A Weasley Kind of Romance

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Series, it belongs to Ms. Rowling.

A/N: Sorry for the long update wait…. school started….(well, er, it may have started four months ago, but you know, it's a busy time. (Not really.) Anywhoo, thank you for your reviews and interest in this story! And thanks to OOT Obsessed for plot help!

Chapter Four

Head-over-Broomstick

-Juliet-

I tucked my feet under myself in the armchair, and stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace. The common room was deserted, but I lingered behind, awaiting the arrival of a certain red-haired devil.

Always one for brutal honesty, I questioned myself as to why I didn't just brush off the incident. Act like it had never happened. Act like Fred Weasley didn't even exist.

But, for some inexplicable reason, I knew that would never be possible. And so I sat.

I heard the shifting movement of feet sliding on stone, and I straightened, ready to attack. It was a Weasley standing before me, but it wasn't the one I was expecting.

The expression of disappointment on my face must have been clear, or she knew my plan, because she laughed lightly. "Sorry…Fred's already gone on to bed."

I smiled tentatively. Ginny Weasley and I were peers, more than mere acquaintances but less than friends.

"Oh." was all I said. Discomfort was tangible in the air, but Ginny seemed perfectly at ease, plopping herself down in an armchair close to mine.

"So, I'd like to hear the story on you and Fred." She raised her eyebrows at me, and I realized she wasn't angry at me for positively loathing her brother. In fact, I realized, she just may enjoy it.

"Oh, you know, we're just mortal enemies. He's just, um, never been the kindest wizard…sometimes his pranks tend to…well, you know what I mean."

She laughed again. "Yes, I can assure you, I know exactly what you mean. So, I heard on the rumour mill that he blasted you into the freezing lake today, is that true?"

I nodded. Her eyes widened. "He is so dead."

"Well", I conceded, "He did fish me out, though. Before the Grindylow attacked me."

"Grindylow? Wow….if my Mum found out, he would be in Azkaban right now."

I thought for a moment, tuning out Ginny's shock and threats. "Wait…I think it was George that saved me."

Ginny shook her head, red hair swishing. "No, no, it was Fred, I heard it mumbling about freezing his arse off in the lake today. I asked him what he was going on about….but…oh!"

"What?" I asked.

"What if we pretended it WAS George that rescued you?" Her eyes were glowing and alive with the reflection of the fire flickering in them.

I tilted my head, momentarily confused. "Erm, sorry, but what exactly would that accomplish?"

Ginny looked at me like I was a half-witted troll. "This is a perfect opportunity, Juliet! Dumbledore couldn't even open the door of opportunity any wider!"

I was still perplexed. "Okay, look," She said, slightly exasperatedly, "Dear chivalrous "George" has heroically saved you from the depths of a dark lake. And you, Juliet, are hereby head-over-broomstick* in love with him!

I waited for her to continue. "So, you need to completely fawn over him. Either snog him or stalk him or preferably both. See, they'll be ridiculously confused at your sudden change of heart, even though it makes sense."

"OH, I see what you are saying. Mess with their heads a bit, eh?"

The reflection of the flames was still burning in her eyes, framed by her fiery red hair. Ginny grinned wickedly. "Exactly."

-Fred-

"George, do you reckon this is one of those girl things where they say they hate you, but they really mean to say they love you?" I was lying on the dormity bed, with one leg crossed over the other.

I heard George sign, rather dramatically. "Fred, considering, you just nearly killed her, I'd reckon not, mate."

"Right."

There was a long pause, until I heard George's sheets rustle, and the sound of his feet hitting the floor. Within a few seconds, he had ripped back the curtains on my bed and was staring at me with a triumphant smirk on his face as if he had just conjured a brilliant scheme to defeat Snape.

"What, George?" I asked irritably. I wasn't in the mood for any possible pranks.

"Did I hear you right? Did you just finally admit you have feelings for the girl?" He raised his eyebrows.

"What? No, no, I-I didn't." I stammered.

"Sod off, George, I'm sleeping." I grumbled, rolling onto my side and pretending he wasn't there and that I hadn't just accidentally destroyed my dignity by admitting I fancied Juliet Clearwater.

He didn't let off that easy, though. He raised his eyebrows even higher, if that were possible. "Ho-ho-ho. Dearest Fred. You've finally confessed. You, my lad, are head-over-broomstick in love with Miss Clearwater." He sang.

"You sing worse than that Celestina Warbeck mum likes…." I grumbled, grabbing my wand and heading out of the dormitory.

"Wait, come on mate, I won't squeal your secret. But you need advice- which I have noticed you desperately need- you ought to ask her to that Mule thing coming up." He nodded his heard at me as if he was letting me in on some great secret.

"The Yule Ball?" I asked, sliding down the banister and sitting in an armchair. Even you-know-who was not going to get me to ask Juliet Clearwater to that ball.

"Yes, yes, that's the one! Witches and ladies alike love that kind of stuff! It's like their world cup! To them, it's one big competition- who's the prettiest, who has the best dress, the best date, who can dance the best-" George illustrated his point by waltzing wildly around the common room, and I watched as his left elbow swung and clanged into a nearby Knight with a loud clatter.

"HEY! YOU! WATCH IT!"

"Sorry, Sebastian, sorry." George held up his clumsy hands in mock surrender.

"That's Sir Sebastian to you." The Knight grunted and, with a final clang, lowered his visor and froze.

George made a face at the Knight and turned towards me. Suddenly, we heard a high-pitched giggle. I turned around, and there, sitting in an armchair with her legs crossed in an awfully short nightgown, was her. Merlin's beard, did that Grindylow leave those horrid marks on her neck?

"Ah, Juliet, fancy seeing you here!" George waltzed over to her and held out his hand for a dance. I gave George my best "you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me" look, but he ignored me.

"I was just showing Fred here the proper way to waltz." He slowly snaked his hand around her waist. "Poor lad, he was born with two left feet."

She stopped giggling and glared at me. "Imagine that."

I returned her glare with equal passion. George laughed nervously and spun her away from my glare.

"Perhaps you could be of assistance, Juliet? Why don't you and Fred here have a go on the floor, and-"

"NO." We both said.

"Alright, alright, or I could just dance with you-"

Juliet smiled, and I swear she pressed herself a bit closer to him. "I'd like that much better, George."

George visibly gulped. Juliet leaned in close, until her lips were inches from his ear. "I wanted to say thank you for saving me today-"

George's eyes widened. "Oh, you must have been mistaken, I'm afraid that wasn't me who-"

She silenced him by pressing her lips to his. I heard a strange sound, and I looked down to find my wand snapped in two.

*A bit of background knowledge. "Head-over-Broomstick" is a Wizarding term first used in the early twentieth-century by Krinkle Kissington in his romantic classic, "Gone with the Muggles". Kissington's character is riding a broom one spring afternoon, when he sees the girl he is destined to fall in love with. Stunned by her supreme beauty, he promptly falls off his broom headfirst. It is the muggle equivalent of "head-over-heels," and generally is used to figuratively describe the feeling of "falling" in love.

This translation was provided by The Author, also known as the insane interpreter for the completely fabricated Wizarding terms she has created for the realm of the story because she has nothing better to do with her time, aside from mind-numbing mounds of homework. OH WAIT! That's right, it's Thanksgiving Break! Woo-hoo!