Interlude of a Carrot: Pumpkin

'Merlin, maybe George is right, I am turning into a bird.'

Although it wasn't his fault he was staring down his reflection like it was going to pop out of the mirror to make George an' him a triplet instead of a duo. No, no, the fault remained entirely on the cute little bird who'd completely gob-smacked him a while ago. While he'd known Lyra liked them, Fred truly believed it was a bit of a crush and maybe a healthy dash of hero-worship mixed into one. Kind of like what Ginny had on Harry during her first year.

Nope. He was wrong, completely wrong. But then again, it wouldn't be the first time either he or George were wrong about their Minstrel.

How she'd described him was… Fred squinted at his reflection, mentally going over Lyra's confession. How she'd described him was both scary right and flattering. Well it was certainly more than a crush in any case as far as Fred could tell (He liked to think he defeated the stereotype about Weasley men and being oblivious about women).

Running his hand through his spiked hair before trying to smooth it down he eyed himself critically. Lyra had made him seem more like a noble than the cheerful court jester everyone else saw when they looked at him.

His mouth curved up at the ends into a sly smile at the thought of being nobility. Percy definitely had the role of 'Princely Prefect' down. Why couldn't he have a title to 'Viscount Fred...' He thought with a small chuckle. It had a nice ring to it.

He thrived off people's laughter, which was true. But Lyra had made him seem so damn powerful as if it were by his leave that the people around him laughed. It may have been a bit conceited of him to enjoy that description so much but hey, he was the more handsome and brilliant twin after all. She was right; it was a powerful feeling to have people completely under his (and George's of course. He was always willing to share the spotlight with his magnificent twin) spell.

Isn't that why he was going into the business of pranks and laughs to begin with? Because it felt phenomenal to make someone laugh. It gave you power over them in a way, drawing a reaction in a way they hadn't guessed. Some people didn't even laugh voluntarily (he swore he saw Malfoy snickering at one of their pranks once!).

His eyes twinkled as he leaned on the porcelain of the sink leaning further into the mirror flashing his reflection his trade mark Weasley twin smirk.

"Freddie, Freddie, Freddie hot as a raging fire and just as dangerous…"

Wasn't he though? The smirk he wore got a slightly cocky edge as he tilted his head and winked playfully at his reflection. Dangerous, Fred fancied himself, just a bit dangerous. Most of the Slytherins did hesitate when crossing wands with him if he were alone and in that regard Fred supposed he was untouchable and a might bit cruel as Lyra admitted he was and Fred agreed whole-heartedly.

Right, enough with over thinking every word the rabbit spoke. That was George's job after all! His better half was the cautious one. Chuckling to himself he carded his fingers through his hair using the hand still bracing against the sink to push-off as he turned around.

But it was still a problem. What the hell did they do about it now? Raising his hand up to see his new tattoo in the dim light he squinted at the violet symbols. 'Song'. He had no idea how he knew that's what it meant but that's what it meant. He'd bet his half of the shop on it. Tracing the branded skin he furrowed his brows. With a frustrated sigh he whirled back to the mirror glaring at his reflection.

Lyra wasn't even his type, or at least…when she hadn't completely reformed his idea of his own 'type'. Fred could admit he liked someone with a larger than life personality similar to his own someone with Gryffindor Courage (or at least pretty close) great body and great at or at least interested in Quidditch and flying, so athletic (part of why he asked Angelina to the Yule ball back in sixth, good choice, but it didn't go anywhere). Someone who could be playful but fierce when it came down to protecting someone they cared about…well that was the jist of it anyways. Really though, she seemed more George's type than his anyways.

So how in Godric's name did he find himself growing fonder of a girl who was practically half in love with him, ran at every turn and fully admitted she had no ounce of courage in her petite body? A girl who had her fair share of secrets (and then some), a rich heiress who'd never had a friend that was well…human.

'The MacKade heiress would resent that…' He joked mentally trying to lighten his thoughts a bit and it almost worked (But since his thoughts returned to Lyra and that devious jack-rabbit was giving him a bit'o'trouble…well…it didn't exactly work).

A half Minstrel who appreciated their jokes and more supported their dreams. Gave them her undying Hufflepuff-like loyalty against Umbridge (and that one time at Granger which disproved her 'no courage' theory) but keeping them at a distance all the while claiming herself too dangerous. And while she didn't seem athletic she'd proven herself to be quite flexible. A very, very, big plus in his books.

Groaning he leaned forward until his forehead pressed against the cool mirror.

Damn he was falling quickly; all she had to do was look at him with that bitter-sweet smile, call him Freddie completely twist him into knots with a nearly perfect personality description and he was a fucking sap. He was practically spewing poetry in the bloody loo for crips sake. And that was his…er…his and George's problem.

She'd put the quaffle in their hands so to speak.

Confessed her feelings for the both of them, and then in pure Lyra running fashion, said she was going to stay away from them for a couple of days because of some rubbish about her magic sustaining her mark. Opening his eyes to get a good look at his dodger blue eyes he let out a frustrated sigh through his nose pulling back.

And she would too. Both he and George had agreed to give her some time. Time for her to actually come to terms she'd voiced aloud her feelings (which again, Fred scowled, he'd misjudged rather significantly). And time for he and George to figure out what they were going to do about her feelings and the feelings unfortunately both he and George were developing for the girl.

Knowing the next part of the conversation would be done better with his twin and not the silent show down he was having with his reflection he withdrew and moved back into the bed room area pulling off his tie as he went.