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: Aw, thanks so much for all your reviews so far! You're too kind. Hope you like this chapter!
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The third week of July came with a surprising downpour of rain. It somewhat limited what we could do for fun, as before the majority of our time was spent outdoors. It led to tempers being lost easily, as we were all cooped up together in the house, but at the same time I found myself getting to know Ron and Ginny better, which was nice.
When you spend weeks on end with a particular family, you get to fit in so well it's almost as though you're one of them. It was the same with me and the Weasleys. I fit snugly into the order of things, determining, for instance, who's turn it was to wash the dishes, where to sit at the table, and what time you were expected to be awake by.
I also was getting used to quirks of various family members. I'd long known the twins were grouchy in the morning, but some new things were coming out. Ron, it seemed, was horrified at any talk of girls and romance; Percy was remarkably kind to insects and animals (I learned this when he took care to ensure a spider inside the house wasn't crushed, by taking it out into the garden carefully); Mrs Weasley tended to spoil her daughter more than her sons; Mr Weasley had an odd habit of tapping melodically on the table; Ginny played with her hair so much it almost drove me to ripping it out.
All in all, though, I found myself liking the Weasleys so much I felt guilty to my own family. They were like the nice siblings I'd never had, the fussing mother and caring father I'd never had. My own home was far from being all doom, gloom and abuse, but for some reason I felt better at The Burrow. I made sure to write to my father and Catherine every few days to fight away my guilt.
Finally, on the Thursday of the third week of July, the rain cleared. I found this out, unfortunately, by having a bucket of ice cold water dumped over my head. I sat up, gasping, the icy sensation running down my body. When I had spluttered and muttered for a good minute or two, I pushed my sopping wet hair from my eyes, and found myself looking up into the grinning faces of Fred and George.
"What - the - hell?" I choked, shivering and crawling out of bed.
"Come on, get dressed, there's no rain!" Fred said, quickly and excitedly. "Come on! Fresh air! Broomsticks!"
"Piss off," I grumbled, looking down at myself despairingly. The water had caused my usually baggy purple pyjamas to cling to my body, and I crossed my arms somewhat self-consciously. "Do you two have a death wish or something? Why couldn't you have just woken me up without the water?"
"It's more fun that way," George grinned, evidently thrilled at my anger. "Look on the bright side, you don't need a shower now!"
"Hooray," I mumbled, horribly aware of how revealing my top was, now it was stuck to my body. I looked up and met Fred's gaze - unlike his twin, he was not smiling, but instead merely had his eyebrows raised. I felt my cheeks go pink, for no reason I could fathom, and turned away. "Can you both bugger off while I get dressed, please?"
"What, we're lecherous now, are we?" Fred laughed, lavishly looking me up and down. I scowled, feeling rather uncomfortable about the mocking. Upon seeing my face, however, he sighed heavily. "Fine. Evidently Georgie-boy and I aren't trustworthy."
"No, you're not," I said, shortly, and they seemed to get the message, and left. Once the door was shut behind the two of them, I uncrossed my arms and ran my hands over my face in an attempt to wake myself up more thoroughly. My mind was sleep-clogged and, now I was rather damp and cold, to top it all off.
As I shook my head, spraying water from my hair all over the room, I found myself thinking upon my friendship with the twins. I had always got on better with boys than girls, but they had an odd way of making me both comfortable and uncomfortable. Then again, if anyone else but Fred, George or Lee had made a joke and had looked at me so unabashedly as Fred had just done, I'd probably have punched them in the face.
So why was it different with them? Why hadn't I felt defensive and violated with Fred? I guess I'd known him too long to take him seriously. We were best friends, me and the twins and Lee, and I couldn't really imagine it any other way. Other possibilities were too weird and unsettling to even consider.
A few minutes later I was washed and dressed for the day, and entered the kitchen to find only Fred and George in there. According to my watch it was ten o'clock, so I assumed everyone else was out making the most of the sunny day. They looked up from where they were sitting, waiting, and stood up, smiling.
"What did you have planned for today then?" I asked, dully, dreading their answer of 'flying'. I didn't fancy being left to my own devices again (it usually involved me sat upon the grass and watching them fly, which wasn't exactly interesting). Seeing George's eyes straying to the fields outside, I added sharply, "If you two are going on your brooms I may as well Floo home."
"Party pooper," George groaned, and I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Actually," Fred laughed, stretching luxuriously. "We were thinking about going into the town - you know, Ottery St. Catchpole? - and go to the little shop there. We're running low on our supplies of sweets, after all. Muggle ones, that is."
Surprised, but pleasantly so, I smiled. "That sounds good. I've never been before."
"Goody," Fred smiled, and we made our way out of the house. As we passed through the large front yard towards the gate, I noticed that Mrs Weasley was gardening. As we walked by her, she looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun with a hand.
"Don't go getting into fights with any more Muggles, will you?" she asked, sternly.
"As if we would!" George scoffed, though smiled at Fred and I.
"Hm," she sighed, suspiciously. "I'm going to give the bedrooms a bit of a spring clean, so I'll do yours first. It's bound to be the worst."
"Alright," they said together, shrugging, and we carried on, through the gate. The trip into the town, I'd been told, would take about twenty minutes, and we walked the first five at a leisurely pace, in silence. However, as we went on our relatively short journey, a sudden thought struck me.
"Doesn't Cedric Diggory live in Ottery St. Catchpole?" I asked, glancing sideways to see their reactions. Predictably, they shared a dark look, and I resisted shouting at them both with some difficulty. It was madness how awkward they were with him. He was a perfectly pleasant boy, and really hadn't meant to offend them by dating me and beating Gryffindor at Quidditch.
"No, he doesn't," George sighed, and I was pretty sure that Fred muttered "Thank goodness", but when I glared at him accusingly, he simply smiled brightly at me. "He lives a couple of miles out of it."
"Oh right," I sighed, wondering how far I could push it before they'd snap, and deciding to find out. "That's a pity. I'd like to have seen him. He's so nice, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he's bloody marvellous," Fred murmured, shooting daggers at me from his sharp glare. "Let's all give three cheers to how perfect Diggory is, shall we?"
"What's he ever done wrong?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at how angry he was getting. Fred and George shared another look, and I frowned. Their hate seemed genuine and passionate. "Come off it, you two. He's a nice guy, all taunting aside. He's never done a single thing -"
"Of course he hasn't," George snorted, deservedly. "That's the problem, isn't it? He's just perfect. I always thought that award would go to Percy, but he's not all charming and popular, is he? You can't fault Cedric and it's bloody annoying."
I blinked, rather surprised. To my alarm, I understood where he was coming from. There were girls at school who were pretty, polite and popular - and I found myself disliking them for only that. I guessed I'd never really considered boys thought about things in the same way.
"Go on then," Fred said, watching me closely for my reaction. "Tell us how he doesn't deserve to be disliked for that."
"Well," I said, slowly, frowning. "Well, no, he doesn't. But I understand why you feel like that. I'm the same way with some of the girls at school."
"You do?" George asked, gasping theatrically. "And here we were, thinking you were good and gracious and loved everybody!"
"Ho, ho," I murmured, dryly. "Yes, I love everyone at school. I'm so popular it hurts."
"Yeah, I bet you loved that Yvonne Parkinson when you broke her nose," Fred smirked, eyes twinkling, and I couldn't help but smile. Yvonne and her younger sister, Pansy, had been smoking on the school grounds, and the older Slytherin had the cheek to flick her cigarette on me, burning my arm. I'd asked her to apologise, she hadn't, and I lost my temper.
Her nose was corrected eventually, of course.
"That was such a good day," George sighed, staring dreamily into the distance. "Who knew you had it in you?"
"Just because I'm a girl it doesn't mean I can't hit anyone," I sniffed, though felt rather proud. I wasn't usually a violent person at all - my fear of blood somewhat hindered me - but I was in a bad mood anyway and just couldn't help it. The smirking cow deserved it.
We were on the outskirts of the town now, only having to walk over a small river (using a bridge, of course), to reach it. Fred and George bounded over it cheerfully, but I took my time, observing the rushing water as I walked over it. Where I lived, there wasn't really a lot of country side, and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing some.
As I leant over the bridge, having sworn I'd seen a dragonfly, two hands grabbed me by the shoulders. They pushed me forwards quite violently, then dragged me back, and I heard a laughing, male voice say "Saved your life!"
Fuming, I spun around, my cheeks bright red (and my heart beating rather fast), to find myself glaring up into the handsome face of Cedric Diggory. Immediately my anger was lost, and I went even redder. "Cedric! Hello! Fancy seeing you here!"
"I know!" he enthused, looking delighted to be seeing me. "What're you doing here?"
"I'm staying with Fred and George," I grinned, glancing sideways to see them scowling at us both, evidently mutinous. Behind Cedric, I saw his father, smiling cheerily at me. "How are you?"
"I'm perfect, thanks," he beamed, running a hand through his dark hair, his grey eyes on me. "Yourself?"
"I'm great," I nodded, then pouted, "or at least, I was, until you nearly gave me a heart attack by chucking me in the river."
"Claudia," Fred called, his voice full of authority and sternness. "We need to get going. Hurry up and say your goodbyes."
"I'm not five, Fred, don't talk to me like that!" I shouted back, then shrugged apologetically at Cedric. He looked a little bemused by the way Fred had talked to me, but clapped me on the shoulder bracingly. "Sorry, Cedric, I better be off. Those two need babysitting."
"That's alright," he smiled charmingly. "I'll write to you, we'll have to meet up if you're in the area."
"That would be lovely," I laughed again, somewhat nervously. The boy was so charming, that it was rather hard not to feel all dithery in his presence. "Anyway, g'bye!"
"See you!" he waved, and then walked on over the bridge with his father, out of the town. I sighed lightly, and joined the twins at the other side, both of whom were looking half-exasperated, half-annoyed.
"Stop looking like you've both been insulted, and let's get to this shop," I said, brightly, and they consented, somewhat grudgingly. They led the way through the small town, which was fairly busy with shopping Muggles, until we reached the cornershop. The windows were bright, cheery and welcoming.
As we entered, Fred going first, George caught my wrist and muttered, quite seriously and quietly, "Don't go on about Diggory, alright? Fred's really not in the mood."
"What would it have to do with Fred?" I hissed back, stung by his sharp tone. George merely looked at me, his eyes telling me to obey him. Rolling my own eyes, I decided to do as he said, and followed his twin into the shop. It was relatively small, the shelves filled with newspapers and sweets, which Fred and George hurried over to look at.
Having not much interest in candy, I browsed the rest of the shop. It was a typical Muggle newsagent, with not much to hold my attention. I tapped my thigh musically to entertain myself, scanning the headlines of various magazines and newspapers. It was all to do with Muggle politics, or celebrities, and I didn't much care for either. Whistling, I turned around to see what else there was.
And goodness, was there something.
Unattractively, I let out a small noise between a choke and a squeak, my eyes on the assistant behind the counter. He was eighteen or nineteen, with thick black hair that reached just above his shoulders. He was tanned, and quite muscular, with a serene and very beautiful smile upon his handsome face.
He was bloody stunning.
Feeling the heat rising in my cheeks, I tried to act a bit more suave, walking slowly up to the counter and picking up a random bag of crisps. Pushing my dark hair from my eyes, I smiled at the boy, motioning to the crisps. It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn his eyes lit up as he looked at me, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
"That'll be 30p, please," he asked, politely. My hand automatically moved to my pockets, before I remembered I hadn't any Muggle money on me. Wincing, I bit my lip, turning to find that Fred and George were behind me, holding a bag of sweets each. They raised their eyebrows at my cheery smile.
"Couldn't lend me 30p, could you?" I asked, brightly. Fred smiled and nodded, fishing in his pocket and handing me the money. "I'll pay you back once we're at your house."
"Don't worry about it," he shrugged, and I spared him a quick beam before turning back to the boy. He had raised his eyebrows at our interactions, his eyes surveying Fred somewhat coolly. I handed him the money, and he took it, but made no more moves to cash it in the till.
"Fancy coming out for a drink sometime?" he asked, suddenly, his exquisite green eyes on me now. I choked again, this time on surprise, and licked my lips nervously. Yes, I wanted to, but then again, I didn't know the first thing about him. I didn't even know his name.
"I - er -" I glanced back at Fred and George, who had frozen, wearing twin expressions of surprise. When I looked back at the boy, he seemed almost bored, his eyes flicking between me and Fred.
"Oh, so you're dating the ginger? You can do better. Come out with me."
"Excuse me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Actually, no, I'm not dating 'the ginger'. I'm single. Talking to me like that though is hardly going to get me to go out with you, is it?"
He sniffed, evidently insulted at my lack of enthusiasm. "Well, it hardly matters. You sure you want those crisps? I wouldn't have thought you'd want to put any more weight on."
I blinked, feeling both boys making angry movements behind me, but before they could reach the smirking, beautiful boy, I raised my hand and slapped him, sharply, across the cheek. I was trembling, with anger and shame, my thoughts straying to the amount I ate and my figure.
He grabbed my wrist as I withdrew it, pulling me closer to him, face mutinous. "You dare do that again, and I'll -"
I wrenched myself away from him, snatching my money back from his hand, and gazed at him with disgust. Evidently looks weren't everything. Fred and George were flexing their fingers, but I laid my hand on George's shoulder, shaking my head.
"He's not worth it, leave it," I ordered, shortly, alarmed to hear a shake in my voice. Not wanting to be in the room with that bastard one minute longer, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the shop. The air was fresh and the day bright, and I settled myself on a small, wooden bench near the river.
Whilst I wasn't crying, I was definitely close to it, and wrapped my arms around myself, shaking with the fury not yet faded. I couldn't believe how rude and nasty he had turned out to be, and I looked out across the water, cheeks red. Was I really overweight? I'd never thought about it before, I'd always assumed myself average - but was I actually plump, without realising it?
As I'd made up my mind that I was actually horrendously overweight, two people sat either side of me on the bench. I looked up, to see Fred and George, both concerned and angry. I smiled, weakly, and Fred put his arm around me, whilst George patted my leg.
"Feel free to tease me about how many crisps I eat, and how fat I am," I muttered, looking back down at the river. To my surprise, they didn't laugh or tease me, but instead sighed simultaneously. I looked up once more, suspicious.
"That guy was the biggest - the biggest -"
Fred finished off his twin's statement with a very strong expletive that we'd rarely used, looking furious. "He wasn't worth a second of your time. The arrogant sod Are you sure you don't want us to go back there and beat the shit out of him?"
"No." I shook my head, taking a deep breath and smiling. "Look, I'm being dramatic. He isn't worth any of this. He's just a shallow little bastard who wants everything, and if he doesn't get it he lashes out, yeah?"
"Yeah," George agreed, fervently. "Though it should be us saying that to you, Miss Paisley, not the other way round."
"Yeah, well, one of us has to be responsible," I laughed, standing up, feeling the weight of Fred's arm leave my shoulder. I shook myself, ridding myself of my doubts and feeling eternally grateful to have such brilliant friends. Not that I'd ever admit it to them, or I'd be kicked from the group for being such a girl.
Fred stood up, ruffled my hair fondly, and planted a rough kiss on my forehead. I stared at him, extremely puzzled, but he merely smiled at me, turned, and made his way back to the bridge. It was only when George patted me on the shoulder and said we really should be heading home that my confusion snapped and reality rushed back.
IIIIIII
When we reached The Burrow, everything had, thank goodness, returned to normal. To my relief, neither Fred nor George had made one jibe about my weight, and we hadn't spoken about the cruel boy in the newsagent. It was probably best that way - the topic rendered all three of us bad-tempered. The garden was empty now, Mrs Weasley having evidently gone to do the spring cleaning, and we went into the house instead of lingering on the grass.
The kitchen, too, was empty, and George set about making us sandwiches. I went to help him, slicing the bread with the bread knife, but most likely made the slices too small or too big - I wasn't meant for the kitchen, and I knew it. Just as we were laying down the plates on the table, Mrs Weasley strode in to the room, chest heaving, face red and eyes narrowed.
She brandished a piece of paper in one hand and her other hand was holding various, bright coloured things. Beside me, Fred and George both paled and moved closer into me, as thought trying to protect themselves. She threw the lot down on the table, taking deep, steadying, furious breaths. Now they were scattered across the table, I realised that they were the joke products, and blanched myself.
"What - is - the - meaning - of - this?" she hissed, eyes scanning the three of us. Picking up the paper again, she read it, trembling with fury. "Weasley and Weasley. Explain yourselves!"
"Yeah," Fred said, much too loudly and enthusiastically, and I winced. He was a brave soul. "The names appalling, isn't it? It's only temporary, we're going to change it, what do you think we should -"
"Fred!" Mrs Weasley shouted, drawing herself up. "I asked you a question, now answer it!"
"It's mine, Mrs Weasley," I said, desperately. I might not be a very good liar, but I was going to try my hardest. "I bought it over with me, you know - my - er - my joke shop plans? I was thinking those two could help me."
Her expression softened ever so slightly as she looked at me, and she shook her head. "Sorry, Claudia, but it says Weasley and Weasley, not Paisley. I know exactly who's the culprit."
Fred leaned in slightly, to me, and murmured, "Thanks, anyway." Then, he drew himself, too, up to his full height and smiled brightly. "It's just a little project to make some money, Mum. It's nothing bad."
"I've read your notes," she snarled, looking down at the products. "Most of them are dangerous, and you've made order forms! I will not have you harming anybody, do you hear me?"
"We wouldn't sell the dangerous ones!" George insisted, and, for the first time, I noticed that Ron and Ginny had come down the stairs and were watching the argument with open mouths. "We've been testing them on ourselves, we'd never let anyone -"
"So you've been using illegal magic, obviously! You're not even seventeen!"
"Oh, come on, it's not like we've -"
"I'm putting a ban on everything like this. No more joke products, no more order forms, no more of any of this. I'm throwing it all away, do you hear me?"
"Mum!" Fred gasped, outraged. "Mum, you can't! We've spent ages -"
"And just look at your OWL results!" she laughed, hollowly. "No, no, that's it. You're banned from it, and don't think I won't find out if you go behind my back!"
"You can't just chuck it all -"
"Why can't I, George? I forbid you to do any more of this ridiculous joke stuff, and actually focus on your life. Why can't you be more like your brothers? They were never this much trouble!"
"We're not them, though, Mum," Fred muttered, going red. "We're nothing like them, we're different. It's pointless telling us to be like them - we never will be."
"Oh, well aren't you lucky," she growling, throwing the paper back down on the table. "I'm going to destroy it all now, and don't you dare try and hide anything."
"Mum, can't we -"
"No, George, we can't! How could you think I'd approve? I'll have to be having a word with your father, too."
"Mum!" Fred hissed, evidently embarrassed. "Claudia's here, can't we just stop making a scene?"
"I am sorry, dear," she smiled suddenly, and surprisingly, looking to me now. "It's just it's highly dangerous, and I really don't think this should continue. I know you're not to blame."
With that she turned around and stormed back up to their room, leaving us in an extremely awkward silence. I went to get a drink, whilst Fred and George moved together and began to mutter angrily at one another. I downed the glass of water, and then turned, leaning against the counter, folding my arms and watching them.
Finally they looked up again, and I looked at me, grinning. Their smile was infectious, and soon I was smiling back at them. "What's the plan then?"
"We carry on with it, of course," Fred beamed, and I couldn't help but laugh with them - until, of course, Mrs Weasley came back down and silenced us all with one, length glare.
It was brave of them to carry on - but really, I wouldn't have expected anything less of them.
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A/N: Hope you liked it! Please review, it makes me smile, and I always reply!
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