Disclaimer: Any characters, places etc. that you recognise belong to J K Rowling. I'm just a humble writer who likes to play around and write love stories.

A/N: Thanks very much to my reviewers so far!

IIIIIII

"Come back here, you arse!" I yelled, tearing down the stairs after George, who had decided most unwisely to steal my bloody bra and go parading it about, waving it around his head and laughing. "You're like a five year old! You git, give it me back!"

He cut through the sitting room, where an exasperated Mrs Weasley sat, knitting, and I followed him through to the kitchen. He was quicker than me and darted outside, where it was dazzlingly bright and sunny, but I had nothing on my mind but getting my rather personal possession back and murdering George Weasley.

We tore across the large lawn, through the open field, towards the broom shed, where Fred was talking to (and most likely teasing) Ron. They both looked up as we ran towards them, and George threw his twin my bra, laughing and yelling "Run with it, run!"

Fred examined it, and I sprinted up to him, ready to tackle him to the ground for it, but instead I was rather relieved that he didn't seem intent on running. He stared at it, holding it at arm's length, and threw it back to me. I caught it, my eyebrows raising at his reaction.

"Thank you," I smiled, though felt a little uncertain, knowing there was probably another prank involved.

"Oh, you idiot!" George sighed, looking thoroughly disappointed. "Why d'you do that?"

Fred smirked wickedly, staring at me. "I didn't want to touch a girl's bra. I might catch something, yuck."

"Oh, very funny," I replied, dryly, and turned on my heel, marching back towards the house. As I did so I glanced over my shoulder, to glare at one of the twins in particular. "And don't think you've got away with this, George. I'm going to murder you later, don't you worry."

IIIIIII

I stood in the kitchen with Mrs Weasley, helping her prepare lunch for the day, feeling very comfortable and at home. Mrs Weasley was somewhat a mystery to me - she had so many children and pressures and responsibility, but she managed to be a lovely, if slightly fussy, woman with time to spare for even her children's friends. She was wonderful.

"Your father was alright with you staying here, wasn't he, dear?" she enquired, waving her wand to slice a loaf of bread. I looked up from where I had been slicing cucumber to answer, smiling a little at her concern.

"He was fine with it. He was just saying the other day he needs to invite you and Mr Weasley around for dinner sometime, as it's been too long since he's properly seen the both of you."

"Oh, that's very sweet of him," she beamed, beginning to butter the sliced bread. "I'll get Arthur to talk to him at work and arrange something."

"I'm sure Dad and Carol will be thrilled," I grinned, piling the fillings onto the buttered bread whilst Mrs Weasley reached into the cupboard for enough plates. My father and Carol were very good friends with a lot of wizarding families, and often had them round for dinner. My dad seemed to get on with everybody, even some more, well, sinister families, such as the Malfoys.

"I'll go and see where Ginny and Ron have got to," Mrs Weasley stated, laying down each plate onto the kitchen table. "Would you mind fetching the twins for me, dear?"

"Of course not," I said, quickly, and made my way out into the garden. I hadn't spoken to George once since the bra incident, as was my duty and right as a woman, but it wouldn't do to displease Mrs Weasley, and so I had to go and see him.

They were both messing around on their broomsticks, throwing apples at one another from the large apple trees that hung over one side of the garden. Upon seeing me, they promptly threw them in my direction, but they didn't even nearly reached me. I supposed they didn't want to tempt my anger anymore, because when they wanted to be, they were bloody good shots.

"Fred," I shouted, haughtily, not looking at George once. He circled lower on his broomstick, flying rather too close to me for my liking and ruffling my hair. I scowled, sidestepping him as he tried to do it again.

"What, you want a ride, Paisley?" he asked, jokingly. I raised my eyebrows at this. Everyone present knew I'd never, ever go on a broomstick again, after the infamous Broomstick Disaster of 1989 (our first year flying lesson, in which I managed to knock Madam Hooch into the rest of the class, soar thirty feet in the air and then promptly crash into the lake).

"Actually," I sniffed, "your mother wants you and your twin in, as lunch is ready."

"Oh, come off it," George laughed incredulously, landing perfectly by my side. "You're not still mad at me, are you?"

"I shall see you inside, Fred," I said, coolly, and stalked back to the house before he could see the grin breaking across my face. I was far too used to their jokes and childish sense of humour to really be mad. In fact, I'd had much worse done to me than having my bra stolen, but let's not go there.

Once back in the kitchen, I settled myself next to Ron and tucked into my sandwich. He and his little sister were already at the table, and Mrs Weasley entered a moment later and ate with us as well. Fred and George arrived soon enough, me swiftly kicking George under the table, and he throwing a slice of cucumber at me.

"George!" Mrs Weasley scolded. "Please, have some manners."

"But she kicked me!"

"I did not!" I retorted, glaring at him as though offended by the accusation. Mrs Weasley merely sighed in an exasperated way, and when George looked outraged that I'd gotten away with it, I stuck my tongue out at him.

"What's everyone doing for the rest of the day?" Ginny piped up, looking at her brothers and me. "I'm really bored."

"George, Claudia and I are going to do some flying," Fred smiled, sweetly, glancing at me. I raised an eyebrow, wondering just how serious he was being.

"Can I join in?" Ron asked quickly. The twins both shook their heads and he sat back, looking sulky. I sighed, brushing the crumbs from my hands onto the plate and standing.

"You can have my place, Ron, because I'm not flying," I smiled at him, walking round to the sink and rinsing my plate under the tap. "And thanks Mrs Weasley, that was really nice."

"No problem, dear, I - goodness, who are they for?" she exclaimed suddenly, and we all turned to see what she was looking at. Through the open window we could see three owls soaring towards the house, each with a letter clasped in its beak. "Oh, it might be your O.W.L. results!"

I dropped the plate into a sink with a loud clatter, but it didn't break the horror I was currently feeling. I had done terribly, I was sure, and I quickly backed away from the window as the three owls flew in and landed neatly, one by each of the twins and I. We stared at them, and I chanced a glance at my friends to see them looking, actually, slightly nervous.

"Don't murder us, okay, Mum?" Fred asked, laughing slightly, though there was an underlying anxiety in his tone. She simply made a shushing noise and motioned to the owls, gesturing for us to hurry up. Swallowing heavily, I untied my letter and ripped it open, not giving myself a chance to hesitate. The owl flew off, though I only vaguely noticed.

Pulling the letter from the envelope, I examined the contents, holding my breath.

Ancient Runes - O

Astronomy - A

Care of Magical Creatures - A

Charms - E

Defence Against the Dark Arts - A

Herbology - E

History of Magic - P

Potions - A

Transfiguration - A

After reading over my results for the second time, I let out a long breath, breaking out into a grin. I'd done it! I'd passed my exams, and much better than I'd hoped for! Well, I had failed History of Magic, but I hardly cared. And an O in Ancient Runes! It had been my favourite subject, but I never knew I was that good.

I handed my results quickly over to Mrs Weasley, who read them and congratulated me heartily. We all then turned to Fred and George, who were muttering to one another, but fell silent as everyone's gaze fell on them. With a quick glance at one another, they stood up. George stretching and saying, "Well, Fred and I best be getting on with our fly --"

"Just you two wait a moment," Mrs Weasley said, standing up and walking over to them. "How did your OWLs go? What have you got?"

Fred mumbled something under his breath, and George looked down at the floor. Mrs Weasley asked, sharply, "What?"

"Well, we - er - we passed Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Got As in Charms and Defence, and an E in Transfiguration."

"You - you mean, you failed everything else?" Mrs Weasley asked, in a very, very weak voice. George took one quick look at Fred, and then nodded, hesitantly.

There was a moment's silence.

Then the shouting began.

Whilst Mrs Weasley screamed and shouted at her two bright red sons, Ginny, Ron and I quickly scooted out into the garden, feeling awkward and a little embarrassed for Fred and George. Then again, I myself was quite unnerved that I'd gotten better results than them. They were fantastic at magic.

"How did they only get three OWLs?" Ron asked, looking stunned. Ginny shrugged, and we made our way through the garden, the two of them leading us towards the broom shed. I couldn't help but feel, despite my slight disappointment in them, well, sorry for my friends, back there being yelled at for something that couldn't be changed.

We reached the broom shed and Ron withdrew his own, battered looking broomstick, whilst Ginny craftily grabbed one of the twins' brooms. Ron took out another broom, offering it to me, but I shook my head. The din from the kitchen seemed to have died down somewhat, so I smiled apologetically, grateful for the excuse.

"I think I'll go and see how those two are," I grinned, backing away and walking back towards the house. "You two have fun flying, though."

"See you later," Ginny called, waving. I smiled, and entered the kitchen a moment later. George was the only one there, scrubbing the breakfast dishes and looking thoroughly disgruntled. He looked up as I walked towards him, and stuck his tongue out at me.

"Honestly," he laughed, glancing over to where my results lay on the kitchen table. "Who would have thought that you'd get good grades? When's the apocalypse?"

"Ha ha," I said, dryly, flicking his nose. He swiped my head with a hand covered in soap suds and I pulled a face. "So, three OWLs, eh? I know that your mother doesn't, um, think that particularly good, but are you pleased?"

He shrugged, absentmindedly clicking his tongue. "You know that Fred and I really don't care about our education. So long as we passed some lessons, enough to stay on for the next two years, we're fine."

"Fair enough," I smiled, running a hand through my hair. "So, why are you cleaning up? I never thought I'd see the day."

"Mum made me," he muttered, darkly. "She's escorted Fred upstairs to clean our room - ha, he got the worst job - and she said we're going to be 'having a talk' with her and Dad tonight when he gets home."

I groaned sympathetically, rolling my eyes. "I'll go up and ensure Fred isn't beheaded, or suffocating underneath the tides of mess, shall I?"

"If you want," George said, non-committingly, turning back to the sink. "Just make sure you avoid Mum, she's on the warpath now."

I grinned, waved goodbye and made my way out of the kitchen. As I reached the doorway, he called after me, "Oh, and Claudia?"

I turned questioningly, to see him smiling. "Well done on your results."

"Cheers," I grinned. "And you."

I heard him laughing as I exited, taking the stairs two at a time onto the first floor. Mr and Mrs Weasley's room was on this floor, and as I passed the open door Mrs Weasley bustled out. She stopped when she saw me, smiling. "Sorry, dear, I thought you were George. Well done on your results, again."

"Thanks," I grinned, thankful she wasn't mad at me for letting the twins do so badly. I think I'm just going to write a letter to my family and tell them."

"Okay," she smiled, turning back into her room. "Make sure Fred's actually cleaning, won't you?"

"'Course," I laughed, and made my way up the next flight of stairs. I passed Percy's room (he was at work) and pushed open the door to the twins room, smirking. Fred was looking even more annoyed than George had, and was attempting to hang some clothes up in their shared wardrobe, but simply creasing everything in the process.

Rolling my eyes, I went over to him and took the pair of trousers he was attempting to straighten out of his hands. He stuck his tongue out at me as I hung them up, shaking my head. "I hope you're not planning to live alone at any time. This is basic stuff, you know, hanging clothes up."

"Don't worry," he winked. "I'm planning to marry someone who will do it for me."

I shoved him in the shoulder, scowling playfully. "You realise that's really sexist, don't you? You're not going to meet a woman who's willing to clean up after you all day whilst you go around pranking or whatever."

"I'll find her, I'm sure," he beamed, confidently, before looking at me with an expression I'd grown used to recognising as his 'I Have A Great Idea' look. Naturally, my eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why don't you marry me? You can do my cleaning, I can do my joke shop."

"Oh, shut it," I groaned, pushing him again. "I'm most likely never going to get married, let alone to you, simply to do your cleaning. Honestly."

He chuckled, then turned and busied himself with folding up some t-shirts that had previously been crumpled on the floor. "Why d'you think you'll never be married?"

I shrugged, picking up one of the t-shirts and helping him. "I dunno really. I just can't imagine it happening. I'm hardly the dating sort, let alone the marrying sort, am I? I don't think I even want to."

"Not the dating sort?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "You were the dating sort with Diggory."

"Oh, for goodness -" I drew up short, closing my eyes and silently praying for patience. When I opened them again it was to see him grinning wickedly at me. "Will you and George ever forget that?"

"Why should we?" Fred retorted, grinning wider. "Unless you regret it?"

"Of course I don't," I sighed, exasperated. "But we were in second year! It meant nothing! It only lasted a couple of months, we were really young, and we're just good friends now. You two are the only ones who still care about it."

"Yeah, 'just good friends' is exactly what you are, what with the flirty looks you send back and forth whenever you're together." He rolled his eyes, and I scowled. It was a complete exaggeration - yes, Cedric Diggory and I had gone out, but we'd only been thirteen and it consisted of nothing more than hand holding and the odd stolen kiss. Never mind that he may have grown into the most handsome boy in the year, we were just friends.

"He's a nice guy!" I tried to protest, but he simply raised his eyebrows at this. "Oh, shut up, he is. Just because he beat you at Quidditch, it doesn't mean you need to be nasty about him all the time."

"Maybe I'm just really protective over you and my bitterness has nothing to do with Quidditch," he said, casually, opening his chest of drawers to put the folded t-shirts in. I stared at him, suspiciously, and when he looked up at met my eye he winked. "What, you think I'm being serious?"

"Oh, of course not," I lied quickly, running a hand through my dark hair. "As if you'd ever be so considerate."

"Precisely," he grinned, before faltering. "Wait, that's not a very nice thing to say, is it?"

I smiled winningly, and he shook his head, evidently exasperated. Just as he made to speak, to most likely mock me in some way, the door flew open and George ran in, looking rather disturbed. I stared at him, a little alarmed.

"Doom! Doom is upon us," he moaned, collapsing face first onto his bed, and saying, into his pillow, "She wants me to help her plant pansies in the garden!"

IIIIIII

After sending off the Weasley's family owl to my father (having no owl of my own, or, in fact, any pet), I settled down at five o'clock to play a game of Exploding Snap with Ron. The twins were upstairs, doing whatever it is they liked to do with spare times (I guessed developing new pranks, myself), and seeing as I had great luck when it came to this game I agreed cheerfully to play it with the younger boy.

We sat in the kitchen, playing it on the table, whilst Ginny watched (having announced she would play the winner) and Mrs Weasley bustled around us, cleaning and preparing the dinner. Just as one of the cards exploded, in Ron's hand, and I burst into laughter, the door swung open from the outside. I looked up, to see Percy and Mr Weasley come in from work.

"Good evening everyone," Mr Weasley smiled wearily, settling himself down at the table next to Ron, who was sucking the side of his hand. I guess the explosion must have hurt a little. Percy inclined his head at all of us and sat by me, casting a curious look at Ron who was cursing under his breath.

"What's wrong with you, Ron?" Mr Weasley asked, after he had kissed Mrs Weasley on the cheek as she placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. I smirked, as Ron went red, slowly lowering his hand from his mouth.

"Exploding Snap," he said, motioning to the cards.

"Claudia thrashed him," Ginny giggled, and I laughed. There was no way to really win the game strategically, but I had a trick or two that I'd learned from the twins over the years. Percy sniffed, almost disapprovingly, and then glanced at Mrs Weasley.

"What's for dinner tonight, Mother?"

"It will be done in a moment, we're having Shepard's pie and potato. Ron, could you clear away the cards, please? And Ginny, could you set the table?"

The two stood up to obey, but not without some sulkiness, and I stood too. "D'you want me to get the twins down?"

"Yes please, dear," Mrs Weasley smiled, beginning to pile out the food onto the waiting plates. I saluted them all and made my way up to the second floor, humming to myself as I did so. For what seemed like the hundredth time, I found myself wishing my family was a bit more like this one. I even had some fondness for Percy, despite the disagreements we often had.

As I neared the twins room, I could hear them muttering to one another. Not wanting to be called an eavesdropper if they found out, but wanting to know what they were discussing in such urgent tones, I slowed down dramatically, listening hard.

"You don't understand, though," Fred was saying, sounding petulant.

"'Course I do, I'm not thick," George replied, exasperated. "I reckon you should just say something and get it out the way. What's the worse that could happen?"

"Hmm, let's think," Fred replied, voice smothered in sarcasm. "She could never talk to me again?"

Feeling extremely curious, but realising I was being a bit of a terrible friend by listening, I opened the door, trying to make my face as impassive as possible. They were both sat on their beds, George looking sympathetic, and Fred looking moody and somewhat confused. They looked up sharply as I entered, both sharing a panicked look. Perhaps my impassiveness wasn't believable after all.

"Did you - er - did you hear what we were saying?" George asked cautiously, as Fred sent him a scandalised look and hit him on the back of the head. Trying to seem innocent, I shook my head, scratching my nose.

"Which obviously means you did," Fred sighed, standing up and scowling.

"I mean - well, yeah," I admitted awkwardly, before hastily adding. "Only by accident. Who d'you not want to tell what about?"

Fred blinked, before smiling slightly. "You know, that made no discernable sense, but me being a genius, I think I get it."

"Well, good," I replied, grinning back, albeit tentatively. I had no idea what could make him be in such a foul mood, especially with his twin. "So…?"

"I put a curse on Ginny so that if she looks into a mirror she'll see Ron as her reflection," he shrugged, as George began to snigger mischievously. "I heard her telling Mum about it, and if Mum finds out about it, I'll be murdered. I wondered if coming clean to Ginny might make her not tell Mum about it."

"Oh," I laughed, relief coming into me that it was something so trivial. "I dunno what you should do, hopefully it will wear off?"

"Yeah, I hope so," he shrugged, yawning and stretching. "So, what was it you came up here and intruded for, eh?"

"Oh!" I said suddenly, having quite forgotten the reason I'd come in the first place. "I was sent up to tell you dinner's ready. So, yeah. Dinner's ready."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" George demanded, and the two of them pushed past me out into the corridor. I sighed at their lack of manners, but couldn't help but notice the look George sent Fred, full of meaning that I couldn't quite decipher, and the way Fred's face fell into lines of moodiness once more, as we made our way down to dinner.

IIIIIII

As I helped Ginny clear away the plates that night, I noticed that she glanced at the mirror nailed next to the sink, inspecting her reflection for a brief moment. Though most could see it as a natural movement, I assumed she was checking to see if she still looked like Ron to only her eyes, and so leant over to her, whispering, "Is the curse off yet?"

"The what?" she asked, raising her red eyebrows. I shot a look at the rest of the family, who were all talking and oblivious to us, and went on.

"Well, you know, you look like Ron in the mirror?"

"I - sorry?" she asked, plainly confused. "I dunno what you're on about."

"Oh - er - never mind then, one of Fred and George's pranks," I said, forcing out a laugh, before shooting another look at the pair of them. The joke hadn't even been funny, Fred was evidently losing his touch.

It was only as I rinsed the first plate underneath the tap that it struck me.

Something else he needed to tell someone, supposedly female, was getting him down - something that he couldn't even tell me. I glanced at him, feeling a mixture of confusion and hurt, before heaving a great sigh and getting on with cleaning the dishes.

IIIIIII

A/N: Hope you liked it! Please review.