A/N: And here I present to you - answers. Enjoy!

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I was banged into the wall before I had time to react, knocking my already sore head against it. I cursed and tried to push my attacker off, but their grip was steady and painful upon my arms. Finally, I took a moment to register who it was, and instantly stopped struggling.

It was, bizarrely, my Muggle stepmother.

"Catherine?" I asked, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

My stepmother didn't answer, but instead shook me harder. She looked quite harassed and rather scary - her clothes were mismatched and badly ordered, her mousey hair was messily tied back, her face was frenzied. My stepmother had always been cheery and calm, and I had no idea what could have gotten her into such a state.

"What did you do to Polly?" she yelled, her fingers trembling as they held on to me. "What did you do to her?"

"P-Polly?" I asked, squirming. I was rather panicked now, and a little apprehensive - something serious had to have happened to my eldest stepsister, if Catherine was so het up. "What's happened? I haven't done anything. I haven't seen her since the last time I was home."

Before Catherine could scream in response, a larger pair of hands fell on her shoulders and guided her carefully away from me. I rubbed my arms bracingly once her grip had gone from them, as they were rather sore. Once I was sure the circulation to my hands hadn't been cut off (really, it was the second time that day I'd had my arms abused), I looked up to see what on earth was happening now.

My father, it turned out, was in the hospital as well, and was now talking to Catherine in low, comforting tones. Bewildered as to what my family was doing here, let alone a Muggle, I looked around to see if my stepsisters were anywhere near. I couldn't see Polly, but Diane was resting against the wall opposite me and staring at the floor, her eyes red and puffy.

"Diane?" I asked, moving forwards cautiously. She looked up at me, and bit her lip, as though struggling to keep some deep emotions hidden. "Diane, what's the matter? What's going on?"

"Polly's been poisoned," she whispered, her voice hoarse and feeble. "Your dad and the doctor people keep talking about some kind of - of potion. I don't know what it's called. I think it begins with a P."

She was talking quickly, nervously, so I hastily - despite the previous disagreements between us - pulled her into a comforting hug. She seemed grateful, and sagged against me, sniffling heavily. In a tiny voice, she whispered, "I'm scared. They say she's getting better but I'm scared."

"Where is she?" I asked, pulling back to look down into her dark eyes. "If the Healers say she'll be okay, she'll be okay. I promise. Is she in this ward? I want to see her."

"I was just about to go in and see her," came my father's weary voice from behind me. I turned, and he gave me a tired smile. "We've been in to see her many times. You can come along with me, if you want. Whenever she wakes up, she mentions you quite a lot."

My dad set off down the corridor, and I followed, but not before giving Diane's hand a comforting squeeze and throwing my stepmother a concerned smile. Once I'd caught up with my dad, he sighed heavily. "I told you we were staying with the Malfoys' house? Polly visited her boyfriend halfway through our stay there - he lives in the same village as the Weasleys, I believe - and it seems she sneaked some of the Malfoys' potions with her. What she was trying to achieve, I simply don't know."

"What potion was it?" I asked, though I was already beginning to guess.

"Polyjuice," my dad explained, leading me into a small room. "It works on Muggles, but the after effects are exceedingly dangerous. However, she seems in much better health now. I think she's sleeping, but she's been having conversations with us all morning."

"Polyjuice," I repeated, blankly, the pieces falling into place in my mind. There were three beds in the room, only one of which was occupied. Polly was fast asleep, her blonde hair spread across the pillow, her face pale but otherwise it's normal, pretty self. "It doesn't make sense. Why would she --?"

"Take Polyjuice Potion?" my Dad guessed. I nodded, even though I had intended to ask why she'd know how to get the timing exactly right to meet Fred, and to knock me out. Of course, my father had no idea about the way the Polyjuice had been used, and I knew I couldn't relieve his ignorance. There were parts of it even I didn't understand. "I don't know. I can't get a straight answer out of her."

We sat in silence by her bed, looking alternatively at her and at our surroundings. The silence stretched on for about five minutes, until my father asked, suddenly, "I can't believe I've forgotten to ask. Why are you in the hospital? Surely you didn't hear about Polly so soon."

"I didn't," I agreed, and then sheepishly motioned to the lower half of my body. "I broke my leg."

"You what?" my father yelped, evidently startled. "Is it okay now? Have you been seen to? How on earth did that happen?"

"I was being clumsy and I fell down the stairs," I confessed, which was only half a lie. "Mrs Weasley and the twins are in the waiting room. It's fine now, it got fixed in about a second."

My dad rested back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief. "The daughters I've raised. All we need is Diane to start acting crazy as well."

I kept silent, perhaps wisely. My father might be a lot more shocked about his daughters (I was a little miffed he was calling Polly and Diane his daughters, admittedly), if he knew the real reason two of us had ended up in hospital. After all, Polly seemed to have taken Polyjuice Potion to convince Fred I hated him, and I'd fallen down the stairs snogging a boy.

Before he could reprimand me further, the figure in the bed began to stir. We both leant forward, anxiously, to see Polly open her eyes and try to focus on the room. After a minute or so of struggling, she managed to sit up, and swept her blonde curtain of hair from her face with a trembling hand.

"Hello, Harrison," she greeted my father, in a much meeker voice than I was used to hearing from her. Then, her gaze moved to me, and her eyes went wide. She looked, quite simply, terrified, and I couldn't blame her. If she weren't in such a pitiful state, I would probably have punched her there and then. "He-hello, Claudia."

"Hey, Polly," I replied, gently. The violence could come once she was back to her nasty self. Oh, how I was looking forward to it. Of course, I had to establish what exactly had happened, and why, before I took any drastic action. "Dad, d'you think you could give Polly and me a little while alone? We haven't spoken in ages."

"Alright," my dad agreed, looking pleased that I was trying to make an effort with Polly for once. "I'll be back in a minute. I shall tell Catherine and Diane you're up, Polly."

My dad gave us both a last smile, and left, leaving an extremely awkward silence in his wake. Polly stared into her clean white sheets, her cheeks growing steadily more red, whilst I tried to find soft enough words to ask her what had happened. My list of swearwords and threats perhaps wouldn't be too appropriate, given the situation.

Finally, a slight plea to my voice, I asked, "Why, Polly?"

"Why what?" she asked, her voice small and her eyes still on the sheets.

"Why did you do that? Why d'you tell Fred all that stuff and pretend to be me?"

"It was just - just a joke," she explained, sinking lower under her duvet. "I didn't - I didn't mean anything by it. It was just a laugh."

"Just a laugh," I replied, struggling to keep my temper. "You almost cost me my two best friends. I don't see what's so funny about that. Why go to all that trouble, anyway, if it was just some joke?"

"I didn't go to much trouble," she tried to reason, but her voice was even smaller. "It was - look, it's a long story."

"Tell me it, then," I said, simply, and sat back. She looked up, at last, and bit her lip. Our eyes met and we stared at one another for a full minute, before she let out a shaky breath and looked away. With a small nod of her head in defeat, she began to explain in more detail.

"Do you have any idea how pissed off I was when you and those twins left? You'd all made a fool of me, and I told you I'd get you back. I completely forgot about it, though, because you weren't there and everything. We went to stay with the Malfoys, and I was assigned the task of having to be friends with their son, Draco. We got on surprisingly well, actually, even though he kept letting out stupid comments about me not being a witch. I just told him he was a freak and that was that.

"Anyway, around that time, the letter arrived from Fred. I remembered how you'd all --"

"Hang on," I said, cutting across her and furrowing my brow. "What letter from Fred?"

She blinked in surprise, as though I was being purposefully ignorant. "Well, the letter asking your dad for permission, of course."

"Permission for what?" I asked, now muddled beyond confusion. What could Fred need my dad's permission for? It just didn't make sense. "Polly, come on, what did he ask permission for?"

"He asked him if he could ask you to be his girlfriend, of course," Polly sighed, as though I were some kind of fool. "To be honest, I think it was him just showing off and trying to be a gentleman, but your dad was really impressed and said yes."

I stared at her, completely and utterly stunned.

She couldn't be serious.

She really, really couldn't.

Fred Weasley - the prankster, the best friend, the crush - had wanted to go out with me? He had gone to all the trouble of asking my father? He had actually fancied me, all that time? My breath catching in my throat, I began to beam, and then laugh. Fred Weasley asked to go out with me! The kiss - that kiss, that almost fatal kiss, damn it - had been completely genuine.

Fred Weasley wanted to go out with me.

I nearly did a dance.

Polly, who had folded her arms impatiently, some of the life seeming to come back into her, rolled her eyes. "Can I carry on, please?"

For someone so reluctant to speak in the first place, she sure seemed to have a sudden like for telling her story. Still, I was in such a place of inner excitement that I didn't care. I waved my hand to signal she could continue, practically bouncing in my seat. Fred Weasley fancied me!

"Well, I read the letter that he'd sent, and realised that he'd been stupid enough to tell your dad the day he was going to tell you. My boyfriend, Tommy - we used to be penpals, and it developed - lives near the Weasleys' place, so I phoned him up. He said he'd seen you and the twins around, and that you'd actually slapped him -"

"By any chance, does he work in a newsagents?" I asked, suddenly remembering the beautiful boy I'd hit across the face when he'd called me fat. Polly nodded, and I resisted groaning at the coincidence. What a perfect person to make an enemy of! "Sorry, carry on. I just remembered who he was."

"Yes, well. We decided to get revenge on you. He came and picked me up - he can drive, you know - but not before I'd talked to that Draco boy about plans. He came up with the idea of making me look like you, with this horrible tasting potion. I had to get some of the hairs - but luckily I'd accidentally packed your cardigan in my bag when we went to the Malfoys, and there were a couple on that.

"Of course, I didn't tell Tommy about you being a witch, or what the plan was. I didn't want him to think that I'm related to - well, someone like you. Anyway, he dropped me off at the Weasleys' house the day Fred was supposed to admit he liked you. Luckily, the two of you were in the garden and so I hid in the trees near that orchard thing.

"You fell from that broom thing - which was hilarious, I must say - and so I quickly went to the back of that shed. He told you to meet him in an hour, so I took the potion Draco had helped me prepare - his parents had a barrel of it, anyway - and waited. It was really painful, but it worked. I didn't think he'd notice the change of clothes too much, I could explain it away if need be. When you came out I hit -"

She fell silent, suddenly looking down, her cheeks beginning to redden again. I was now feeling a violent mix of emotions - relief at getting answers, shock and excitement at hearing Fred liked me, pity that Polly was so twisted and now poisoned, and anger at what she'd done. With a sigh, I helped her along, "You hit me on the back of the head with a rock, I assume?"

"Well, yeah," she shrugged, uncomfortably. "You know the rest. He said that he'd fallen in love with you, and I told him loads of stuff about you hating his family. Anyway, I was just going to the road that Tommy said he'd pick me up at, when I suddenly started going dizzy. It felt like I was being choked or something. Then, I woke up here. According to your dad, Tommy rushed me to his house, rang our family and your dad 'Apparated' or something. He had to wipe Tommy's memory, I think he said. So yeah, I was taken here, and given some kind of antidote thing."

"You -" I let out a long, weary breath, and fell back in my chair. He'd said he'd fallen in love with me? Jesus Christ. "God, Polly, that's revenge, isn't it? Why on earth did you go through all the trouble of doing all of that? I mean - you could of lost me everything. I've never been that bad to you, have I?"

"You and your dad stole my mother," she said, suddenly, in a rather loud voice. I blinked, startled at this sudden outburst. "Diane, Mum and I were doing fine when our dad left us. Then you two came along, and ruined it all. I'm pretty sure she likes you more than me. I think she always wanted Diane and me to be magic."

"You should see her now," I commented, feeling a little ashamed, despite not having done anything wrong. I could understand where she was coming from - I often felt like she and her sister had stolen my dad, though not quite so passionately. Work seemed to steal him more. "I've never seen her so upset. She really hurt me, too, thinking I'd poisoned you. I thought she was going to slap me or something."

"She really did that?" Polly asked, perking up slightly. Rolling my eyes at her enthusiasm over my pain, I made to reply when a Healer bustled into the room. She took one glance at Polly - who was sitting up, even though she looked exhausted, and turned to me.

"I'm afraid you need to leave Miss Paisley alone to get some rest now, dear," she said to me, a kind expression on her face. I didn't make to move, until I realised that Polly was also called Miss Paisley - her surname before her mother's marriage to my dad had been a plain and simple Smith - and stood up.

I glanced down at my stepsister, wondering what on earth to say. Goodbye seemed to friendly, and that was one thing I wasn't feeling - she'd nearly cost me my two best friends, all because my dad and her mum had fallen in love. "Well. I guess I'll see you soon, then."

"Yeah," she agreed, not looking at me as she laid back down. I headed for the door to the sounds of the Healer rearranging a bunch of flowers on the windowsill. At the doorway, I looked back, to find Polly gazing at me, a strange expression on her face. As though it was causing her great pain to say it, she slowly asked, "Is Fred okay? Are you still friends?"

I couldn't help but smile at her concern. "Yeah, it's all okay now. All it cost me was a broken leg and a bit of blood from the back of my head."

She laughed then, despite herself. With one last smile, I turned away, and left, into the corridor. I made my way back to my father, Catherine and Diane, and they all looked up questioningly as they heard my approach. I shrugged in response to their looks. "She's alright. We've just had a bit of a talk, and the Healer wants her to rest a bit."

"Good," Catherine said, nodding. "Very good. I'm - I'm very sorry, Claudia, for -"

"It's alright," I said, firmly. I could excuse her irrationality easily; it must have been horrific for her, knowing her daughter had been poisoned and not knowing how or why. "I understand. I'm just glad she's okay."

"I think we all are," my dad noted, whilst Diane nodded emphatically.

"Well, I think I should go back to the Weasleys," I said, suddenly remembering them. "They're waiting in the waiting room and probably wondering what's happened to me. I'll see you all soon, alright?"

They all bid me goodbye, and I quickly went off in search of the waiting room. I felt a bit bad for making them all stay there so long, but there were several emotions overriding the guilt. After all, I remembered suddenly, Fred liked me. He'd actually been surprisingly romantic and had written to my father to ask permission. He actually had a crush on me. I had no idea what I was going to say to him when I next had to, but I was terrified, whatever it was going to be.

Finally, I emerged in the waiting room, and cast a glance around all the witches and wizards for some ginger hair. To my surprise, Fred was sat alone, his twin and his mother nowhere in sight. I didn't go towards him immediately, instead lingering in the doorway, far too nervous to walk forward. What could I say to him? Would I tell him I knew he liked me, or wait to see if he admitted it?

He looked rather bored, slumped in his seat, and so was gazing around the room. His eyes glanced at me, then away, and then he did a double take. Grinning widely, he stood up, and I had no choice. I made my way over to him.

I stopped before him, and our eyes met. The smile faded from his lips, and he looked away, breath suddenly hitching. My knees felt girlishly weak, and I hated myself for being so silly. This was Fred Weasley. I knew him, I'd known him for years. There was no reason to feel awkward around him.

"It's all fixed," I explained, though that was obvious from the fact I was standing up. "It only took a second."

"Why were you so long?" he asked, seizing the conversation gratefully. "Mum had to go to start dinner, George persuaded her I could wait alone. She didn't want to - she thinks you're her responsibility - but she went eventually."

"I bumped into Polly," I explained, decided I owed him some of the explanation. After all, it had effected him as much as it had me. "She's been poisoned."

"She has?" he asked, aghast. "How? Who did it?"

"Her, in a sense," I shrugged, and then fixed him with a meaningful look. "It was Polyjuice Potion."

"Ah," he said, softly, nodding slowly. "What exactly happened?"

I launched into the explanation, leaving out the part about the letter, and his face paled more and more, with each word I spoke. When I was finished, I smiled sheepishly, wondering what would happen now. Would we forget the kiss, and just move on? I didn't want to - but I was hardly going to bring the awkward subject up. He'd probably been put off kissing me for life, after all the trouble liking me had caused.

"I don't understand," he said, after mulling the story over for a minute or so. "I mean - how did she know when I was going to be on my own?" Then, he flushed red, looking mortified. "Did she - err - did she happen to tell you what I said to her, when she thought I was you?"

"Well." I took a deep breath, turning crimson and biting my lip extremely hard. "She said that you'd written to my father saying you'd - you'd admit something on a certain day, and that's how she knew. And, um, she said - well - yeah, she told me what you said."

"Ah," he said, again, and scratched the back of his neck. "Um. Well."

"Yeah," I nodded, my mouth having gone dry. "Err. Well, I. Um."

"What did you think to - err - what I said, then?" he asked, wincing.

"Oh, well -" I stopped, hating every second of the prickly conversation. "Well, I thought it was quite - quite sweet. And, um, if you'd have told me - instead of, you know, Polly - that you - err - had fallen in love with me, um -"

"Yes?" he prompted, as I fell silent.

"I think I would have kissed you," I said, in a rush of nerves, and then turned away. I didn't think I'd ever been so embarrassed in my entire lives. Fred let out a small, choked sound at my confession and asked, in a terribly squeaky voice, "You would have kissed me?"

"Um. Well. Yeah."

"I see," he said, voice now faint. I turned back to him, taking deep steadying breaths. He looked at me, an odd expression on his face. "Well then, it's - it's a pity I didn't get to tell you, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I gave a shaky little laugh and then, shocked at my own bravery, added, "I'd probably still kiss me if you admitted it again, to me."

"Ah," he said, for the third time, and shuffled his feet against the ground. "Um. That would be the sensible thing to do then, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," I agreed, and suddenly realised that we'd moved a little closer to each other. The heat on my face was scolding, now, and it looked like he was going through the same, unpleasant sensation. "Thing - thing is, you've never been very sensible, have you?"

"Not before now, no," he smiled, though the smile quickly disappeared, replaced by a look of fear. "Erm. So. Admitting time it is."

"Indeed," I said, and then grimaced. "This is - well. Just. Okay."

"So, Claudia," he said, in a falsely cheery voice, "I've - um - well, this summer I've realised something - err - important. And that important thing is, well, that - err - I guess that I've -"

"Yes?" I asked, in a whisper.

"I guess that I've fallen in love with you," he said, voice hollow and expressionless. "Yeah, that's - that's - um. That's the jist of it, anyway. Now - now for your part of the deal."

My heartbeat was deafening. At his words, I'd felt a jolt in my stomach, and I just couldn't help it. I leant forward, on the tips of my toes, and pressed my lips against his. He let out a strange noise, and awkwardly placed his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I smiled into the kiss, almost crying with relief. It was actually happening, and nothing - nothing - could stop it.

Pulling away, I didn't lose my smile. Instead I said, in a shaky voice, "Try to tell the right girl next time, won't you?"

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A/N: Awkward, eh? Please review! I appreciate every comment I get.

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