far too dark for a quidditch match," she said, trying to get Fred to give up something. He'd been quiet the whole trip, refusing to give anything away.

He smirked. "Sure is."

"Bastard. Can't you give me a hint? Just one?"

"That would ruin the surprise. You see, I don't take surprises lightly." He pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm also stuffed. I'm so glad I followed you to that place. Such a great find." He did a chef's kiss.

"Yeah, too bad you had to find it by being a creepy stalker."

He scoffed. "Keep it up and I'm not going to let you in on my secret."

"Is it a tree house with a sign that says 'no girls allowed' where you watch quidditch games from?"

"I wish. That's a great idea. A tree house with bean bag chairs would be awesome." He stopped at the gate leading into the pitch. The stands stood in a circle around the pitch, boxing them in.

"You are taking me onto the field?" she asked in disbelief. "You're breaking and entering now too?"

"It isn't breaking and entering. I have permission. The owner happens to be a fan of the shop and lets me come out here with my telescope. It's a quiet place to relax under the stars." He opened the gate and waved her on ahead.

She'd only ever seen the stands full of cheering fans. The quiet emptiness felt a little spooky. "This feels like the perfect place for a serial killer. It feels all wrong without a game going on."

He stopped in the center of the pitch and pointed up at the sky. "Look up."

She did and nearly teetered over in awe. Without the city lights in the way, sparkling stars filled the sky. The stands framed the sky. "Beautiful." She could spend hours watching the stars and contemplating her life. Contemplating the shop and the twins. Her failed dream career that may have been a blessing in disguise.

"See? Wasn't the surprise worth it?"

"Yes. You are the master of surprises." She saluted him and he grinned. It wasn't as exciting as rock climbing, but seeing a place she didn't normally see like this had its own thrill to it.

"I usually bring a blanket with me but seeing as how I had no warning, I'm unprepared this time." He sat next to her, leaning back to stare up. "Still worth coming though. Been too long since I came by."

"I'm glad I made the cut to learn about your secret place even though it's not a tree house."

"You are welcomed and should feel highly honored. I thought you might understand the allure. Being alone at night doesn't feel sad, but relaxing. During the day I can't sit and watch the sky or I feel like I need to be doing something productive. But at night…at night it feels right."

"I can see why you'd choose this place. I've never actually been on a quidditch pitch like this before. Only the makeshift one we play on with Oli." Since she'd never played in school, all she'd been able to do was watch and wonder what it must be like having people watching and cheering for you. Sometimes it'd made her wish she was brave and coordinated enough to try out for the team. She wondered if she'd ever stop regretting not finding the courage to spread her wings sooner.

"A few times in our Hogwarts days Georgie and I snuck out to the pitch at night with some of the Gryffindor team. I loved the games we played together, but that night huddled under blankets as we talked is one of my fondest memories of the team." His voice came out wistful.

"My friends and I never risked anything like that. Sometimes they broke curfew to make out with their boyfriends, but we never dared sneak out. I was too terrified of getting into trouble."

"Getting yelled at loses the scary factor after the first half a dozen times."

"A troublemaker like you would think that. Do you miss playing Quidditch in front of a crowd at all?"

"Sometimes. I don't think I have it in me to play it professionally like Oli. Too stressful and it would ruin the fun of it for me. But playing in front of a crowd cheering for you is a rush unlike any other. I understand why Oli loves it." He flopped onto his back. "Talking about this makes me feel like an old bloke discussing the good ol' days of Hogwarts."

"Hardly You are far from old and have plenty of good days ahead. All these business deals could land you in one of Wizarding World Magazines. Maybe you'll even get a photoshoot."

He groaned. "My sister reads those sorts of magazines. They are becoming nothing but gossip rags. Better than all the false Death Eater reports the papers give I suppose."

"I've been ignoring the papers for that very reason. I hope the Death Eaters are really gone for good this time." She still found herself looking over her shoulder in Diagon Alley more than she liked. And at night sudden noises still sent her heart racing.

"God me too. Voldemort being done fun was a huge relief. But being done with his followers too, it's like waking up from a nightmare. For once I can wake up and focus on work instead of worrying about another attack. The early morning seems to be my best time to come up with advertising slogans."

"Slogans, huh? You really are a man of excitement twenty-four seven, aren't you?"

He chuckled. "Business is boring, but the rewards are worth it. I think my old teachers are shocked at the success. George and I weren't the most attentive students. I bet you were though, weren't you?"

They were both clever, but they didn't strike her as the types that could stomach class lectures day after day while sitting still. They would have done better with more hands on lessons. "Of course. I couldn't stand missing a class. Made me feel horribly behind. Sometimes I still have a dream where I panic because I'm going to be late to class." She couldn't wait for the day to come when she quit dreaming about school. Although there was a sweet relief to waking up and realizing her school days were behind her.

"I never got the school dreams other than missing the train." His eyes fluttered shut. "I'm glad the students at Hogwarts don't have to fight the war. For all the regrets I may have, fighting back will never be one of them." He looked peaceful. Content even with his hands folded on his chest as though he could fall asleep at any minute.

She leaned over him, mapping out the details of his face. As identical as he and George were, there were little differences. Fred had a mole on his left ear that George didn't and there was a difference between their eyebrows that she couldn't quite place. It made her wonder what other differences there were to find. As beautiful as the stars were, she couldn't tear herself away from Fred to look at them. One by one all her reasons to not date him fell away. Seeing him like this made her yearn to touch him. To find out what lying in his arms felt like while she kissed his troubles away.

A light breeze fluttered the ends of hair resting against his forehead. His lips parted slightly and she found herself leaning closer yet, as if there was a magnetic pull between them she couldn't resist. His eyes opened and she froze.

"You're breathing on me," he said, voice low. The sound of it made her bite her bottom lip as temptation rushed through her.

"Sorry."

"You still haven't moved."

Her breath hitched. "Fred…I want to kiss you."

He stared back at her, neither of them moving. Emotions swam across his eyes too quickly for her to follow. His hands clenched and then relaxed. "Me too," he admitted, voice strained.

"Good." She closed the distance between them. He stayed frozen as she pressed her lips against his. Her heart thudded in her chest, desire worming its way through her. She pulled away and when she opened her eyes she found him still staring at her. And then suddenly she was on her back with him kneeling over top her. Her body thrummed from the closeness. He kissed her, his lips moving hungrily over hers. She met his enthusiasm in kind, her attention focused on matching his rhythm.

He pulled away, desire filling his eyes. "I've tried so hard to resist you. To not think about fucking you," he said voice husky. "I've tried so hard to be good."

Her breath hitched. "Just be Fred," she murmured. The rest of her thoughts fizzled out. She couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of him pressed against her legs and that tantalizing cologne drifting off him.

He groaned and shifted, squeezing between her legs. Her dress hiked up her thighs. She yearned to feel his warmth pressed against more of her. To feel his lips on her again. She reached for him, running a hand over his stomach and up his chest. In response his hips jerked and he pressed against her, his bulge rubbing against her thigh.

"Have you ever had sex on a quidditch pitch?" he asked.

"No. Have you?"

"Not yet." He kissed her neck, his breath ghosting across her skin and giving her goose bumps. "Do you want to?" He nibbled on her ear and she squeezed her legs around him.

"Mmm, please." Her body was on fire with desire. She wanted to feel his hands on more parts of her. To shed the layers of clothes between them.

One hand climbed up her leg, his fingertips brushing over her skin. "Then let's start by losing these. Lift your hips for me." She did and he pulled her panties off, slowly dragging them down her legs. She squirmed as the dragging fabric sent excitement shooting right to her center. Once they were off his hand slid back up her leg, his fingers pausing at her center. She wiggled against his hand, earning a chuckle. "So eager." His fingers dipped between her folds. "And wet already."

He kissed her again, his tongue caressing hers while his fingers stroked her. She balled his tie in one hand to keep him close. The rolled up sleeves exposed his toned forearms, and the thought of him losing his composure and fucking her while dressed that way made her moan.

"F-fred, keep the suit on."

"Are you into the suit and tie look?"

"Those rolled up sleeves are sexy as hell."

He pressed a kiss against her shoulder and she could feel his grin against her skin. "Your fantasy is my command. But there is one caveat." He pulled the straps of her dress down her arms and then yanked them down over her breasts. He reached around and in one quick snap of his wrist unhooked her bra. He tossed it aside.

"What is it?" The cool breeze felt good against her hot skin. Her hips jerked up again at the way his heated gaze fell on her breasts.

He reached up and slipped his tie off. Then he pounced, pushing her arms over her head and tying her wrists. "I'm going to take my time with you. I want you to lie back and enjoy it. Make lots of those sweet moans for me."

He leaned down, pressing his mouth against her right nipple and all she could get out was a squealed yes. He licked and then sucked, teasing her as his hand resumed its ministrations between her legs. Her center ached to be filled. He slipped a finger inside, and then a second, but the relief was short lived. She wanted him to fill her. His fingers hit her sweet spot and her back arched. She cursed in surprise.

His hand disappeared and the high she'd been climbing toward faded. Then his cock replaced his hand as he pressed it against her. She mewled as she rubbed her hips against him, desperate to reach the precipice again. He teased her, rubbing circles around her entrance. "Is this what you want?"

"God yes."

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Then say 'Fred, please fuck me.'"

She sucked in a deep breath to clear her head enough to be able to speak. "Fred, please fuck me." Her desperation to feel him inside made it hard to speak.

He pressed against her entrance, pulling his hips back when she tried to press him inside. He grinned wickedly. "I'm savoring you, remember? Can't go too fast." He pressed against her again and this time began to slide inside at a torturously slow pace that lit her up with pleasure that made her legs tremble and her foot twitch.

He pulled out again. "I think you liked it shallow. Those twitches were adorable." He pressed back inside, stopping so that only the head was inside. He thrust, continuing his torturously slow pace. Her muscles started a new round of twitching. She moaned, throwing her head from side to side as a desperate need to cum rocked through her.

"So close," she moaned.

"Mmm, already? Do I feel that good inside of you?"

She cried out as he picked up the pace, keeping his thrusts shallow. He slid a hand between them, using his thumb to circle her clit. A moment later she could feel the orgasm breaking over her. Sensing it, he plunged back inside her completely, thrusting fast and deep. She cried out as she rode the wave of pleasure. By the time it finished crashing over her and she blinked up at the stars overhead, he gasped as he stopped hilt deep inside her.

He leaned forward on his elbows as he caught his breath. She tried to reach for him before remembering her tied hands.

His wicked grin returned. "I knew teasing you would be fun."

Whatever madness had come over him disappeared, bringing him back to reality as he stared at the front door. He'd seen Lucy home first, barely managing to pull himself away from their heated make out session in her doorway. The way she'd grabbed at his shirt made him consider asking for a second round, but his instincts told him he needed time to clear his head. To think straight again.

The light streaming through the windows told him George was already home. Time to face his sins. The all-too familiar guilt trickled through him. He felt like the worst brother in the world. Again.

George looked up from his hot cup of tea as Fred stepped inside, a book balanced on one leg and the cat the other. Fred shut the door but couldn't bring himself to step any closer. Under George's gaze he might as well have been naked with his sins written all over his body in permanent ink for his brother to judge.

"You have lip gloss on your neck," George said, his walls instantly going up. His face became impassive as though he refused to show any emotion at all. Fred knew that meant his brother was hurting.

"How's Ron?" Fred asked, voice hoarse. He knew it wouldn't buy him much time, but he needed to get his thoughts in order.

"Fine. He ran off to beg Hermione to talk to him. They are going to start seeing a couple's therapist. I know he's our little brother, but I don't understand the pull between those two. They are just so…different. I never pegged Hermione in school as the one he'd lose his head over."

"It's you who I don't understand right now," Fred admitted. "You kept pushing the two of us together and now you're upset about it, aren't you?"

"Yeah." George set his tea down, refusing to meet his brother's gaze. "But it was only a matter of time before she couldn't resist you. That always happens, doesn't it? Angelina was wrong to think I was somehow the less embarrassing twin when I am simply the boring one. No girl who has gotten a taste for excitement would pick me over you."

Fred took two steps forward before hesitating. "She's not Angelina. She wouldn't do that. What happened to me doesn't need to happen to you. She's only dating me to make you happy." Although the selfish part of him hoped he'd changed that. Hoped the sex had been so good that she wanted him purely for him and not to please George. The way she'd moaned his name…that was definitely going to invade his dreams. And her embarrassment afterward about having fucked in such a public place, he'd found that sexy too. There was something about bringing out her wild side that made him wish he'd stayed at her place for a second round.

He shoved his attention back on George, hating himself for getting stuck thinking about what he'd done. George stared at him, mouth open. "For me?"

"I'm not an idiot. I heard part of your conversation with her. She'd do anything to make you happy and keep you. Besides, she's making your favorite pie tomorrow. It was supposed to be a surprise, but she'd be gutted if you weren't happy with it."

George's walls fell away. He closed his book. Sparky stretched and jumped down. "If there's ever a day where pie doesn't please me, I hope it never comes."

Fred stumbled over to the footrest and set down on it. "You're a fool if you thought she'd date me instead of you. You told her both of us and now you're stuck sharing with me. Not your brightest plan."

George smiled, a small smile, but it was a start. "I wouldn't say that. You look like you had fun tonight. Her place?"

"The quidditch pitch." Admittedly it'd been a bit of a fantasy of his for a long while, but the pitch was too much of a sacred place for Angelina to fool around on.

George whistled. "Impressive."

"I'm not the one that kept her going back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch for weeks in hopes of seeing you. That's impressive."

George's smile grew. "I thought I was lucky to have an excuse to sit with a cutie for lunch that day. I didn't realize I was the reason she was there in the first place." He swiped a hand through his wet hair. Freshly showered, Fred guessed. "I don't mind sharing her with you, I just don't want her to realize she can't be happy with me anymore."

"That will never happen. She needs someone who can stomach those sappy romances you read to her in that sultry voice of yours. My books would make her eyes glaze over."

George barked out a laugh. "You've got me there. I'll agree if you promise to go shower. You smell like sex." He wrinkled his nose. "And grass."

"I'll go as long as you promise to believe it. And remember to be surprised about the pie tomorrow."

"I will. I'll even practice my surprised face in the mirror in the morning."

"I'm holding you to it." Fred headed for the shower. He felt like he was walking on clouds and wasn't quite willing to believe it. He felt fantastic, like he could turn right around and go for an hour run. Whether or not this crazy setup would work remained to be seen, but hope bloomed in his chest and for the first time in years, he wasn't afraid of it.