Written for Morning Lilies' Connect the Weasleys Challenge at HPFC. Prompts: Fred/Roxanne, quarrel
Fred was not one to overthink. People who knew him best (and therefore, were most exasperated with him) would assert that he was not one to think, period. Most days, he'd agree with them. Tonight, though, he mulled over Dominique's cryptic statements from earlier.
In the Gryffindor common room, he occupied one of the chairs, feet across one armrest, head on the other, swinging his Beater's bat lazily. He dangled it, brought it up in an arc, and swung it back down.
If Dominique left, how would he slog through family Christmases? There was Grandpa Arthur, and James was cool, but—
His bat hit something with an ugly crack, and he craned his neck to see what it was. His sister cried out from across the room, and he realized that he'd smashed her astronomical model. Dimly, he recalled her setting it on the table beside his chair.
"Oh no, Roxanne! Here, let me help you." He brought out his wand, ready to repair the break, but she bounded across the room and snatched her glass dome away.
"Never mind, Fred. You've done enough damage," she snapped, running to the girls' dormitories. He sighed, letting his bat fall to the floor with a thump.
They'd never been friends. It was a curious concept to him. He saw it all the time, of course; growing up Weasley meant being surrounded by relatives. Law of numbers—there were simply too many of them, some were bound to be best mates. And some, like Roxanne and him, were far from it. They simply had nothing in common, except for the desire to get out of each other's hair.
How could twins hate each other? Their mother would say, expecting no answer. Their father was more forgiving—his only wish is for them to not shout at each other when they're at the dining table. And now Fred learns that Dominique is planning to leave after school. He didn't want to admit it, but he thought that if Dominique goes away, it'll be harder on him than if his real sister left.
She stared at the perfect little rings around Saturn, at the grains of sand meant to represent rocks the size of the Great Hall. Roxanne fixed the glass easily, and once she did, she brought it to her bed, drew the curtains shut, and just stared at the model.
Saturn has such regular little rings.
She'd saved up for this. She bought it even if they weren't allowed to use it in Astronomy. She just loved looking at the planets, seeing how regular and smooth they seemed to move. Like clockwork.
It was probably wrong of her to talk to Fred like that. Then again, if he wasn't swinging that stupid bat around, she wouldn't have did it. He's always showing off, always proving how much faster, or stronger, or funnier, or crazier he is than everyone else.
And yet—Roxanne thought, running a hand over the glass dome—why does she feel like she's missing out on something? She hasn't talked to her twin brother in three years. At least, not properly. But she couldn't bear the idea of coming up to him and striking up a conversation. He'd probably look at her strangely. Ask her if she's sick.
"Roxanne and I are nothing like each other," she overheard him say once. "You can't ask her to try for the Quidditch team; she won't know the first thing about it."
"She's not the type to go to a Muggle rock concert, Dominique."
"I don't think she does anything other than study, really."
Well, it's true that she didn't really like Quidditch, or rock concerts. But he couldn't know that for sure, he never talked to her. So, how dare he speak on her behalf? How dare he do anything on her behalf. More and more, she realized, she'd been wishing she was born alone.
She felt like she was alone most days, anyway.
Roxanne and Fred are not normally portrayed as twins, but I thought I'd give it a shot. Please tell me what you think about this chapter!