A Weasley Kind Of Romance

Chapter Three: Arms

-Fred-

"She slapped you?" George asked incredulously, eyes wide.

"Yep. Hard, too." I added. We were sitting on a rock under a tree next to the Black lake. It was freezing, and the water looked half-frozen, but I needed a private place to talk to George…about her. Little prat.

George sighed dramatically, letting out a puff of cold air. He crossed his arms and rubbed them, trying to get warm. "Fred, mate, don't curse me for saying this, alright?"

I shoved my hands deeper into my pocket, fiddling with the frayed holes. "A'right."

We sat there for a few seconds, during one of our rare moments of silent soberness. I looked out onto to the lake, and was slightly stunned as a group of giggling girls waltzed by. Not become they were pretty, which they were, but because she was with them. She spotted me, and shot me a look of pure hatred that could of melted ice.

"What in the name of Merlin are they doing out here? It's freezing."

George didn't have time to answer before I saw what they were doing. Viktor Krum was about to go for a dip. Right.

"Mental, mental, they're completely mental, the lot of them. Krum, too." I grumbled, averting my gaze as they giggled louder.

"I reckon you fancy her."

"Pardon me, George, my ears must have misheard you, WHAT did you say?"

"You fancy her."

"Are you- what…why…." I sputtered, completely flabbergasted. I was momentarily stunned while I registered what he was saying.

"That's mental." was all I could think of to say, trying not to act like I cared too much.

George coughed into his arm, it sounded suspiciously like "Juliet."

Sure, she was attractive and smart and…stuff, but that didn't mean I fancied her! I mean, merlin, she was an insufferable little twit, yelling her head off at me in the hallway, and then slapping me! The nerve of her…I didn't fancy Juliet Clearwater.

And anyway, what would people think if we started going out or something? They would think we were mental! Well, people already think of me as mental, but this would soil my reputation for eternity. I couldn't just tease a girl for years and then start saying I fancied her! Thatwas ridiculous! I was Fred Weasley, prankster, ladies man, making sure everyone gets a good laugh. I wasn't the romantic who pines after some girl who slapped me and absolutely loathes me, despite having ever said it to my face. Merlin.

"Fred?" George said hesitantly. He had clearly expected me to sock him.

I put my hand inside my robe and curled my fingers around my wand. George had made me promise not to curse him, but he never mentioned anything about hexing him into oblivion.

George noticed my hand and took off running down the hill towards the lake. I laughed and whipped my wand out, chasing after him.

"Excuse me, pardon me!" George tore through the giggling gaggle of girls, who wrinkled their noses and stepped out of his way, clearly irritated their indiscreet-spy-on-Krum meeting was interrupted.

He was trapped. Behind him, was the icy cold lake, I stood in front of him, wand at the ready.

"AGUAMENTI!" I roared.

Unfortunately, just as the stream of water gushed from my wand, a girl threw himself in front of George, at the exact moment the gush of water was suppose to hit George.

I froze and watched in horror and fascination as the girl was blasted backwards by the stream of water. It was almost as powerful as a muggle fire hose.

She landed with a splash in the lake.

George muttered some choice words- he had avoided the blow by simply stepping out of the way.

I stood there, stiff as a wand. All I could say was "Oh."

-Juliet-

I felt my body being blasted backwards, and then blackness. Then a piercing coldness as the icy water seeped through me.

"Ahh!" I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Water filled my mouth. I flailed my arms and struggled to kick up- something yanked my ankle and pulled me down. I kicked wildly; the thing just clung on tighter and began dragging my body downwards, deeper into the bitter cold water.

It was a grindylow- I could feel its sharp teeth prick my ankle; its slimy long fingers gripping my skin. I furiously thrashed myself, desperately escaping its hold on me.

The grindylow moved upwards, his fingers leaving their grip on my ankle to seize my neck. I choked on water and lack of oxygen as the creature started to throttle my neck, his mucky face inches from mine, beady eyes alive with the intent of murder.

My eyes closed as I struggled for release.

Numbly, I feel a pair of hands grasp my sides and pull me towards the surface. I take gulps of cold air, feeling it whoosh into my lung as a feeling of relief washes over me. I hear voices, at least three of them.

"Is she alright?"

"Crikey, Fred, you're an idiot."

"Angelina, I wasn't the one who decided to shield the git at the last moment."

"She's breathing! She must be freezing!"

"Thank goodness, Mum would murder me if she found out I killed someone."

"Let's take her to Madame Pomfrey."

"Wait until she can walk, George, I'm not carrying her there."

"You're an insensitive toad."

"She was heavy enough in the water; I'm not lugging her up to the castle."

"She's barely one-hundred pounds soaking wet, Fred."

"Says the twit, George, who can't lift his own bleeding trunk."

"Shut up!"

"You're the one who blasted her into the water, Fred, and nearly killed her."

"Yeah, but I saved her arse, now didn't I?"

"Hardly, look at the strangle marks on her throat."

"Dear Angelina, I know a handy charm to make those disappear."

"Fred, I doubt those spells you'd used to make your hickeys disappear will work on strangle marks-"

"George, give her a tap to wake her up!"

"NO! That's-"

I felt a finger thunk against my head. Irritated, I opened my eyes and squinted up in the bright winter sunlight.

"Oh, thank Merlin, you're alive." That was Fred, of course.

I staggered to my feet, freezing, neck burning, sopping wet. I must have look liked a deranged drowned rat with rabies bites. I didn't care.

"Angelina, where's my wand?" I growled at her. She backed away from me. "Juliet, you really ought to lay down-"

"Where's my wand?" I hissed. (A/N- completely stole this line from DH, one of my favorite scenes.)

The two boys backed up, looking mildly frightened. I stumbled towards Fred and got inches from his face, close enough to kiss- or spit. I could see every freckle, and there was even a faint red blush creeping up his neck.

"I hate you, Fred Weasley." I wondered if I truly did.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggled profusely at the sight of me when I walked into the common room. I had dried myself off with a charm, but I couldn't get rid of the marks on my neck; they looked like love bites.

Lavender eyed my neck and traded secret-girl glances with Parvati. "We, ah, heard, you were rescued by a certain Fred Weasley's arms?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I was utterly confused for a few moments, before Parvati stepped in.

"Fred saved your life from drowning in the dark depths of the lake by sweeping you into his arms?" She made a scooping motion with her arms and fluttered her eyelashes.

I realized a rumour must have circulated that Fred Weasley had romantically rescued me from the lake, and scooped me into his arms like one of those stupid muggle-movies where the hot lifeguard rescues a dumb muggle girl. And apparently the fact that I'd been strangled by a Grindylow had been left out of the story. I imagined Lavender believed Fred had even performed CPR on me, (which is ridiculous considering we have spells for that sort of thing) which, according to Lavender's mind, led to passionate snogging, resulting in the marks on my neck.

I resisted the urge to strangle the both of them, where there would be no Fred Weasley to rescue her from my grindylow-like grip. In fact, there wouldn't be a Fred Weasley to rescue their gossiping bums, because I was about to take care of Fred myself.