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A/N: Hello! Sorry I've been away a long time, I've been on holiday and have had one too many essays to write. Enjoy!
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The 18th of August bought with it two young men I hadn't seen in years - Bill and Charlie Weasley. Bill was eight years older than me, now twenty four. He was extremely handsome, with long red hair and a friendly smile. He greeted me politely, as we'd only met twice when I was eleven and twelve. Charlie, who was now twenty two, looked rather like the twins and treated me like an old friend - we had spent a couple of years at Hogwarts together, although he had, of course, been several years above me.
However happy everybody was to see the two of them, however, it did lead to some problems, for which I felt mostly to blame. The Burrow was already packed with eight people, but with ten it was rather outdoing itself. I offered to go home, anxious not to much too much strain on Mrs Weasley when she had to cook and clean, but my offer was shouted down immediately.
Mr Weasley, it transpired, had managed to get a number of tickets for the Quidditch World Cup from a friend, Ludo Bagman - eleven tickets, in fact, and all in the Top Box. I was rather dreading it, despite the excited talk surrounding me, as we'd be at a ridiculous height. I'd said I'd sacrifice my ticket, but quickly shut up at the glares I received from Fred and George.
In fact, we ended up having two spare tickets, as Mrs Weasley didn't want to go. Ron quickly asked if he could have them for his friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and everyone consented. It looked set to be fun - in everyone's eyes but mine, of course.
Despite this, the summer had improved dramatically since my discussion with George. There had been no more mysterious correspondence between Fred and Polly, and no mention of it from anybody. Fred had returned to his bright and mischievous self, and I had no further bouts of sickness. It was almost like old times, except for the mounting crush I had on him.
All in all, though, I'd decided not to bother with boys. Even if I fancied Fred, and definitely felt something for Cedric, why should I act on it? I was perfectly happy being friends with everybody, and always had been, and so I made a note to banish the thoughts from my mind. It wasn't particularly easy, especially as Fred seemed to be in an excellent mood constantly, and he looked and sounded so lovely when he laughed.
Bad thoughts, Claudia, bad thoughts.
Still, all that aside, the summer seemed to be coming to a nice end. I was dreading lessons, and hardly looking forward to the World Cup, but it was the best ending I could have hoped for. We had ten or so days left, yes, but it didn't seem like much.
In my naivety, I believed that nothing much could happen in such a short space of time.
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I stepped out of The Burrow on the 19th, whistling cheerily to myself. All of the Weasley children (except for Percy, who was at work, and Ginny, who was with her mother) were outside, having fun and laughing. I was in an oddly good mood, and went to join them, almost - but not quite - carefree.
I was rather less inclined to feel happy, however, when I was suddenly covered head to toe in icy cold water.
Spluttering indignantly, I staggered backwards, wondering who on earth had been stupid enough to do such a thing. I decided, as I pushed my sopping wet hair from my eyes and looked up, that whoever it was would suffer. Slowly, and painfully. Until they died.
As I looked up, scowling and red-faced, my eyes met those of a certain Fred Weasley, and I decided that perhaps death was a tad harsh and maybe torture would suffice. Then again, he was smiling rather attractively as he walked up to me, so maybe I wouldn't punish him at all.
Shaking my head to partly rid myself of stupid thoughts, and partly dry my hair off, I put my hands on hips and glared at him as he came to a halt before me. He was rather wet himself, but still looked happy, and he ran a hand through his red hair, evidently wondering what to say to try and calm me down. "Er - care to join us?"
"Join you?" I asked, anger fading as I frowned at him. "What do you mean?"
"We're having a water fight," he winked, looking my dripping form up and down. "You deserve to join in, I reckon, to get revenge on the vile cur who threw a water balloon at you."
I eyed him, suspiciously. His eyes were dancing with laughter and he looked far too happy, even for him. Slowly, I replied, "It was evidently you who threw the balloon."
He clutched at his chest, dramatically, but when I gave no sign of sympathy, he shrugged his shoulders, grinning. "Fair enough. It was me. But come and play, won't you? I'm losing dramatically - you can tell by how drenched I am - and I'd love a little back up."
"Oh, alright then," I sighed, though inside felt a pleasant little skip. He grinned even wider and took my hand, leading me further into the garden, towards his siblings. I went rather pink at he handholding - bad, Claudia, bad - but this went unnoticed as the first waves of water crashed over us.
Any reservations I may have had were soon swept away. It was immense fun, however cold I felt when I got caught by a balloon. Fred and George had prepared loads of them me, Ron and the two of them to use. Bill and Charlie, having left Hogwarts, were simply using their wands to squirt water onto the lot of us, though they'd been banned from deflecting our balloons because it was so unfair.
The morning filtered by quickly owing to how much fun we were having. We'd settled into teams; Fred, George and I versus Ron, Bill and Charlie. The other team was winning by far, but it wasn't from our lack of trying. Fred and George were amazing shots, and I was more of a hindrance than anything else, but the twins' jibes bounced off of me. Everything was returning to normal, and I was thrilled.
Ginny came out into the garden at midday, and instantly got soaked from a rather wild throw that had come from Ron. She screamed and spent the next five minutes chasing her older brother round the garden, whilst everyone else tried not to collapse from laughter. Eventually, she tired of running, told us all that lunch was ready, and stormed back into the house.
We all followed, smiling and talking, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed George mutter something to Fred and they both cast a knowing look at me. I glared at them, suspiciously, but they merely beamed and pulled me into the house for food.
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Half-way through lunch, Mrs Weasley gave a tired, weary little sigh and looked around at us all. "We'll have to sort out bedroom arrangements. With all these extra people, we're going to have to have a lot of shared rooms."
As Charlie and Bill had arrived late the night before, they had slept on the sofa's, but had woken complaining of aching muscles and stiff necks. With only a few rooms in the house, I was rather interested to know how exactly we'd all fit in them.
"Harry and Hermione are arriving in two days, don't forget," Ron said, looking rather excited at the prospect of having friends round. "We'll have to put them somewhere, too."
Mrs Weasley pursed her lips, evidently deep in thought. Finally, she sighed again. "Fred, George and Harry will have to share your room with you, Ron. It'll be a tight squeeze, but I'm sure you'll all manage. Bill and Charlie can have the twins' room. Hermione and Ginny - it's ever such a small bedroom, isn't it? - will have to share Ginny's room."
"Hang on," Fred said, rather loudly. "That leaves Percy and Claudia. They're not going to be sharing a room, are they?"
Alarmed at the thought, I spluttered a little on the lemonade I'd been taking a sip on. George thumped me on the back, causing me to choke even more, and once I was done almost dying, I glowered at him, before turning my attention back to Mrs Weasley. How awkward would it be to share with Percy? He'd go on and on about his boring job, and then there was the trouble with the kiss earlier in the summer. How thrilling an experience that would be.
"Oh no, of course not," Mrs Weasley smiled, after ensuring I hadn't choked to death. "I rather thought Percy needed his room to himself, what with all the work he's taken on recently. Claudia will have to have Arthur and I's room. We can sleep in the living room."
"No," I said, immediately. "Really, I'll sleep on the settee. I don't care."
"We don't want you to have an uncomfortable sleep, dear," Mrs Weasley replied, anxiously. "Arthur and I don't mind -"
"Seriously, I won't let you give up your bedroom just for me," I said, firmly. "I don't mind the front room. I'm sure I'll be comfortable."
"If you're sure, dear," Mrs Weasley smiled, sounding rather relieved. "Well, that's that sorted. I've got a few jobs that need to be done before tomorrow, if you all don't mind?"
We all said we didn't, and she began to hand them out, summoning a rather long list from her bedroom. As she spoke to Bill and Charlie, I drummed my fingers against the table, thinking about the World Cup. Cedric had mentioned, on that eventful night, that he was going to be going and that we'd probably be getting the same Portkey there.
If that was true, I was dreading the stupid Quidditch match even more. We hadn't corresponded since the drunken night in which we'd kissed, and I felt that a couple of days just wasn't long enough by far to prepare myself. Things were bound to be horribly awkward, and it was sure to wake up the feelings I had for him. Then, on top of it all, I was terrified of how the overprotective Fred and George would act towards him, knowing he'd technically gotten me drunk and kissed me.
The whole thing was a bloody mess, and I just couldn't be arsed to deal with it.
"Claudia, George, would you mind feeding the chickens for me?" Mrs Weasley asked, breaking me from my self-pitying thoughts. I shared a look with George, and we nodded together, getting up from the table and heading outside.
The day was still bright and sunny, and as we headed for the chicken coop, George began to whistle. Even though he was one of the cheeriest people to be found in the wizarding world, I couldn't help but wonder what was making him so damn happy today. Whenever I'd seen him or his twin, they'd been grinning enthusiastically and laughing, or sharing significant looks.
I had a horrible, yet familiar, feeling that a prank was going to be set in motion at any moment - and it would be me it was aimed at.
"Tell me now then," I ordered, as we unlatched the gate to the chickens. "What's going to happen to me?"
"Sorry?" he asked, looking bemused at my sudden question.
I swiped him on the arm, impatiently. "What prank have you and Fred planned to execute today?"
He frowned, reaching for some of the chicken food and scattering it across the yard for the free-range hens. "What d'you mean?"
"Well, you've both been annoyingly excitable today and you keep looking at me," I explained, wondering how long he'd play dumb. From experience, I knew that it could take a long time to break his put-on innocence, not that I wasn't determined to try. "I'm not stupid. I know you're plotting something."
"We're not, in that sense," George shrugged, watching the hens fight over the food with a mildly interested expression. When he evidently sensed me shooting daggers at him, he fixed me with a stern look. "I'm being honest. There's no prank planned today."
He made to walk back to the house, but I hurried after him, trying to comprehend what the emphasis on 'prank' could have meant. "Hang on, d'you mean you are actually planning something?"
"Maybe," he said, breezily.
"What is it?"
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," he grinned, an excited glint back in his eyes. At my frustrated growl, he ruffled my hair with a freckled hand and practically skipped back into the house, my glare burning into him all the way.
Before I could follow after him, however, Fred came out of the house. I paused when I saw him, feeling my heart skip a beat. Pushing down the stupid, warm feelings inside, I grinned at him and he walked over to me, hands shoved in his pockets.
"You don't mind sleeping on the couch, do you? You can have my bed," he offered, unusually concerned. I resisted rolling my eyes - the twins were confusing me today, there was no doubt about it.
"Nah, I don't mind, but thanks for the offer."
"If you're sure," he shrugged, and then squinted up at the sun. "D'you want to do some flying? We've not been out together for ages, and I promised you I'd get you confident on a broom."
The thought of being so close to Fred made me both petrified and excited, but I made my face simply cheerful. I knew that if I could be touching him like that, and resist doing something stupid and admitting how much I liked him, then everything would be okay. "Sure. Sounds good."
"Awesome," he grinned, and led the way to the broom closet. I noted, as I followed him, that his red hair glistened nicely in the August weather, and had the bizarre desire to run my fingers through it. Blushing - and hoping it could be blamed on the warm weather - I looked away. Those sorts of thoughts were dangerous.
In a moment, Fred had retrieved his broomstick and climbed expertly upon it. I gazed at him for a moment, before giving myself a bracing shake and perching behind him. I tried to keep as much distance between us as possible, for fear of doing something ridiculous.
He looked over his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow. He smirked at my stiff attitude, and blew the hair from his eyes. "Something wrong?"
"Nope," I lied, trying to look innocent. "How come?"
"Well, you're not holding on," he explained, leaning over and tapping my head as though I was stupid. "Unless you want to fall off, I thought you'd be doing so."
"Er." I hesitated, but finally gave in and slipped my arms around his waist, scooting forwards a little. He relaxed, threw me a grin, and kicked off from the ground. I felt the familiar, unpleasant lurching sensation in my stomach, and winced. It had suddenly struck me why I had always hated flying - it wasn't fun; it was downright horrible and dangerous.
Fred seemed to have decided that he had to make up for our lack of flying recently, and lifted the broomstick to around ten feet from the ground. I grimaced as he did so, and closed my eyes. If I didn't look at the ground, I'd be fine. He began to hum, cheerily, to himself, as I buried my face into his back to avoid looking down.
"I can't believe we're going to the World Cup soon," he said, suddenly, in an awed voice. I groaned, slightly, already bored with the subject. Sensing my irritation, he sighed and muttered, "Well, I think you'll enjoy yourself. Stop being so stubborn."
"Oh, I'm sure that'll -" I began to reply scathingly, when I remembered my manner. The Weasleys were inviting me with them when there was no need to, and anybody else would be thrilled. I was being downright ungrateful, and suddenly felt ashamed. "I guess you're right. I'll probably have a nice time."
"What?" Fred asked, obviously startled that I had given in so easily. "Since when do you agree with me without pushing me over first?"
"It's too high to push you over," I explained, smugly, and I could somehow feel him grinning. We continued to glide over the garden, and eventually the worry gnawing at me in the pit of my stomach faded. It was madness, but I was somehow getting used to the feeling of flying at this height. I'd never admit it to anybody, of course. "How are the joke products doing?"
"Perfect, thanks," Fred replied, enthusiastically. "Well, I mean, you've seen most of it happen. But we did some the other day whilst you were helping Mum do the shopping, and it's going just as we planned. I just hope she doesn't find out."
"If you're more careful this time, I'm sure she won't," I reasoned, although I had a horrible feeling she would. She seemed to know exactly whenever any of her children had done anything wrong. It was rather scary, come to think of it. "Still planning to sell them at Hogwarts?"
"'Course," he snorted, as though shocked he even needed to be asked. "I keep telling you, George and I are being serious about going into the business. It'll be great, you'll see. You'll see something even more amazing in a couple of days, though. Just you wait."
"Amazing? It what sense?" I asked, hoping the mystery excitement could finally be explained. "Is it a prank? If so, it better not involve me."
"Yes, it's a prank, but no, it doesn't involve you," he laughed, sending me a wink over his shoulder. I felt my cheeks glow warm, and winced again. I was being so bloody obvious, it was surprising that Fred didn't just point and laugh at me there and then for being such a stupid girl. I was acting like I was five, for goodness sake.
With a sigh, I tried to stir myself from my silly thoughts. I glanced around, looking at the trees across the orchard. We were just above the level of the branches, and the apples were small and green, beginning to ripen into a juicy red colour. Staring at them, I frowned. Something was wrong. If we were above the level of the trees, which were bloody huge, then that meant…
A sick, dreadful feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, I hesitantly looked down at the ground.
We were about fifty feet in the air.
I screamed and tightened my grip around Fred's waist, dramatically. He instinctively jumped at the loud sound and momentarily lost control of the broomstick - sending it, and us, soaring to the ground.
I screamed again as we zoomed to the floor, swearing explicitly in my head and holding on to Fred for dear life. At the last moment, he gained control of himself and made us swerve dangerously above the grass, steadying us. Despite being a little high from the ground, I threw myself from the broom, fell heavily, and clambered to my feet.
"You arse!" I shouted, the moment I was safely back in the grass. "You absolute arse! What the hell do you think you were doing?"
He landed on the ground, a guilty expression meeting my red-cheeked glare. "I didn't realise we were going high up, honestly. I just forgot -"
"Oh, well, good for you," I snapped, breathing heavily, my chest heaving. "I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life! I hope you're proud of yourself!"
"No, look, I'm -"
"No, you look! I can't believe you claim to have just forgot," I ranted, crossing my arms to try and stem the heavy, clumsy breathing. "Haven't I made it completely clear, a thousand times, that I hate heights? So what do you go and do? Almost kill me by dropping me fifty feet!"
"I didn't mean -"
"We could have died! I can't - I can't - God, you're so -"
"Claudia!" he said, suddenly, and gripped my shoulders. I fell silent mid-insult, as he gazed into my eyes. Instantly, all the anger seemed to fade from my body, leaving me with a faint embarrassment at my overreaction. "Look, calm down, alright? I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention."
Looking away, sheepishly, I pulled myself from him and muttered, "Okay. It's okay."
"Good," he grinned, sweeping a hand through his red hair. "Er, I'd say it'd be safer to lock the broom away."
"I agree," I nodded, still not meeting my eye. I felt rather cruel for having yelled at him, and my heart was still beating rather fast - if from fright or the crush, I couldn't quite tell. "I'll take Ron's, shall I? He's left it out in the grass."
"Oh, thanks," he smiled, as I picked it up. "You can use it, if you want. We could have a race, and -"
"Let's just put them away," I said, weakly, in no mood for joking. I wanted to go up to bed and curl up, forgetting how dramatic I'd just been. It was amazing, if rather unnerving, how Fred could provoke such violent emotions in me - and drain them away with a look. We made our way in silence to the broom shed, which we reached in a minute or so.
Fred entered and set about putting his broom neatly with the others. I squeezed in at his side, chest brushing against his arm, to put Ron's with the rest of them. He stilled at the contact, and then, dropping his broom, grabbed my arm sharply. I blinked at the contact, dropping Ron's broom in surprise.
"Fred?" I asked, uncertainly. There was a strange, almost dark expression on his face, and for some absurd reason I felt a flicker of fear inside. "Are you okay? Got a splinter somewhere particularly painful?"
"Can you meet me in the orchard in an hour? The far side, where no one really goes."
His voice was hoarse, and trembling. I'd never heard him speak like that before, and before I knew what I was doing, I'd said, "Yes, of course."
"I'll see you then," he said, and without a backward glance he hastily left the shed and practically sprinted back to the house, leaving me blinking in his wake; nervous, blushing and more than a little confused.
IIIIIII
An hour later, I nervously went out into the garden, scenario after scenario running through my mind. He didn't want me to stay anymore. He was dating Polly. He hated me. He was going to tell me he'd never liked me, and felt sorry for me. Biting my lip, I slowly walked across the back yard, towards the orchard.
I'd spent the hour with Ginny in her room, helping her to set up a bed for Hermione. She seemed to realise something was wrong, because she kept asking me if I was okay, but I just shrugged and said the hot weather was getting to me. She'd accepted the answer well enough, but still seemed suspicious.
Why on earth had Fred suddenly changed, and wanted me to meet him? Why couldn't he just say what he wanted to say in the shed? Why the hell was I so nervous?
I reached the edge of the garden, next to the shed, and took a tentative peek into the orchard. I could see Fred at the other side, his back to me, seemingly staring into the sky. Fighting down the bizarre urge to be, sick, I opened my mouth to shout greetings, and lifted a foot to start to go meet him.
That was when there was a sharp pain in the back of my head, I felt myself crumpling to the ground, and everything went black.
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A/N: Don't hate me for the cliffhanger! Please review, though. xD
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