Snape had kept Rook so preoccupied during Rook's detention, she had all but forgotten her uncomfortable interaction with Fred and George that morning. It did not take her long to remember. Before she had reached the stairs to the Entrance Hall, Rook was once again fretting over what she planned on saying to the twins when she saw them. She had little time to prepare, however, as she found Fred pacing the Entrance Hall as soon as she left the dungeons. Rook stopped in her tracks. Fred had not yet seen her, and she briefly considered darting back downstairs to hide until she could come up with the perfect casual opener.

But Rook had hesitated too long. Fred caught sight of her and made a beeline straight for her.

"Finally," he said when he reached her. "I thought I might have to go down there and spring you, you were gone for so long! Was it horrible? I can only imagine!"

Rook was momentarily speechless, feeling as though she had been gone for days rather than hours. Fred was being friendlier than usual, and George was nowhere to be seen. Fred appeared to have been waiting for her. Had he really been that concerned?

"I, uh… I guess it was better than I expected, seeing as I survived," Rook answered Fred faintly, hoping maybe he and George hadn't thought twice about what she'd said to them after all. "I'm exhausted, though, and really hungry. Too bad dinner's not for another couple of hours. Where's George?"

Fred looked somewhat guilty at this. "I'm not sure. I've, er, sort of been avoiding him. It's kind of hard to explain..."

"Oh," said Rook, surprised. "Did you fight, or something?"

"Nothing as dramatic as that," Fred spoke with something like a grimace. "But, you know, I can get you something to eat, if you want."

"That would be amazing."

"Come on."

Fred guided Rook toward yet another staircase off the Entrance Hall, though the corridor to which it led was far more pleasant than the dreary dungeon passageway to Snape's classroom. At the end of the corridor was a large still life depicting a bowl of fruit. The painting was so realistic Rook's mouth began to water as she looked at it. Fred smirked at her as she admired it longingly.

"This is the door to the kitchens," he said. "I wonder if you can figure out how to open it."

Part of Rook wanted to shout at Fred to just open it already, but a stronger part of her couldn't help wanting to try her luck at figuring it out herself. She looked at Fred and then back up at the painting, examining it closely.

"Do I lick it?" Rook asked, sticking out her tongue playfully.

Fred shrugged, smiling. "I dunno… Why don't you try it?"

"Ew!" Rook exclaimed, laughing. "Don't test me, Weasley! I'll do it, I swear!" She stuck out her tongue again and inched toward the gigantic pear while maintaining eye-contact with Fred.

"You do realize that would mean that everyone who goes in has to have licked it too, don't you?"

Rook continued to move slowly toward the painting, tongue outstretched. Fred grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her away at the last minute. "You don't lick it!" he laughed. "You tickle it!"

"Tickle, you say?" Rook considered this. She raised her hand, prepared to tickle the fruit, but then lunged for Fred instead. Fred doubled over with laughter and Rook reached for him again. Fred grabbed her by the wrist, subduing her. He attempted to retaliate with his free hand, but Rook did not react with more than an amused smile. Fred looked down at her, her wrist still in his right hand and the fingers of his left hand brushing her torso.

"Why isn't this working?" he asked awkwardly as he paused.

"I'm not ticklish," Rook explained.

"That's just… unfair."

"You can let go now."

"You'd better not tickle me again," Fred warned.

"Promise."

Fred came away, releasing her but eyeing her warily.

"You can tickle the painting," Rook offered graciously. "I imagine it'll be a more satisfying target."

Fred reacted strangely to this, staring at Rook as though she were speaking Urdu. Rook suddenly felt self-conscious and wondered if she had unwittingly overstepped her bounds. She had the distinct impression since their first meeting that Fred and George were not shy when it came to matters of personal space, but Rook couldn't help worrying that she had somehow crossed a line.

If Fred was bothered, he didn't say so. He reached for the painting and tickled the pear. The pear giggled and transformed into a door handle and Fred pushed the door open, revealing an astonishing scene.

The kitchen was very large, with replicas of the teachers' table and house tables in the Great Hall directly above them. As big as the kitchen was, though, it was equipped with small appliances and wares to accommodate the many small beings handling them. At least a hundred short, skinny creatures with big eyes and bat-like ears bustled around the area, carrying out various tasks. One particular worker hurried over to Fred and Rook the minute they arrived, bowing as he greeted them.

"Good evening again, young master!" the being spoke in a squeaky voice. "A pleasure to see you again so soon!"

"Likewise!" said Fred enthusiastically. "I'd like you to meet someone, actually. This is Rook, the girl I told you about the other night. Rook, this is Ikkus."

"Oh—it's a pleasure to meet you, Ikkus!"

"Ah, yes," Ikkus said, bowing once more. "An honor to make the acquaintance of young Master Weasley's sweetheart!"

Rook felt her face flush. "Wait, I'm not his—!"

"She's not my—! We're just friends, Ikkus!" Fred asserted. "Why would you think she's my, er, 'sweetheart'?"

Ikkus's eyes widened, looking mortified. "I'm deeply sorry, Master Weasley! I am afraid I was misinformed!" The creature was wringing his hands nervously, plainly very distressed by his error.

"It's all right, really," Fred assured him. "It's not a big deal at all! But where did you hear that?"

"The Headmaster's grotesque has been very vocal about a particular girl since the start of term, sir," Ikkus answered, still very anxious. "She said that the girl was Master Weasley's sweetheart, sir."

"Ah… I see," said Fred. "I have to be honest with you Ikkus; that's entirely my fault."

"It's my fault, really," Rook insisted.

"Anyway, it doesn't really matter! Say, Ikkus, do you think you could get Rook something to eat? She hasn't had a chance to eat all day."

"Of course! What shall I prepare?"

Fred turned to Rook who jumped in. "Um, would a peanut butter and jelly sandwich be too much trouble?"

"None at all, miss," said Ikkus. "What sort of preserves would you prefer?"

Rook had not expected to be presented with any variety. "Um… Do you have… raspberry?" she asked.

Ikkus nodded. "We'll have it ready momentarily, miss."

"Can you make me one too, Ikkus? I'd like to try it."

The creatures returned with several sandwiches cut into triangles. Fred took the plate and, to Rook's surprise, led her back out of the kitchens and to an ancient-looking courtyard area in the shadow of an even older-looking clock tower.

"I figured since you've been in the dungeons with Snape all day, you could probably use a bit of sunlight. This courtyard is not quite as popular as the entrance one, so there shouldn't be any teachers asking how we got the food."

They sat together on a stone bench, the plate of sandwiches between them. Rook was still looking around in awe. "This place is really pretty!"

"It's all right. Come on, eat something already, before you pass out."

Rook partook gratefully. As she sat in the clear air of the beautiful castle courtyard with her friend, Snape's cold office with it's nasty jars and offensive smell seemed a million miles away. There were many things Rook wanted to ask Fred as they ate, but first she felt compelled to quietly enjoy the pleasurable calm of the setting.

"This isn't bad at all!" Fred spoke, breaking the silence. He had taken a bite of his sandwich and was apparently satisfied with the culinary experience that was peanut butter and jelly.

"Haven't you had PB and J before?"

"It's more of an American thing, isn't it? I always thought it was made with actual jelly, so I imagined something revolting."

Rook took another bite. "How is this not 'actual jelly'?" she asked, confused. She opened up the bread to look inside the sandwich, just to be sure everything checked out, and found nothing out of the ordinary.

"I mean like gelatin."

"Gelatin? That's disgusting!"

"That's what I'm saying!"

There was another brief silence as Rook finished her sandwich. Fred put his down, his expression suddenly serious.

"Rook, I've been wanting to say something about what you said earlier—"

"There you are!"

George had stepped out into the courtyard and was making his way toward Rook and Fred.

"I've been looking for you everywhere, Fred!" George spoke, obviously peeved.

"Since you left the Hospital Wing, I imagine?"

"Where have you been? And how long have you been out of detention, Rook?"

"Not long," Rook answered. "I was hungry, so Fred got me these. What were you doing in the Hospital Wing?"

"He was feeling ill," Fred answered for him.

"You didn't tell me that! Are you okay, George?"

"Yeah, George, are you okay?" Fred asked, his tone conspicuously lacking sincerity. George seemed as confused by this as Rook.

"I'm fine…" George answered tentatively. "Are you all right, Fred?"

"Now that you mention it," said Fred, getting to his feet, "I think I could use a walk by myself."

And with that Fred strode out of the courtyard, leaving Rook and George to stare after him.

"That was unsettling," said George, a look of concern on his face. "Maybe I should go after him."

"He said he wanted to be alone," said Rook uneasily. "Do you know what's bothering him?"

"Not sure… Was he acting like this before?"

Rook shook her head. "We were having fun, actually. He was being really nice, too."

"Oh… In that case, I'm sorry I interrupted."

"Don't be! I'm happy to see you." Rook stood and stepped closer to George. It occurred to her right then that in the light of the setting sun, the castle courtyard was serene and even romantic. To be here alone with George was almost more than Rook could handle, especially when he turned to smile at her. She came to a halt a safe distance away from him, feeling the need for some kind of buffer.

"I'm happy to see you too, Rook, you have no idea."

Rook suddenly felt like her legs were jelly.

"I've been wanting to talk to you about earlier," George went on, "when you said Fred and I were your best friends—"

"Yeah, about that," Rook interrupted. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't—well, I did mean it, but I—I mean, I know I haven't known you very long, and it's kind of—"

"I feel the same way about you."

Either the sandwiches weren't sitting well, or Rook had butterflies.

All in all, it wasn't a bad Saturday.