Fred was ready. He was. Why wouldn't he be? He saw her every day for months, so why on Earth would he be nervous about seeing her now? He wouldn't. He wasn't.

"I missed you guys so much!" Rook spoke excitedly when she met Fred and George in the Entrance Hall. She gave George a hug and was about to hug Fred when he stumbled backward into a hapless second year.

"Whoa, Fred," she said, catching him by the sleeve to help him regain his footing. "Being clumsy is my shtick, okay? You just stick to witty one-liners before you cause a fatal accident." With that, Rook hugged him. Before Fred could remember what he was supposed to do with his arms, she had already released him. "You lied to me, by the way."

"What?" he asked blankly. "When?"

"You told me you'd be back before I could get pantalettes on a pig, and I'll have you know there are no less than three hogs waiting for you up in the common room all prettied up in nineteenth-century bloomers."

"Oh, right…" Fred said weakly. "Good on you, that's… that's impressive."

"I'll say!" George chuckled. "And here I thought we'd never find Fred a girlfriend!"

They went straight into the Great Hall together. Once he had some food in him, Fred found himself returning to his old self, though still hyper-aware of every time Rook looked in his direction.

"I really like the comics anthology you guys gave me," she said at one point. "Makes me feel bad, though, that I cheaped out and gave you hand-made gifts."

"Don't worry about that," said George. "The anthology was actually re-gifted. For some reason, our uncle thought he'd get us two copies of the book several years ago, so we had the extra. Still, it was our favorite book growing up, so we wouldn't have given it to just anybody. Also, we happened to really like the comics you drew for us. I, for one, have a new favorite book."

And there it was: the flush of pink in Rook's cheeks whenever George would compliment her, or even smile at her in a particular way. The usual stab of envy seemed to cut deeper into Fred this time, now that he knew what it was, yet he couldn't bring himself to avert his eyes. Rook, however, suddenly became very interested in her carrots.

While George was in the washroom after dinner, Fred had a chance to speak to Rook alone.

"Er, Rook?"

"Yeah, Fred?"

"I wanted to tell you…" he paused, apprehensive. "Er, I… I told George that you told me a secret, something you were planning on telling him. It's just, he knew something was up already, and I thought I should tell him…"

"Oh…" Rook bit her thumbnail nervously.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, I just—"

"No, Fred, it's all right, I want to tell him, but… he's probably expecting something entirely different than… Fred, what if he hates me?"

"If he does, you might as well off him too, because I guarantee you he's an imposter."

"Fred—"

"Sorry, I know I really shouldn't joke about it."

"No, it's okay. I kind of like that you do, just 'cause I know you're… I don't know, not afraid of me, I guess."

"That's where you're wrong, Rook. I'm actually terrified of you, but only because you're a pretty girl, and I'm scared of pretty girls in general."

"Aw, shucks, Freddie, I had no idear you thunk I was purdy!" Rook spoke in a goofy voice with a cross-eyed face to match. Fred laughed out loud, completely taken off-guard. His attempt at flirting had fallen flat, but it felt good to fall back on their old routine.

By the time George had gotten back from the washroom, the common room was mostly empty and Fred started to excuse himself, thinking Rook would want to talk to George alone. To his surprise, she interrupted Fred's exit by grabbing the sleeve of his robe and looking at him with fearful, pleading eyes.

"Er, on second thought, I guess I'll-I'll stay." He sat on the arm of the sofa, feeling awkward.

Rook was far more composed than she was on the night she had told Fred about her former foster father, but he did notice the slightest tremor in her shoulders as she recounted the events to George. George was taken aback, but listened seriously.

"I wish you had told me sooner, Rook," George spoke when she had told him everything.

"I'm sorry, George. I should have; you had a right to know—"

"That's not what I mean, Rook, I just—Have you been worrying about this since the start of term?"

Rook hung her head. "I should have been, I just… It wasn't until I started to think I had real friends that I thought I owed it to you to tell you the truth about me. I don't know why I should get to be here and have fun with you two when I'm responsible for something so horrible…"

Fred and George exchanged a significant look, and Fred knew that George now understood Fred's attitude at the Burrow.

"We are your real friends," said George. "And I doubt you'd hold it against us if it were Fred or me, would you?"

Rook shook her head.

"I just hate to think of you torturing yourself over this all this time," George said sadly. "You know we care about you very much."

"I told her as much," Fred spoke, shrugging. "I also told her you couldn't possibly hate her."

"Hate you? Rook…" George laid a gentle hand over Rook's.

Fred stood. There was only so much he could take. "I really am tired, so I'll just… go… to sleep, that is."

Before Rook or George could say anything, Fred turned on his heel and head for the boys' staircase. He had to leave because he knew exactly how George felt, and Fred really was just a third wheel at this point.

"Fred!"

He stopped. Rook had stood and rushed over to him. She couldn't possibly still be worried about George being angry…?

"I just wanted to say thank you again, for letting me complain and-and for just being there. I'm really glad you're back."

Fred's heart was thumping hard enough to make him paranoid Rook might hear it, as absurd as the thought was. Was this how it was going to be from now on? He needed to get a grip.

"That's, er… I'm glad to be back," he said blandly. "And… and I wanted to say before that I… I also liked the book you made me. It was really very funny."

At this, Rook beamed at him as though she had never received higher praise in her life. Why? His comments hardly reflected how he actually felt. Why did she have to be so… so cute about it?

She went back over to George, and Fred trudged down the boys' staircase to his dormitory. He paused on the stairs and leaned against the curved stone wall.

As much time as he'd had to process his unexpected feelings for Rook, he found he was ill-prepared for this after all. He had abandoned the idea that he was truly in love. He was fifteen years old; it was normal to feel like he was in love, or so he'd heard. It couldn't last. An adolescent infatuation wasn't worth trying to compete with George. And how could he compete, even if he had a mind to? They would all be better off if he stayed out of the way of Rook and George.

He just hadn't expected it to hurt this much.

They had another day off before classes started up again, but Rook had a tutoring session in the afternoon, and she was keen on playing in the snow. She had invited Angelina, Alicia, and Lee, but they had (wisely) opted to stay in the comfort and warmth of the Gryffindor common room. Fred almost wished he had as well, but it was no use. He wanted to be with her, even if it meant he had to watch her flirt with George.

"I've never built a snowman before!" she said as she rushed out into the freezing air.

"Snow way!" said George.

"Icy you must have a lot of experience with it," Rook replied. "I could use your adv-ice."

"Snow problem!"

"If you two don't stop it, I'm going to Full-Body Bind you and leave you out here," said Fred.

"You went out of your way to not call it the 'Freezing Spell'," said George with disappointment.

"Fred, you're so cold!" Rook pouted.

"That's it—" said Fred, bewitching the snow around them into snowballs and sending them pelting toward George and Rook.

"Hey!" Rook shouted as she fell under the onslaught of snowballs. "That's not fair; you're using magic! Ack—!"

"You have a wand too, you know," Fred reminded her with a smirk. "I'll stop if you stop with the terrible snow puns!"

"Okay, okay! I concede!" Rook called desperately. Fred walked over to Rook and helped her up. She brushed snow off her robes and grumbled, "Snow much for that."

"You little—!"

Just then, a massive amount of powdery snow hit Fred from behind, knocking him over. He heard Rook giggling as he struggled against the artificial blizzard.

"Admit it, Fred! You've been over-powdered; there's snow escape!"

"All right! Just cut it out!"

"Not until you say one—a snow pun!"

"George—aaapbt—stop it!" Fred shouted, nearly choking on snow flying around him. "This is snow laughing matter!"

George's wand hand fell as he laughed. Rook rushed forward to pull Fred out of the mound of snow that had built up around him. He pulled her down into the snow with him and they engaged in a short scuffle. He caught her mittened hands as she scrambled to toss snow in his face. Her cheeks were flushed with red from the cold and there were snow crystals in her disheveled hair.

"Enough," Fred said, getting to his feet. "You said you wanted to build a snowman, right?" He pulled Rook to her feet. "We're wasting time."

"Someone's a sore loser," Rook teased.

"We should get started, though," George said. "It's getting late, and you don't want to leave your snowman incomplete."

The trio piled snow together. Rook insisted on not using magic, but she managed to build a pretty decent-looking snowman in spite of this. She ran around looking for sticks and rocks for the arms and face, and they were soon admiring the finished product.

"So, what are you going to name him?"

"Hmmm…" Rook considered this. "Well, I could make him two of every snow animal, an ark, and name him Snow-ah, but I don't think we have time for that."

"How about Ice-ac?" Fred suggested.

Rook gave Fred a surprised look. "Nice," she said approvingly. "We'll call him Ice-ac Newton!"

"Ice-ac Newton…?" asked George. "Wait, you mean like the alchemist?"

"What?"

They gratefully returned to the warmth of the castle and got ready for dinner. To Fred's irritation, Spencer met Rook at the Gryffindor table after dinner to walk with her to the library.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid I have to steal her from you again," Spencer said cheerfully as Rook stood, her face as red as it had been out in the snow.

"That was unsettling…" said Fred as he watched them disappear through the doors of the Great Hall. "He's way more chipper than usual, and she's—"

"—more flustered than usual."

"They were here together all winter break."

"You don't think…?"

Fred dropped his fork on his plate and stared at the remnants of his dinner. Amidst all his emotional turmoil, he had almost forgotten Spencer and his thinly-veiled attempt at getting closer to Rook by staying at school over break. Had something happened between them?

Fred and George went back to the common room where Lee was frantically working on homework assignments at the last minute and Angelina and Alicia were discussing their next Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. The twins joined in, Fred glad for a distraction. They killed time in the common room, and Rook only climbed through the portrait hole right before curfew.

"All right, Rook?" George asked casually.

"Where have you been?" Fred asked less casually. "Your session is only an hour, isn't it?"

Rook was definitely more flustered than usual. She mumbled something incoherent, sat down and immediately began riffling through her bag to avoid eye-contact with them.

"Don't tell me," Fred said apprehensively, "you were with Spencer, right? Are you going out with him now, or something?"

Rook stopped rummaging and bit her lip, still not looking at them.

"It's true, isn't it?" Fred said incredulously. "You're with that self-important prefect! I don't believe it!"

Rook looked at Fred now, her expression annoyed. "So what if I am! If you know I like him, why do you think I'd just be okay with you insulting him to my face?"

"Excuse me, I didn't know you were so in love with the ponce!"

Rook glared at Fred. "I'm tired," she said shortly. "I think I'm just gonna go to sleep. Goodnight." She stood and stormed over to the girls' staircase.

Fred's breath was shallow and and his fists were clenched tightly as he watched her go. What could she possibly see in that smug, duplicitous wanker? Since when did she even like him? Wasn't she supposed to have a crush on George?

Fred froze. He looked over at George sitting next to him. He was staring at the place where Rook had vanished, his expression etched with unmistakable heartache.