Disclaimer: Not Mine. Of Course it's not. Don't be silly.
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My English Lit Essay Can Wait. This was really, really REALLY messing with my head.
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Katie .
"Fred?" My lips were moving but there didn't seem to be any noise coming from my mouth. "Fred?" Hissing the syllable seemed easier than actual speech.
"What?"
We were standing in the hallway of what Fred had told me was Shell Cottage, where Bill and Fleur were living after their honeymoon... which was, no doubt, some convoluted Order Mission.
"Where're the others? And Jesus, Weasley, Get your hands out of my knickers!" I slammed my hand into the wall, the light clicked on and I nearly had a heart attack as Fred's face loomed in front of me, holding my bag up in front of me.
"Sorry, Katie. Didn't know you had such a... thing about your laundry!"
"Oh, shut it." He smirked at me and I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes, but still staring at him with a small smile playing around my lips. "I need to change, or I'm going to look conspicuous." I paused and he looked at me for a longer moment, running a hand through his hair. "What?"
"You look like sex on legs in that dress." Then, as though he'd realised his verbal diarrhoea was actually spoken aloud, he slammed a hand across his mouth and looked at me, a blush rising in his face. "What I meant was... I mean, you'll be really... like, conspicuous and draw attention to us and... I... I'm gonna shut up now." He stepped back, as though the air around me was burning white hot, and I tried to offer a smile, though my lips were tightly stuck to my teeth right now, and it wasn't nice.
"Thanks, I think?" I raised an eyebrow and saw him relax slightly, "Listen, where's the loo? I've got to change, obviously, but I don't think that... well," I stopped and looked at him, wondering if I really wanted to go this far. Yeah, I think I do. I tugged the skirt of the dress up a little way and looked at him, blatantly displaying the top of my thigh,"I don't think these panties are appropriate."
I think I broke his brain.
There was a long pause where Fred's face went from pink to maroon, and I think he stopped breathing for about a minute.
Shit, no, I really have killed him!
"Fred..." I snapped my fingers in front of his face and he choked himself back into life. "What the fuck was that?"
"Er..." He stopped, looking anywhere but at me, "The bathroom's upstairs, but use one of the bedrooms... and keep that dress with you. It could come in handy." The last breath was one which was laden with both promise and perversion, and part of me wanted to ask... the other part just raised an eyebrow and walked away.
Guess which part was me.
Yep. Icebitch.
"Oh!" I span on my heel as I got to the stairs and realised he had been following me with his eyes from the second I had moved. "Fred... where're we going, by the way?" He looked at me as though I was insane, and it was obvious.
"Is it not... obvious?"
"No." Duh. "Really, the fact I needed to ask doesn't, you know, indicate that I don't know where I'm going?" He looked at me.
"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."
Yeah, because I knew exactly where that was.
"Which would be... where, exactly?"
"It's the H.Q. of the Order, Katie, don't you read? We have things to set up, things to pick up and people to avoid. Common Sense, Katie, my darling." Back to his suave and irritating self, he sprinted across the hallway and swung an arm around my shoulders, directing me toward a small and airy bedroom, his eyes lingering on the window as we crossed the threshold.
With a wave of his wand, the curtain material crashed together in the centre of the panes and I was left standing in the darkness, looking at him with a dark, confused expression.
"You think I'm leaving you alone? Katie, we have to stick together – If they got to the stupid reception... this place is barely safe... if they get... if they get the secret keeper..." He stopped, "You could be in serious trouble, Katie." He paused, "I'll turn around, if that helps?"
Not really. I was already hyperaware of his presence, adrenaline still coursing through me from earlier, and the combination of the two meant that every button or zip I tried to hook or pull went everywhichway but the way I wanted it to go. Scowling, I pulled on my jeans and looked over at the shirt I had pulled out of my bag.
Fucking Buttons. It was red and blue checked, and buttoned down at the front, and I was wearing a camisole underneath it, but I knew... it was cold out. I wouldn't be able to go without a jacket.
"Fred?" I looked at him; he was sitting on the bed staring into the middle distance, his expression confused and his eyes tired. "Can you help me?"
"That was my shirt." He said as he looked me up and down, appraised me and stared back into my eyes. "You nicked that off me about three years ago." There was the ghost of a smile crossing his features and it made me smile too, until he crossed the room and nearly pressed his chest against mine, reaching down to button the fourth-from-top button, his fingers brushing against my chest, then the button below it... until he was done, and his hands were shaking next to my belt.
"Thanks." I whispered, looking up into his bright eyes and he raised an eyebrow at me again, "Listen... If you think I'm going to hold you guys back... I-I..." He stopped me by pushing his hand against my chest lightly and shaking his head.
"Not gonna... You're not gonna stop us." He smiled, "Trust me." I shut my eyes and rested my head against his chest, waiting for the steady beat of his heart to calm me down. it was erratic and terrified under my ears and I wondered if that was because we were running... from everything, or whether it was because we were in such close proximity to each other, our hearts pounding in time as we stood together, arms wrapped around each other, waiting.
Two whistles exploded through my brain about two minutes later, and Fred practically shoved me backwards, onto the bed at the sudden rush of sound. I stumbled and fell onto the mattress, the momentum and the fact that the pair of us had been tangled together meaning that the heavy ginger twat was now lying on top of me, his eyes about an inch and a half from my own.
"Get off me." I hissed, he didn't move, as though he was dazed and frozen at the same time. "Fred! George is here!" That, at least, woke him enough to make him straighten up and pull me to my feet. "You need to get changed too!" There was a short pause, I raised my voice and looked towards the doorway, "all of you need to get changed – it's all very well saying I'll stand out, but Christ, look at you three – you look like Chippendales!"
The humour forced itself out of me before I could even stop it, and both the Weasley Twins looked utterly bamboozled, though Lee burst out laughing and held his hand up for a high-five. I left him hanging.
"There'll be time for that later – when we're not on the run from the law." I widened my eyes slightly, hoping he'd get the point, and he looked at me, then at Fred, and nodded. "Now, the three of you, go and change into... something normal."
George looked as though he was going to speak, so, once again, I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head.
"Change. Muggle. Clothes. Now." I smirked to myself and threw myself down on the bed. "I'm going to go and make a cup of tea."
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