Author's Note & a Random Quote: "A great writer creates a world of his own and his readers are proud to live in it. A lesser writer may entice them in for a moment, but soon he will watch them filing out." AND HEY! You win a gold star if YOU, wonderful reader, can tell me who said this. :D

A Weasley Kind of Romance

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or any of the characters, etc, etc.

Chapter Five

Outdoing Oneself

-Fred-

"AAGH!"

"It's a splinter, Fred." Ginny rolled her eyes, and resumed carelessly plucking bits of wand from my palm.

"Isn't there a spell for removing those?" I asked, barely keeping the strain out of my voice. Ginny exchanged annoyed glances with Hermione, who laid down her quill.

"What did you say happened, again?" She questioned.

"Um." George is an idiot, that's what happened. "I- er, my wand…exploded!" I said. Hermione raised her eyebrows quizzically and opened her mouth to retort, but Ginny exclaimed:

"Fred! Mum told you and George to stop treating magic like it's a game!"

"I know." I replied through gritted teeth as she plucked another wand bit.

There was a moment a silence broken by distant laughter. Ginny suddenly became intensely interested in my palm, just as she-who-shall-not-be-named and my satanic brother waltzed through the common room door.

I leapt up from my seat, wrenching my hand free of Ginny's grip. "YOU!" I roared, even though I wasn't sure who I was talking too. I lunged towards them, flinging my arms wildly until they connected with George's face. Slimy SNOGGING stupid SATANIC monster.

There was a sharp cracking sound, and I raised my arm, aiming to hit again, but George cowered, shielding my blow with his hands.

I stared in horror as trickles of blood ran from his face onto his robes.

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

I barely had time to react before my body was thrown backwards. Something slammed into my backside, and the last thing I saw before I shut my eyes was Juliet's face, a pale mixture of panic and horror.

-Juliet-

Somewhere, a clock chimed twice, and I heard the shuffling and scurrying of students. Pacing outside the hospital wing, I stared at the pattern on the stone floor, thinking.

Well, I really didn't know what to think. But I felt horrible.

I mustn't lie. I knew it was my fault. I knew it my fault Fred got upset and attacked George. I knew why I even "dated" George in the first place. I could tell myself all I wanted to happen was to "mess with their heads a bit." I just…oh, I just wanted to make Fred jealous. Because, maybe, just maybe, a tiny, tiny, mind you, fancied him.

There, I said it. Now, I need to go in there and tell Fred that. Be honest with him, he deserves that, at least.

I need to swallow my pride, muster my Gryffindor courage, and do it. Maybe Madame Pomfrey gave him some medicine and he's completely out of it.

I sucked in some air and pulled open the great wooden doors to the hospital wing.

A horrible stench greeted my nostrils, and I quickly walked down the rows of white bed, laden with sickly students.

"Juliet!" A voice called. I turned and saw poor Neville Longbottom, his face swollen and disfigured so that he resembled a butternut sqaush. (A/N-if anyone gets that reference, I love you.)

"Oh, heavens, Neville. What happened?"

Even through his swollen face, I could see his face contort. "I…um…I got stung…" His voice faltered.

I decided not to ask what exactly he was stung by. A few beds down from Neville, Fred was lying flat on a cot, staring at the ceiling.

Nervously, I brushed my fringe out of my face. (Oh yeah my oh-so great British jargon…in America they're called "bangs". Fringe is much better, if you ask me.)

"Um…helloooo…." I said awkwardly. My courage vanished when Fred turned his head slightly to the right, his expression unchanging.

"Clearwater." He said, his voice almost robotic. Since when had he called me Clearwater? I brushed some hair out of my face again, only to realize my hair was out of the way.

"Um, right, well, you see, um, I just wanted to let you know…" He continued to stare at me, his eyes boring into mine. Uncomfortable, my gaze flickered downward.

"My back's broken." He said. I gasped audibly and looked at him in horror.

He smirked. "I'm kidding."

I resisted the urge to slap him, considering I had really done enough damage.

As if he read my thoughts, he said; "I'm afraid you've already slapped me once, that deed is done."

"What's to say I won't do it again?" I challenged.

"You'd hit a crippled boy?"

"Fine, I'll wait for your back to heal and then I'll shove you off the astronomy tower."

"Not creative enough…. I mean, you've slapped me, and then you nearly broke my back… you're going to have kill me or something, in order to really outdo yourself on the next one."

Almost on instinct, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, just to the right of his mouth.

I gave him a small smile. "How's that?"

He nodded, staring at the ceiling.

A/N: Oh ho ho, what's going to happen next? This writer has no idea, but stayed tuned in the next month or so to find out!