When the boys and I go to breakfast the next morning, the whole Great Hall is abuzz. Apparently, there has been another attack. A student this time. The twins and I go and find Lee Jordan, who quickly fills us in. Colin Creevey, a first year Gryffindor, was supposedly petrified while trying to visit Harry in the hospital wing.
"Stupid boy. If it hadn't been the heir of Slytherin, Pomfrey certainly would've got him," Lee makes a weak attempt at a joke.
Looking around the Great Hall, I notice Ginny sitting alone, staring off into space. "You boys stay here. I'll be right back," I demand, going off to talk to her.
"Ginny? Are you alright?" I ask when she doesn't hear me approach. The girl's head snaps around to look at me, eyes wide, but, when she recognizes me, she goes back to staring at nothing. "Ginny? What's the matter?"
"Colin. How could this happen?" she mutters, not appearing to be talking specifically to me.
"Hey," I grab her attention. "It's going to be okay, alright? It's going to be okay," I smile weakly at the girl, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. Thinking it's probably better if she's left alone, I go back to the boys.
When I reach them, I nudge Fred gently. "What's the matter, Love?" he asks, looking away from Lee, when he senses something's wrong.
"Can I talk to you and George for a second?" I ask.
"Sure," he nods, excusing himself and his brother from their conversation with Lee.
"I'm really worried about Ginny," I confide in them. "She's been acting really strange. Staring into space, muttering at no one in particular. I don't know what's going on with her."
"It's probably nothing, Sweetheart," Fred reassures me. "The poor girl has never had a single threat to her safety in her entire life. Mummy and Daddy's only daughter, she's always been coddled and babied. She's just not handling the exposure to danger well. That's all," Fred nudges me comfortingly.
I just nod, not quite convinced. She's their sister, though, so maybe they know best.
When McGonagall comes around asking for names of those who are staying for Christmas, the twins insist we all stay, not really wanting to visit Bill in Egypt with their parents, and knowing full-well that I can't go home to my father and my uncle. They convince me that it'll be the best Christmas ever, especially because I'll be conscious unlike last year.
On Thursday afternoon, during Potions, we make Swelling Solution. With a glimmer in his eye, Professor Snape remarks highly of the consistency of my solution before turning on his heel and critiquing that of Neville. Sometimes, I think I'm the only non-Slytherin he's actually fond of. I don't know why either.
The class gets interesting, though, when Goyle's solution explodes, splattering most of the class. Quickly, Snape administers Deflating Draught. When everyone has returned to normal, Snape scoops out the charred remains of a Filibuster firework I'm sure is Fred's. Looking around the class, I find the only three people, aside from me, who would've had access to Fred's precious Filibusters.
"Dueling Club!" George exclaims, walking up to the notice board. "First meeting tonight!"
"Why not. Got nothing better to do," Fred shrugs.
"You up to it, Rey?" George asks.
"I'm always game for anything," I grin, winking cheekily.
So, at eight o'clock the three of us head back to the Great Hall, where the meeting is being held. The long dining tables have been replaced by a solid gold stage, and most of the school seems to be crowded around. That's when Lockhart and Snape walk out onto the stage. I'm grateful for Snape's presence. That makes up a bit for Lockhart's ignorance.
When the two professors duel, it's plain to see who is the better of the two. Snape disarms Lockhart almost immediately, throwing him back off the stage and into a wall, leaving him sprawling painfully on the floor. Lockhart stands and tries to play it off as though he had allowed that to happen, but it's very clear, at least to me, that that was not the case.
Then, the professors begin to pair us up. Luckily, Snape gets to the twins and I first. He tsks a bit. "This is no good. You two cannot be together," he sneers when the twins gravitate toward each other and I to Lee. "George, you're with Mr. Jordan. Fred with Miss Tyler."
I swear he almost smiles at me. I'm sure he must know I'm not unhappy with this arrangement. It's quite obvious to everyone how close I am with the twins.
"You ready for an arse beating, Freddie?" I joke while we wait for the instructors to give us further orders.
"You wish, Sweetheart," he winks at me before Lockhart starts spitting instructions.
"Face your partners! And bow!" he cries.
Fred bows fancifully at me, twirling his wand hand as he does, struggling to keep a straight face. I, in turn, curtsy with a pretend skirt, which sends me into a fit of giggles. Next, Lockhart gives us instructions to disarm our opponents.
Drawing my wand quickly, I shout "Expelliaramus!", trying to make my voice heard above the din of other voices.
This sends Fred flying backwards, not being fast enough. I feel a blush of pride heat my cheeks as I go and help Fred up, offering him a hand. He takes it gracefully, never a sore loser, which is something I love about my Freddie.
"Blimey, you weren't kidding about that arse beating, were you, Rey?" he chuckles, rubbing his neck where he landed at an odd angle.
"Nope," I pop the "p". "I'm not as small and fragile as you think I am," I wink.
When Lockhart starts giving more instructions, Fred and I just kind of ignore them, favoring joking around together. However, when all of a sudden there's a giant snake in the room, whatever we were just laughing about is no longer funny, because it's slithering toward Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Harry seems to be egging it on. Then, it's gone, and I let out a shuddering sob of relief. I can hear both the twins sigh loudly as well, grateful it's gone.
"Oh my God. Harry Potter's a parselmouth," Fred whispers.
"What's a parselmouth?" I look up at him with wide eyes, thoroughly confused.
"C'mon," he grabs my hand and starts pulling me to the door, George close behind. "I'll explain when we get upstairs."
Walking up to the boys' dormitory, I fall back on Fred's bed, which gives me the feeling of being somewhere both familiar and completely strange at the same time. It just doesn't have the same George feel or smell, though it's relatively the same bed. Fred hops in beside me, pulling his blankets up so they tuck in beneath our chins. George sprawls at the foot of the bed, looking at the top of the canopy that surrounds us as though it's the most fascinating thing in the world.
"Okay, a parseltongue is a wizard who can talk to snakes," Fred begins.
"That doesn't sound so bad," I give him a puzzled look, unsure why everyone was so upset if that's all it is.
"Oh, but it gets worse. It's not exactly a common gift, and it's what Salazar Slytherin was well-known for. That's why the Slytherin symbol is a snake. Now, with all the Chamber of Secrets stuff, people are going to think he is the Heir of Slytherin," Fred explains, stroking my hair softly as I rest my head on his shoulder.
"Oh, that is bad," I yawn.
"Yeah, it is. Now, it's time for bed. You're sleepy. Do you have pajamas?" Fred asks, concerned.
"Yeah," I nod, rubbing my eyes.
"Are you sure you don't want to sleep in my bed tonight?" he asks. I can feel George's eyes on me.
"Yeah, I'm sure. You're still kind of a kicker," I wink at Fred.
"Oh, I'll show you a kicker," he grins wickedly, holding me to his chest while attempting to kick me lightly. I giggle and make attempts to wriggle out of his grip, but his Quidditch career has made him strong, so eventually I just concede to saying "uncle" and allow him this one win.
Then, standing up from the warm bed, I move toward George's, ruffling his hair as I walk past him. "Come to bed, Loser," I grin at him. He chuckles, hopping up from the bed to join me.
In the morning, for pretty much the first time, I'm awake first. Gently, I run my fingers through George's bright hair, knowing that it will probably wake him up. Sure enough, in a moment or two he opens his eyes sleepily.
"Hey there, Handsome. Sorry to wake you, but I was bored," I grin.
"You're fine. It gives me a chance to say thank you, anyway." he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair.
"Thank you?" I ask, unsure what for.
"For turning Fred down last night. Thank you," he clarifies.
"I've told you once, and I'll tell you a thousand more times. I would never be able to get this from anyone else," I shrug.
"What are you getting? You lost me there," he smirks at me.
"Loved, comforted, cared for," I start ticking the things off on my fingers. I know I should feel embarrassed, but I simply can't. He's my George. I have no reason to be embarrassed.
"Thank you, Beautiful. Now, what kind of trouble do you want to get into at this hour?" he asks.
"You just read my mind."