A/N: I realized something interesting a few days ago. I was watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and noticed the name "Julie Christie"—the British actress who played Madame Rosmerta in the film (among many other things) within the credits. It was totally coincidental that I'd use her name (almost) in my story only to realize she was actually in one of the Harry Potter movies. Just thought that was cool!

There's a lot more Fred in this chapter than there has been so far in this story. I've had a few people ask if Juliet and Fred are going to get together soon. Let's just say you should stick around for the next couple of chapters…

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the Harry Potter series, belong to JK Rowling.

- CHAPTER FIVE -

Bloodshed and Betting

Juliet Christie

"Are you ready?"

Fred looked at me expectantly as he threw his cloak over his shoulders.

He, George and I had developed a quick plan to invade Umbridge's office. Because Fred had detention, it was obvious that he was going to be given access to the room. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that Umbridge was going to leave him alone unattended. That didn't give him any time to snoop around and
find out what she was up to.

And that's where I came in.

Fred was going to sneak me into the room and leave me there. I was then to wait for Umbridge to leave—hiding unseen, behind a bookcase or under her desk—and as soon as she was gone, I'd be free to shuffle through her belongings.

Simple enough, right?

"What if she finds me?" I asked. "She works for the Ministry. They know I'm an Animagus."

"They don't hold conferences every time a new Animagus gets on the list," Fred assured me. "It's likely she doesn't know."

Of course, neither of us was completely certain about that fact. For all we knew, Fudge had sent Umbridge in with a warning about me. I wouldn't have put it past the sod, seen as how paranoid he continued to be about Dumbledore. Perhaps he thought I may do some spying on his behalf. I bet Umbridge was keeping a close eye on Professor McGonagall, then.

In any case, what we were doing was extremely risky. If we were found out, we'd be in a lot of trouble. I had to admit the plan was dangerous, but that wasn't about to stop me from going through with it. If we could find out vital information about Umbridge it would be well worth the risk.

"So, you ready?" Fred repeated, straightening himself up.

"I'm ready," I confirmed, double-checking to ensure I had my wand secured in my pocket.

"Then let's get a move on, shall we?" he asked, a wide grin forming on his freckled face.

I rolled my eyes at him with a smirk and sank down into the cat-me.

I stared up at him for half a second before jumping up, clawing to his jeans and climbing up his side.

"Ouch! Julie, be careful!" he said as my claws dug into his flesh. I couldn't really help it. I had never really noticed what a tree Fred was. It wasn't easy to climb up him.

"You're going to have to try to stay still," he told me. "And stay under my arm. It'll be suspicious if I've got a hunchback."

I tucked myself under his left arm, letting my claws sink into his sweater. I scratched at him a little bit, just for fun, and he threatened to squish me.

"Watch it, Christie," he warned, readjusting his cloak so I wasn't obvious underneath. "George, look alright?"

I couldn't see anything beneath the dark fabric, but I could hear George's approval from elsewhere in the room.

"Perfect," he said.

"Alright, hang tight, Juliet," Fred said. "Off we go."

The short trip down to Umbridge's office was uncomfortable. I clung to Fred's clothing securely, but I came close to falling with every stride he took. I knew he was getting tired from holding his arm up and over me, but if he moved he threatened to give us both away. It was lucky the long, black cloaks we
wore around Hogwarts offered little in terms of shape. It wasn't difficult to keep me hidden from view under there.

"Here we go," he said quietly, and I knew we were near the office. It became quite obvious that we had reached our destination when she began to speak.

"Right on time, Mr. Weasley," she said in her squeaky voice. I don't know if it was because I was in the form of a cat, but I suddenly realized she sounded exactly how I would expect a mouse to speak.

Fred didn't respond, but I sensed he was fighting hard not to lash out at her. Just being near her made my blood boil, and I was certain he held similar feelings toward her.

"If you'll come in," she said, "you're going to be writing lines for me this evening."

I could sense Fred fighting back the urge to scoff. I was rather impressed that he didn't make a smart-assed comment.

Writing lines? Real original, Umbridge.

For Fred to keep his mouth shut meant he must have been taking Professor McGonagall's warning fairly seriously.

"I didn't bring a quill," Fred said to her.

"That's quite alright," she said. "I've got one I want you to use. Please, take a seat."

Sitting down was a little awkward, as I had to manoeuvre myself back down his side. Fred sat down, and I felt his hand guiding me, probably making sure I stayed out of Umbridge's sight. I couldn't see where she was in the room.

I heard her chair scrape the floor when she moved to sit down at her desk, and I knew she wouldn't be able to see me. I slid out from underneath Fred's cloak and dropped to the floor quietly. I needed to find a place to hide.

As soon as I made it out of the darkness of Fred's clothing I nearly retched at the sight of the office. The walls were adorned with disgusting pink lace and doily cloths. On the widest wall were a set of ornamental plates, each decorated with a particularly fluffy and foul-looking kitten. I was suddenly
terrified for my well being. If Umbridge were to discover me, perhaps she'd wrap me up in a frilly bow and keep me on display.

Cringe.

I heard Umbridge slide parchment across her desk to Fred.

"Now, I want you to write: I must obey authority," she said in her falsely sweet voice.

Fred cleared his throat loudly to cover up the laugh he was stifling. Obeying authority was the last thing he was going to do. If this woman thought otherwise, then she obviously didn't know who she was dealing with.

"I haven't got any ink," he said.

"You won't be needing ink," she said pleasantly. I lifted my head up at Fred in curiosity. I couldn't see anything but his shoulders. His face was hidden by the awkward angle I was viewing him from.

I heard the scratch of the quill as Fred began writing, and seconds later heard his breathing intake sharply in pain.

My eyes widened in surprise and confusion. Fred's body had tensed up, and he had stopped writing.

"What is this?" Fred asked angrily, his voice tense.

"This is your punishment, Mr. Weasley," Umbridge answered pleasantly.

The room was silent for several long moments before I heard the quill scratching on parchment once again.

My head was spinning in confusion. What was going on?

I clawed gently at the bottom of Fred's jeans, hoping he'd somehow be able to tell me what was happening. Very slowly and carefully, Fred lifted his left arm off of the desk, and lowered it down to his side. His hand dangled above my head, and he turned it, palm-up, to give me a view of the back of his hand.

I very nearly hissed, but I contained myself…only just.

As I listened to the scratching of the quill, Fred's message I must obey authority appeared etched into the skin on the back of his hand in his own untidy handwriting. Almost as soon as it appeared, it healed over again leaving a raw, red mark. I watched, horrified as the message repeated itself. It returned again and again, digging into his skin so the words were glowing red with his own blood before the skin sealed back up.

Fred took his hand away once he was certain I had understood what was going on.

I decided immediately I was no longer going through with the plan. There was no way I was going to stick around in the vile woman's office. As soon as she was finished torturing Fred I was going straight to Professor McGonagall so I could receive permission to murder toad-woman. She was not going to get away with it.

It took everything I had in me not to change back right there in the office and start smashing ornamental plates over her head. The woman was sick. Sick and twisted, and pure evil!

My temper was raging as I sat on the cold stone floor, trying desperately to contain myself.

I was very aware of how lucky it was that it was Fred in detention and not me. I didn't trust that my temper would have been controllable had the situation been reversed. Considering how easily set off I had grown over the past weeks, I was positive I would have done something rash in Fred's position.

Astoundingly, he was keeping himself quite cool.

I was certain, however, that his anger would show itself properly as soon as we got out of the room. Perhaps he'd join me in destroying kitten plates over Umbridge's fat head.

Unfortunately, Fred's detention dragged on for what must have been at least two hours. I couldn't hear anything coming from him, aside from the continuous scratch of quill on parchment, but I knew he was in pain. I sensed it more than anything, because I knew he wasn't willing to show weakness in front of
Umbridge.

She must have finally decided he had had enough, because she stopped him and surveyed his hand.

"That will do for this evening," she said with a miniscule giggle that made me want to claw her eyes out. "I expect you will think twice before disobeying my orders again."

I hurried back up Fred's leg and gripped under his arm once more. I was surprised when he didn't try to nudge me off of his side. He must have known I wasn't going to stay behind after that.

Umbridge showed him out of the room, and I pictured the disgusting smile that she was surely wearing on her face. I worked hard not to dig my claws into Fred's flesh. It was difficult to achieve when I was imagining strangling her.

I knew as soon as we were away from her office, because Fred's demeanour changed entirely. His pace quickened, and his muscles tightened in rage. I wanted to talk to him, but I didn't risk being seen. Instead, I stayed put until we reached the common room and I leapt out from under his arm. I took off immediately toward the girls' staircase, not wanting to be seen by anyone in the common room, and stormed down the stairs moments later on two feet instead of four.

"Who the bloody hell does she think she is?" I demanded, grabbing hold of Fred's hand forcefully. He tried to yank himself free, but I wouldn't allow it.

"Why didn't you stay?" George asked under his breath, approaching the two of us with a look of surprise on his face.

"That foul, loathsome woman!" I growled. "Look what she did!"

I thrust Fred's hand into George's chest, and Fred snatched it back.

"What…?" George asked, eyeing Fred's hand in alarm. "What happened?"

Fred's hand was rough and bleeding. It was near impossible to tell what was spelled out in his flesh—the skin was far too reddened and angry looking. The sight of it had me further fuelled with rage. Katie and Lee had come over to see what was going on. They looked on in bafflement.

"Lines," Fred said with a clenched jaw, "written in my own blood."

George's eyes widened in horror. Katie and Lee's expressions were similar.

"That bloody toad!" George exclaimed. "Does she have any idea who she's dealing with?"

"I'll kill her," I said angrily, feeling more enraged than I would have thought possible. It seemed these days revenge was constantly on my mind. I gritted my teeth together.

"We'll kill her," George corrected. He was sporting an uncharacteristically ugly look on his face similar I'm sure to the one I was wearing.

"No," Katie said, being the voice of reason. "Remember what McGonagall said. We have to behave ourselves. Keep our heads down."

"We can't just let her get away with this!" I objected.

"What are we going to do?" Fred asked, shoving his hand in his pocket to keep our eyes off of the bloody wound. "Kate's right. Backlash won't get us anywhere."

George and I fixed Fred with a disbelieving stare. Neither of us said anything. He was right, obviously, but it didn't make sense coming from him. Fred was never one to back down from a fight.

"I think the best course of action is for us to lay low," Katie suggested.

George and I exchanged disapproving looks. It seemed he was the only other person who seriously wanted to take action.

"For now," Lee amended, seeing our unhappy expressions.

I huffed. I was fuming.

"For now," I agreed.

"Good," Katie said, "Because I certainly don't want to get whatever punishment she gave to you."

"That can't possibly be allowed," I said with an angry shake of my head.

"Of course it isn't," George said. "If it were, Filch would have been using it on us for years."

The heated discussion came to a sudden halt when Angelina showed up. She cleared her throat and spoke to us confidently, although I could tell from her expression that she was a bit wary of addressing us all at once.

"I just wanted to let you know—seen as you're all together—that Quidditch tryouts for a new Keeper will be taking place on Friday," she said.

She looked round at all of us, but seemed to avoid meeting George's gaze. It took me a moment to realize why, and when I had, I scolded myself.

I hadn't spoken to George yet about Alicia quitting the team. My mind had been too preoccupied.

Dammit, Juliet.

"Do we know who the hopefuls are?" Lee asked.

"A few people have spoken to me about it," she replied. "But we won't know who's serious until Friday when they show up."

None of us responded, then, and things began to grow awkward. I was too focussed on figuring out what I was going to say to George after this to worry about the group dynamic.

"Anyway," Angelina said, clearing her throat again. "I just wanted to let you know. You're all expected to be there. Then, once we've got our Keeper chosen, regular practices can start up."

It was only then that I realized that Lee and George were both eyeing me curiously. I suppose they had suspected Angelina and I were still on rocky terms. We weren't exactly friends, but our feud had definitely died out. It was a good thing, because I wasn't sure I could handle sharing a dormitory with two Alicias at the moment. Things were awkward enough as it was… and I still needed to speak to George about the matter.

"We'll be there," I assured Angelina, my mind distracted with thoughts about approaching George.

"Great," she answered. "I'm off to bed, I think. I'll see you upstairs."

I nodded in response.

"I'll come," Katie said, and Lee and George exchanged confused looks as she followed Angelina up the stairs to the dormitory.

"What's going on?" Lee questioned.

"Angelina offered up a truce," I said with a shrug.

"Did you know?" Lee asked, fixing Fred with an accusing stare.

"No," he answered.

Fred's expression was just as perplexed as the other two, but I had a feeling he was confused about another matter entirely. I suspected he was confused about Angelina's appearance on the Quidditch team when we already had three Chasers. I had forgotten to tell either of the twins about Alicia leaving the team. I was starting to drop the ball.

I eyed Fred, and tried to be subtle as I signalled him. I tilted my head slightly toward George, and widened my eyes in hopes that he would understand.

He must have got the hint, because he pulled his hand back out from his pocket and examined it.

"Think I'll go tend to this," he said casually. "See you lot tomorrow."

"Night, Fred," I said.

He gave my shoulder a tight squeeze (with the hand that wasn't currently caked in drying blood). I took it to mean good luck, and wondered vaguely how on earth I had come to be the person who had to talk to George. It wasn't a job I had readily signed up for.

I cleared my throat once Fred's footsteps had died away on the staircase.

"Lee, you heading for bed too?" I asked, staring at him pointedly.

Lee glanced between George and me, and picked up on the hint immediately.

"Yes," he said, giving me a very obvious wink. "Yes I am."

I rolled my eyes as he slapped George on the back and gave me a nod before taking the stairs two at a time up to his room.

"Real subtle, Jules," George commented.

I grinned sheepishly at him.

He led the way over to the corner of the room where he sat himself down in one of the squashy armchairs there.

"I guess you were the lucky one elected to talk to me about Alicia," he said as I took a seat down across from him.

I let out a nervous laugh.

"Looks that way," I said.

"Okay, let's hear it then," he said, looking at me with polite expectancy. It was a little surprising.

I cleared my throat, feeling slightly anxious. I figured George must be upset, but he seemed very keen on hiding it. That was a bit unsettling. It made breaching the topic more difficult.

"She's quit the Quidditch team," I told him. I figured it was better to get it out in the open rather than prolonging the inevitable.

I eyed him warily, waiting for some sign of a reaction. He was terribly calm. It was unnerving.

"So I've heard," George said, remaining incredibly unaffected.

"You did?" I questioned, surprised.

"Katie let it slip," he said. "And even if she hadn't, I would have been able to figure it out after our chat with Angelina. It doesn't take a genius."

I nodded slowly. "Right. Well, did Katie tell you why?"

"She didn't have to," George said. "I can guess."

I felt extremely awkward looking at George then. I had always known he was the more reasonable of the two twins. He tended to think things through better. He was less rash. But George was also much harder to read. He wasn't one to let his emotions shine through. Fred was a lot easier to understand—his emotions lay much closer to the surface. With George, you had to work a little.

"George," I sighed. Although I hated having to be the one to get him to open up about Alicia, I knew it had to be done. Merlin knows Fred was never good at that sort of thing, and I was certain Lee wasn't to be trusted to help. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked.

"George," I stressed, "you're not fooling me."

He looked at me, and seemed to weigh his options. He sighed.

"She broke up with me," he said simply. "Over the summer, she sent me an owl."

"She did?" I questioned, confused. I had been under the impression that no one had had any contact with Alicia over the summer. Fred had assured me that he and George had heard nothing from her at all.

"I didn't say anything because there was enough going on without my problems getting in the mix," he said, answering my unasked question.

"Fred didn't know?" I asked.

He shook his head in response and I let out a breathy disbelieving sigh.

"George, you could have told us," I said.

"No, I couldn't have," he disagreed. "You've had enough to deal with, and Fred…"

His eyes met mine and I knew the rest of his sentence without him having to finish. Fred was too worried about me to have time to think about anything else.

"Well…you know," he finished with a shrug. "Anyway, Alicia knew that I was on Harry's side when it came to the whole You-Know-Who thing. And as soon as her father got the chance, he convinced her that I'm some betrayer of the Ministry."

I laughed humourlessly.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I told him. "She had a similar conversation with Katie and me."

"I heard," George answered dully. "In fact, I think all of Gryffindor heard that one."

I grimaced. Overhearing our argument certainly wouldn't have been fun for George.

"Yeah," he agreed, catching my frown. "You three were really at each other's throats there. Lee almost went to intervene. Although, I think he was hoping to catch some sort of cat-fight in action."

He smirked at his attempt at a joke. It didn't loosen me up much.

"Yeah, it didn't end too well," I told him. "She's got it in her head that we're all involved in some kind of conspiracy against the Ministry."

George grunted in response.

"She thinks the only reason I believe Harry is because it makes it easier to accept Cedric's death," I said, scowling at the memory of Alicia's words. "She says I have to blame someone, and I'd rather it be You-Know-Who than Dumbledore or Harry."

"I guess to her it makes sense," George said. "She spent all summer listening to her father's take on things…at some point she ended up believing him."

I didn't answer. I wondered if it would have made a difference to me if both of my parents had been on the side of Cornelius Fudge. Would they have been able to persuade me into thinking Harry was a liar?

No. No, that wasn't possible.

I had known Harry since his first year at school. I trusted him to tell the truth. I wouldn't doubt my friends as easily as Alicia seemed to.

George had grown silent. I stared at him for a moment as he looked off into space.

"So…are you okay?" I asked again.

He turned back to me. A smirk automatically appeared on his face.

"'Course I am," he assured me.

I wasn't convinced.

"I was chosen to talk to you for a reason," I said. "If I have to go back to the others and say that I failed, then next time you're going to have to deal with Fred or Lee."

George genuinely smiled.

"I guess I'd better not push my luck," he said cheekily.

"No, you shouldn't," I agreed.

George ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward in his seat. I leaned forward, too, and waited.

"I liked her," he said simply. "But I'm okay."

He leaned back in the squashy armchair and looked at me with an expression of finality.

"That's it?" I asked.

He shrugged. "There's not much more to say," he answered. "It's over. I'm fine."

I opened my mouth to interrupt that I didn't believe him, but he cut me off.

"I promise," he said strongly. His blue eyes were full of sincerity. "I've had plenty of time to deal with it. Sure it sucks, but I'm fine."

I eyed him a little longer, debating with myself whether to push the matter any further. It seemed I wasn't going to get anywhere with the topic any more.

"Okay," I said reluctantly. The whole conversation somehow seemed anti-climactic. "Well, if you need to talk…"

"Of course," he said, waving it off.

I was a little confused that George didn't seem to need my help. It seemed we had all deluded ourselves into thinking he needed to talk it out more than he actually did. He seemed genuinely fine. I was sure the whole situation with Alicia was upsetting him, but he seemed okay. I suppose the fact that he had spent all summer dealing with it had helped. The wound was no longer fresh, at least.

"Well…I guess I'm done, then," I said, making a face.

George laughed.

"Thanks for checking up on me," he said. "You really are much better at it than Fred."

I chuckled. I couldn't deny that.

"Fred's useless at talking," I said in good humour. "If there's anything I know, it's that."

"Yeah, well," George said with a shrug. "None of us Weasleys are very good with that sort of thing—none of us male Weasleys, that is."

At his comment, George made a nod toward the opposite corner of the room where Ron and Hermione sat bickering. I laughed again, letting my eyes settle upon the familiar sight. Those two were always at it.

"You two are good together, though," he said, catching me off-guard.

"Me and Ron?" I asked, my head spinning momentarily.

George crinkled up his face in disgust.

"Not Ron," he said, still grimacing, "Fred."

"Oh," I said. That made more sense. I frowned. "Right… Fred."

"Don't you think?" he pressed.

I eyed him suspiciously. Somehow George always managed to shift things so the heat was on me. Although, I suppose I owed it to him to answer his questions after all he had done for me since Cedric's death.

I sighed.

"I thought we were talking about you," I pointed out.

"We did," he told me. "And now it's your turn. You're not the only one who gets sent on missions, Jules."

I did a double take.

"What?" I asked.

"Ginny and Katie," he answered casually. "Somehow they thought you'd be more receptive to me than one of them."

I scowled.

"Ridiculous, I know," he said. "But I'm going to give it a try. So, don't you think the two of you are good together?"

I let out a frustrated groan. Go figure. I try to do something constructive in helping George with his problems, and it turns out my friends were out to get me all along.

I knew there wasn't any point in avoiding the conversation. I owed it to George to give him some answers. And I suppose if my friends were worried about me, I could afford to let them know what was going on.

"Sometimes I do," I answered, then shook my head. "But it's still too soon, you know?"

"Too soon!" George scoffed. "Juliet, I seem to recall badgering you about Fred two full years ago. And yet… here we are, still at it. How in Godric's name is that too soon?"

I rolled my eyes.

"That's not what I meant, George."

"I know," he conceded, "but you get my point? I hate to see you put off the inevitable like this. Especially when—" he rolled his up to the ceiling, "—Merlin knows why—but Fred will make you happy."

I sighed again.

"I don't know that he will," I said. "Not now, anyway."

"You don't believe that," George accused. "You know he will."

"Okay, fine," I said, "but I can't do the same for him. Not yet."

"What are you talking about?" he asked incredulously. "Do you realize how long Fred has wanted you? He's been driving the rest of us bloody insane."

"George, I can't be with Fred just like that. It's more complicated than—"

"Complicated," George said sarcastically. "You're all about focusing in on the complications, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, feeling a little defensive. It sounded like George was trying to badger me, not help me.

"You're making this out to be more difficult than it actually is," he told me.

"How would you know?" I asked, scowling at him. "I was in love with Cedric, and he was murdered by You-Know-Who. That's not something I can just set aside!"

"I understand," George said calmly. "And if you really aren't ready for anything else then that's fine. But I don't think that's what's going on here."

"Oh really?" I challenged.

"I think you're putting off this thing with Fred not because you need time to come to terms with Cedric's death, but because you are fixatingon it."

Ouch. That hit home. George never ceased to amaze me with his intuitive skills.

"You think I'm purposely focusing on Cedric's murder?" I asked, feigning offence. I hadn't realized I had been so obvious.

Cedric's death had been almost all I could think about since it occurred. And after my talk with Harry…I spent half of my time inventing scenarios where I could avenge his death. I hoped no one was aware of exactly what was going through my head. Fred and George in particular would be positively furious with me.

"I haven't figured out why, exactly," George mused. "But, yeah."

"I guess I've just had a hard time," I said reluctantly. It was true, but it definitely wasn't the whole truth. In all honesty, if I ever got a shot at Peter Pettigrew…

"Wouldn't it make everything easier if you let things get back to normal?" George asked.

"Normal?" I questioned incredulously. "And what is normal, may I ask?"

"Maybe normal isn't the word I'm looking for," George said. "But the best way for you to get past Cedric's death is to move on from it."

"It's not fair to Fred if he gets stuck with an emotionally distraught girlfriend, though, is it?" I pointed out.

"Why are you focusing on all of the reasons why you shouldn't be with Fred?" he questioned. "What you should be doing is looking at why you shouldbe with him."

George's expression was one of pure seriousness. It was a little scary. I knew he and Fred had been worrying about me for ages, but I hadn't realized the extent of it. It seemed he had grown accustomed to scrutinizing my actions. I knew he was just trying to look out for me…and for Fred, of course.

Maybe he was right, though. I knew no matter what happened, nothing was going to keep me from harbouring the desire to avenge Cedric Diggory. I wasn't sure if I would ever get the chance to act on it, but I was certain if it ever did arise that I couldn't trust myself to remain calm. But even so, perhaps George was right.

Maybe by moving forward with Fred my life could regain some of the stability it had lost when Cedric died. George had described our pending relationship as 'inevitable'. I couldn't deny that there seemed to be some truth to that. It was an undeniable fact that I had feelings for him. And part of me really wanted to be with him.

So maybe…

"What do you think, Jules?" George asked. He must have known he was getting through to me.

"When did you get so good at the whole talking thing?" I asked. "I thought you said none of the male Weasleys could handle it?"

"Practice," he said with a smirk. "Trust me, it doesn't come naturally."

I was quiet, pondering my options. George stared at me expectantly.

"You know I'm right," he said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, George," I gave in. "I'll give it some thought."

"Good," he said firmly, sounding pleased with himself. "Because Lee and I have got a wager going, and if you two don't get together by the end of this month, I owe him six Galleons!"

"George!"

"What?" he said innocently.

"So you came to talk to me for your own benefit, did you?" I asked, angrily.

"Of course not! Everything I said was true! I think you should be together—even if I have no idea what you see in him," he joked. "We just thought we'd make it interesting, is all."

I scowled at him.

"You know, I have half a mind to wait until the month's up just for that," I threatened.

"If you do it before the end of the month, I may be willing to split my winnings with you," he said casually.

"Perhaps I should see what kind of offer Lee would be willing to give before I make a decision," I said.

"Would it sway you to my side if I told you Fred is rooting for me to win, too?" he asked cheekily.

My eyes widened.

"Fred knows about your stupid bet?" I questioned, eyeing him sceptically.

"'Course he does. He shares a dormitory with us, doesn't he?"

"And you told him?" I asked incredulously.

"He overheard," George said with a shrug. "What's the big deal? Everyone's well aware of what's going on between the two of you. It's not like it's any surprise to Fred that we're all waiting for you to make a move."

I stared at him in shock, my mouth open just a tad in horror.

"I can't believe you're betting on me—and Fred knows!" I said.

"Don't worry, he stood up for you," George assured me. "Said you needed time and we should be respectful—" he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, "—it was quite a boring speech, actually. It surprised me. I didn't think Fred was capable of that kind of moral judgment."

I glared at him.

"You are disgusting," I said.

"Well it's lucky it's not me you're interested in," George responded cheekily.

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "Lucky."

"Well," George said, getting up from his seat. He stretched his arms up to the ceiling and yawned. "I think I'll go give Fred the good news. I'm sure he's aching to hear how this conversation went."

"George, don't you dare tell him anything," I warned. The last thing I needed was the pressure between Fred and me to heighten any more than it already was.

"I'm just going to mention in passing that his luck may be about to change," George said with a cheeky grin. "I'll let you deal with all the juicy details later."

"George Weasley," I threatened, getting up from my seat as he began to edge his way over to the staircase to the boys' dormitory.

He grinned widely at me as I took another step toward him. He responded by taking a step backward toward the staircase.

"Geeeoorge," I warned.

In a flash George was speeding up the stairs, with me tailing a second behind him. He made it halfway up before I caught his ankles, grabbing hold of him firmly.

"Gaaahh!" George screeched.

I groaned in pain as he came tumbling down on top of me, and the two of us rolled ungracefully down the stairs.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" George yelled, attempting to untangle his limbs from mine. "I'm going to have bruises!"

I lunged at him, pinning his arms to the ground.

"Don't you dare say a word to Fred," I told him firmly.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked, staring up at me with a threateningly cocky expression.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"If you want your six Galleons, you won't breathe a word," I said.

George grinned widely.

"Deal."