"Weasley, I don't want to know why there's a girl in your bed, but you'd better get up and get to Quidditch practice now," I'm woken by Wood's rough voice.
That's when George moves from underneath me. "Gimme a second, Oliver. Would you?" he asks grumpily. I hear Wood's shuffling footsteps away.
"Sweetheart," George nudges me.
"Mpph," I mumble, snuggling against his comforter.
"You can sleep, but I have to go to Quidditch practice, okay? I won't be here when you wake up, Love," he informs me. I nod once to let him know I heard him.
Then, he gets up, moving around the room, grabbing clothes and changing. I have my back turned to him so that he can change. "Bye, Rey," he comes over and whispers, kissing me on the cheek. "C'mon, Freddie. Wood'll have a fit if we're not down there," George calls to his brother, still changing, before heading downstairs to wait for him in the Common Room.
I just roll over and fall back asleep, George's warm blankets pulled up to my chin.
When it's time for me to wake up, I get dressed and head downstairs for a quick breakfast. I can't bring myself to eat this morning, but I grab two slices of toast, spread with marmalade, and head outside to the Quidditch pitch, where Fred and George are racing Harry on their brooms. Carefully, I climb up the bleachers, taking a seat so that I have a good view of practice.
When Fred spots me, he flies over so that he's hovering directly in front of me, looking longingly at the piece of toast in my hand. George follows suit quickly. "Don't worry, Boys. They're for you," I chuckle, handing over the toast. "I figured Wood wouldn't give you time for breakfast."
"Did you eat, Rey?" Fred asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
"Of course," I lie smoothly, forcing a smile on my face. I can't tell if they believe it.
The boys hover there, quickly scarfing down the toast. That's when I spot something odd. "Fred, George, look. Is that the Slytherin team?" I point at the green-robed Quidditch players walking towards the pitch.
"Bloody hell. You're right," Fred peers at them. "Better not mention it to Wood. He's going to flip if they really are heading this way, and we don't need him taking it out on us, right Georgie?" Fred asks.
"Right," George shakes his head disapprovingly at the Slytherins.
However, it quickly becomes quite apparent that they are, in fact, heading this way. "On second thought, maybe we should just tell him," Fred adds nervously.
"Yeah, maybe," George agrees.
The two fly down to Wood together. I scramble down the huge bleachers, not wanting to miss the action. By the time I get down there, Wood's talking to Flint, the Slytherin Team Captain. Quietly, not wanting to draw attention to myself, I stand behind the twins, far shorter than them, making myself well-covered.
I watch uneasily as Flint flaunts first his note from Snape and then his new Seeker, Draco Malfoy, and the expensive new racing brooms he bought the whole team. I want to hit Flint when he insults the twins' brooms, which are all they can afford. I know they desperately want upgrades, but they make do with what they have. I hate how people are always mocking the Weasleys for their family not having as much money as most.
Then, all of a sudden, chaos breaks loose. I have no idea why. Draco calls Hermione something… A Mud-Blood. What does that even mean? Suddenly, Fred and George are jumping at him. Flint blocks them, and I grab the backs of their robes, pulling them back. I don't know what's gotten into them, but I don't need them getting expelled for attacking Malfoy. Besides, it appears as though Ronald's going to take care of that for them. "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" he cries, aiming his wand at Draco.
Except his wand backfires, and, suddenly, Ron's belching slugs. Everyone surrounds him, watching, fascinated, as he continues to spit up slugs. When Harry and Hermione start to move him, I offer help. "Do you need anything? Want me to come with you?" I ask Hermione.
"No, no. That's okay, Rey. Thank you," she shakes her head, her face ashen with worry.
"Anything you need," I reply before turning back to the boys, both of whom are glaring angrily at Malfoy.
"Fred, George. Let's go. I think we all need to take some time and cool off," I urge them, herding the two back towards the castle. "Common Room," I command. The boys just follow, angry looks on their faces.
When we're all seated in the Common Room, Fred and George on the couch and me sprawled across the loveseat, I start to question them. "What the hell happened back there?"
"Malfoy said that-that horrible word," Fred shudders.
"You mean 'Mud-Blood'?" I ask.
"Don't say that!" George shouts, fury all over his face.
"I'm sorry!" I cry. "I don't know what it means!"
"It's a really, really foul name for a Muggle-Born. It means 'dirty blood'. As if the decency of a wizard depends on how far back their wizarding ancestry goes," Fred looks disgusted as he explains.
"Oh," is all I can manage.
"It's not even about Hermione, although I'm upset he said that to her. It's that that little brat has zero respect for anyone! I've always hated him! Always!" George growls, standing and pacing the Common Room.
I sit up on the loveseat, patting the spot beside me. Reluctantly, he sits down beside me. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. Both of you," I look between the two boys, and, kneeling facing him on the couch, run my hands through George's fiery hair, knowing it calms him down. Exhaling, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me down so that I'm sitting again, head against his shoulder. "Thank you, Rey."
"Hey, when do I get some Rey Time?" asks Fred, faking a whine.
"Right now," I giggle, standing to go to him.
George groans loudly but doesn't complain when I get up, sprawling on the loveseat as I go to Fred, laying with my head in his lap. He chuckles, stroking my hair and boop-ing my nose every once in awhile. While he does this, I run my hands through his hair, finding that he likes it almost as much as his brother does, and I fiddle with his large ears every once in awhile. After about an hour of this, I fall asleep, curled up on Fred's lap.