Emma could see Fred and George, dressed far more stylishly than she'd ever seen them, in what looked like brand new dragon-skin jackets, talking to Ron, who must have gotten off the platform just before her.
Fred looked her direction, saw her standing there, staring at her, and he smiled.
Dropping her trunk beside Tien, who dutifully stood by it like a well-trained bulldog, Emma ran toward Fred, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lifted her a bit into the air, pressing his lips to hers.
Even some of the Muggles had stopped to watch them, smiling and saying things to each other about young love and all that. Emma just clung to Fred, kissing him back eagerly, only breaking apart when his mother began tittering about how sweet they were and Fred's lips twitched into a smirk against hers.
She was still hurt about Sirius, but the war wasn't so scary with Fred with her again.
He walked over and got her trunk.
"You've not got a place to stay yet?" he asked her. Emma shook her head. "All right, you'll stay with us then," he said with a grin, gesturing at himself and George. "We've got a flat above the shop, plenty of room for one more."
They kissed their mother goodbye, Emma hugged Tien and said she'd write her, and then George took Emma's trunk, Fred took her hand, and when no one was looking and a train blew it's whistle the trio Disapparated.
When Emma opened her eyes and steadied herself on Fred's torso, she found that they were standing in a stylish, modestly furnished two-bedroom flat with hard-wood floors, and a large window to let in the summer light.
"Wow," she sighed.
"Wow's right," Fred said with an eagerness in his voice like a child at Christmas. "Wanna see our room?"
"Our?" Emma asked, thinking he and George were still sharing a room, like they'd done growing up.
"Yeah," he said, dragging her down the hall by the hand. "Yours and mine."
Something about thinking of 'our' as something she would be sharing with Fred made her heart twist excitedly, and she grinned a bit to match his wide grin, watching him kick back the door.
He must have cleaned up in anticipation of her arrival, because there was no way he would have kept the room that clean for any other reason.
She hardly noticed when he closed the door behind them as she took in the room.
There wasn't much floor space. He'd put a very large bed in the center of the room with a small bedside table to one side of it. His closet was in the corner. She realized the toilet must have been in the room she'd passed on their way to the room.
"I've missed you," he whispered against her neck, and Emma shivered. "I hope it wasn't too awful for you once I left."
She could have told him how Umbridge treated her, trying to get information. She could have mentioned her stress at taking her N.E.W.T.s, her fear at the future, the chaos of her last few days at school...
"Sirius is dead," she said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Fred dropped to the spot beside her.
"Yeah," he whispered. "At least they managed to finally clear his name, even if it was only after he died."
"He never got to live his life like he should have," she whispered sadly. "Were you there?"
Fred shook his head.
"I didn't know it happened until the next day. George and I were working, and then we closed up, had some food, went to bed. I had no idea until Mum came and told us."
Emma nodded, looking down at her shoes.
"Then Dumbledore came that evening," he sighed. "He wants George and me to join the Order, officially. They need people, I guess."
"What did you say?" she asked, her stomach clenching as she looked up at him.
He smiled sadly.
"I wanted to wait until I had a chance to talk to you," he admitted with a shrug. "George wanted to wait until I'd decided, although I know he wants to join."
"And you?" Emma asked nervously. "What do you want?"
"Emma," Fred sighed, grasping one of her hands in both of his, "I know you probably want me to stay with you and not do this, but I-"
"Fred, I've already told Dumbledore that I'd join," she said nervously. "He said I could save lives. I... I'm already in the Order. I can't and won't stop you if you want to join, too."
He blinked at her. Then he grinned, although the grin slipped quickly.
"You've joined the Order," he said in a strained, nervous voice. "You've joined the Order... Like Sirius."
Emma pursed her lips together sheepishly, looking down at their hands.
"You want to join too," she pointed out after a brief hesitation. "I don't see why I can't make that decision, too."
"You didn't ask me, though," he sighed. "I wish you would have asked me. I waited to ask you."
"It was a bit different," she said, scrunching her face with annoyance. "I had Professor Dumbledore sitting right there, he made it seem like I had to answer right away. I felt like I didn't have a choice but to say yes or no, and when he mentioned saving lives..."
Fred sighed.
"I suppose I overreacted," he admitted. "I'm just scared of losing you."
A feeling settled in her gut that told her, reminded her about how easy it would be to lose Fred, for Fred to lose her. What would she say if she allowed Fred to fight, and he died? What would she tell his mother? Wouldn't it somehow be her fault? At least her decision would be her own, not something her parents could blame Fred for.
Or couldn't they? She supposed a grieving parent would do anything to find someone tangible to blame.
"So we're both joining the Order then?" he asked nervously, touching her chin.
Emma nodded.
"I guess we are."
"Well, then," he said, his voice a bit more assured, "I guess that means we'll have to live every day like it's the last one, won't we?"
"Don't you already do that?" she snorted.
"Even more so, I mean," he said softly. "Emma, I love you."
"I love you too," she whispered.
"I want to ask you something," he said softly. "I don't want you to interrupt me. I don't want this to be a huge deal. I... Okay?"
"No, that's fine," she said, feeling curiosity filling the pit of her stomach.
"Okay," Fred sighed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about how I don't want to be without you ever again. I've been thinking about how the war can tear people apart. Bill just got engaged, you know. And Mum and Dad married in the last war. And... I mean, I don't my mother to get her claws into me, make me do a big wedding like Bill's like to have with his high-maintenance fiancée. But I... I want you to be mine, Emma. I want to marry you, on paper anyway, and we won't tell anyone but George and you'd still go by your surname and then after the war we can do a wedding and maybe we'll never tell people that we were already married but I... I want... I..."
He trailed off awkwardly and looked up at Emma with wide eyes, pleading eyes, desperate eyes.
It wasn't how she'd imagined being proposed to. It wasn't what she'd thought of for her wedding or the honeymoon or anything like it, but Fred made a very good point: War tore people apart.
And so she found herself saying yes and Fred kissing her eagerly before she even knew what was happening.
Somehow they'd gone from sitting beside each other at the foot of the bed to him straddling her as she lay back in the middle of the large bed, kissing him hungrily. It had been so long, too long, since she last tasted him, and he tasted even more divine than she had remembered. Her head was spinning with thoughts and emotions and logistics and the feel of him. Everything was moving so fast.
But as they both knew, they'd wasted enough time pretending there was nothing between them.
Emma could feel Fred peeling her sweater off her, was vaguely aware of him tossing his jacket to the side before returning to press open-mouthed kisses across her bared skin. She sighed, running her fingers through his thick red hair.
Why shouldn't they be married?
"Are we going to tell George, at least?" she sighed as he lifted her up slightly to get at the clasp of her bra. He fumbled with it for a moment before she felt the elastic loosen and he pulled it off her.
"Do you want to?" he said, distracted as he pulled off his own shirt, allowing her to run her fingers across the muscles she could happily attribute to Quidditch.
"I don't know," she moaned as he nipped at her breasts playfully while working off her jeans. "I mean, he's so important to you, he'd be upset if we... Mmm, if we didn't... Fred, I can't think when you do that!"
"That's the idea," he teased, licking her through the lace panties Katie had bought her. "You taste so good," he moaned, licking her again.
"We'll discuss later," she sighed, working her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer desperately.
He moaned, the vibration sending a rush of arousal to her core. Fred continued licking through the lace, and Emma found herself grinding slightly against his face, desperate for more friction, for an increase in the pleasurable sensations he was causing in her.
She realized she'd begun whimpering when he fished through his pocket for his wand and muttered something at the door.
They didn't want George walking in or hearing them, of course.
As he continued to lick her ever more vigorously, she was vaguely aware of him undoing his trousers and working his way out of them eagerly.
Emma was barely conscious of the world around her when she hit her climax, and she whimpered slightly as he licked up some of her juices. She was aware that he was pulling her panties off her, down her legs, working them around her feet and sticking them in a drawer that she noted already had a few pairs of panties she'd been missing for a while. She would have giggled if her mind wasn't so hazy from pleasure. Then she watched him take off his pants, kicking them off without a care as to where they were going, and Emma sighed as he leaned down and kissed her vigorously.
It didn't take long for him to enter her, for their bodies to begin a vaguely familiar rhythm, in and out, in and out...
Nothing else mattered but the pleasure rising up inside of her, the taste and feel and smell of Fred all wrapping up her senses and taking over the entire world in her mind. What else could possibly matter? She had Fred and... and...
He was beginning to groan quite gutturally, and she could feel her own breath shortening. Close, so close...
She grasped at his sweat-coated back desperately. They came undone together, her screaming out his name, him crying out his forceful cry of pleasure, and then they collapsed together, their bodies intertwined more than Emma had realized when they were making love. Fred nuzzled his face against her chest, resting his head against her breasts. She lay back against the pillows, running her fingers lazily and happily through his sweat-soaked red hair.
"I love you," Emma whispered. "I love you so much."
"I love you too, beautiful," he sighed, his breath tickling her skin. "Let's just stay like this forever, never leave this room again."
Emma would have agreed with that plan wholeheartedly, but there were things to do, and that was without getting married and fighting in a war.
They showered after lounging in his (their) bed together for about an hour, and then they went out to help George make dinner, only to find that he'd already made it.
"Well, I was hungry," he teased. "I wasn't about to wait around and see when you two were done shagging like bunnies."
Despite the joke at her expense, Emma was so hungry she found she couldn't be upset with George, even a little bit.
They had dinner together, almost like family, and Emma ate with her left hand so she could hold Fred's hand as she ate. Despite the fact that she knew they would have plenty of time together, she'd been longer than she wanted without him, and so she didn't want to let him go.
"So how were your N.E.W.T.s do you think?" George asked casually.
Emma shrugged.
"I think they were all right," she admitted. "I'll find out soon enough, I suppose. But all I really need is a good score in Muggle Studies, which I'm sure I got. I'm probably working in your dad's department."
The twins shifted almost uncomfortably in their chairs. Emma frowned at them, wondering what the problem was.
"Well, you won't make a lot," Fred said slowly, "but George and I are doing quite well enough that you don't really need to worry about that. But... well, working for the Ministry isn't exactly what I would wish on anyone at the moment."
Ah, yes, that.
Emma sighed and said, "You know, Fred, it's a good placement for the Order, and I do need a job."
"No, you don't," Fred said firmly, and she frowned.
"Fred, even if we're married, I want to have my own job," she said slowly.
"Yes, I know," he said, realizing that it was important to her. "But... but you don't have to. If you decide you don't want to work for the Ministry of Morons after all, you don't have to work. At least, not until you find something that suits you. I... you know what I mean."
In a way she did. He was proud that he could provide for her, that financially she had no need to work, but it wasn't finances she was thinking about. It was her sanity.
But she understood how important it was to him, so she just said, "I understand. But let's not talk about my stuff, okay? Tell me about the joke shop."
So the twins eagerly obliged, telling her all about the joke shop, a few anecdotes about customers, and some top-secret information on the things they were developing.
"I think I'll take you down tomorrow to take a look at the stuff," Fred said happily. "And then I'll take you out for ice cream. And then maybe I'll take you shopping, since you did leave some stuff at your parents' place, and-"
"I get the idea, thanks, Fred," she sighed.
And get married.
They were going to get married the following day, and from the sound of things Fred was going to spoil her on top of it all. He did have money to blow, from the looks of things, but that didn't mean she was entirely comfortable with him blowing it all on her. She would allow it for a little while to make up for not consulting with him before committing to the Order, but they were going to have to have a talk about how he behaved toward spending gold on her.
The three of them finished dinner and then settled in the common area, Fred and Emma curling up on the sofa and George laying down on the rug on the floor because he wanted to lie down and stare at the ceiling, he said.
"We're done," George said after a moment. "I mean, for all of us, school's over. We're adults, like our parents."
"Except not like our parents," Fred said quickly.
"Right but... well, I mean, we're joining the Order, aren't we? All the things we were so eager for not so long ago... I don't know if I'm so eager right now."
Fred shifted a bit, holding Emma a bit tighter, and even though he didn't say as much out loud she knew by the way he pulled her closer to his chest that he wasn't feeling quite so eager, either, not anymore.
"What do you think a wizarding war will be like?" she asked. "Anything like the Muggle wars?"
"I dunno," George said with a shrug, putting his hands on his chest. "What are Muggle wars like?"
Emma thought for a moment, pursing her lips together, considering all she had learned in her Muggle history books she'd spent years reading by the light of a torch. With a sigh, she said, "They're bloody, messy, full of death and destruction and loss, and usually not for very good reasons. Someone wins and someone loses and the losers are punished."
Then she shrugged.
George nodded slowly.
"I think it's going to be just like that," he said sadly. "I think we've only seen the very beginning with this battle at the Ministry. The real question is if the Ministry is going to wake up and act properly or if we're still going to be fighting a two-front war."
Emma shivered slightly, feeling Fred hugging her tightly as she did so.
"Maybe we should go to bed," Fred muttered. "See you in the morning, Georgie."
"Yeah," George teased. "I won't be waking you up, so you'll need to be getting your own lazy arses out of bed. I'm not walking in on you two all naked. Have fun, though."
Emma didn't pay much attention to George's teasing as she got up and led Fred to their room, but Fred kicked his leg playfully as they passed him.
"I love you," Fred whispered, pulling off his clothes and climbing into bed before Emma, who followed suit, cuddling close to him. "You know that?"
She nodded, kissing his chest.
"I love you too, Fred," she whispered.
"And that's all that matters," he said softly, caressing her hair.
All that mattered.