A/N: This is the first real chapter update in two years! Yikes! I'm still writing this story, I promise. I'm as far along as the second task. Every chapter I write I will upload a new chapter as well. That will keep be on track! Thanks for all the reviews and my new and old follow/favorites!

Chapter 17: Parties and Pastries

The common room exploded with cheers and yells and chants. Mountains of sweets and goblets of pumpkin juice and butterbeer covered every table. Bright banners of celebration flashed in the torchlight. Lee even set off fireworks as Fred and George lifted Harry up into the air with all our fellow Gryffindors' crowded around. He tossed the precious golden egg into the crowd.

"We knew you wouldn't die, Harry," George patted my friend's shin. The twins shared an identical grin.

"Lose a leg."

"Or an arm."

"Pack it in altogether..."

"Never," they shouted in unison.

Seamus pushed through the students, golden egg in hand. He kidded it and raised it up to Harry, saying, "Go on, what's the clue?"

Hermione, however, raised her voice in opposition, "He can't! He needs to figure it out alone. The rules say –"

"Open it," a few of the older students yelled over Hermione.

"You want me to open it," Harry shouted at us. We all cheered. Even Hermione grinned enthusiastically. Harry gently ran his fingers over the golden shell and pried it open. If it weren't for the loud, screeching wail that emitted from the egg, I would have wondered why it was empty. We all shouted in protest, covering our ears from the shattering noise. The twins nearly dropped Harry in order to cover their own ears.

"Shut it," I yelled up at Harry.

Once the egg was closed and the screeching stopped, someone at the portrait hole spoke up, "What the bloody hell was that?"

It was Ron.

"Alright everyone, go back to your knitting," Fred cleared his throat. "This is gonna be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in."

As Ron approached Harry, our fellow students stared to go about their own business. Hermione and I took up the couch in front of the fire with Ginny as we watched the boys. Ron stared down at his feet. I noticed his ears were red in shame, "I reckon you'd have to be barking mad to put your own name in the Goblet of Fire."

"Caught on have you," Harry's eyebrows raised. "Took you long enough."

"Wasn't just me who thought it," Ron pleaded, his eyes widened. "Everyone said it behind your back."

"Brilliant. Makes me feel loads better, thanks."

"At least I warned you about the dragons," Ron insisted. Hermione rolled her eyes at this statement.

"That was Hagrid," Harry scoffed.

"No! No, I did. Remember? I told Hermione to tell you that Seamus told me that Parvati told Dean that Hagrid was looking for you."

"Not this again," Hermione whispered quietly. Ginny and I giggled as Ron continued.

"Okay, Seamus never actually told me anything. So it was me all along. I thought you'd be alright, you know, after you figured that out."

"Who could possibly figure that out," Harry shook his head incredulously. "That's completely mental."

"I suppose it is isn't it. I was a bit distraught."

My head fell into my palm as I laughed at Ron's final reasoning. Hermione shook her head with a sigh, "Boys…"

The silence that followed was a little awkward. Harry and Ron continued to face each other but said no more. It was obvious that they had made up, but there was still a little bitterness there on Ron's part. It was Fred who broke the silence.

"Jam tart, anyone?" Fred had suddenly produced a plate full of tarts from the table behind the couch. He grinned mischievously as he held the plate in Hermione's direction. We all looked at them skeptically. "I haven't done anything to them. Honest. But the custard creams—"

From across the room, we saw Neville gag and spit out a custard cream that was sitting on a full plate on a table. George laughed. Hermione surprisingly took a tart. She stared at the sweet before asking, "Did you get all of the food from the kitchens?"

"Yep," Fred said proudly. "The house-elves are dead helpful. Would get me a roast ox if I asked."

"How do you get in," she asked innocently. It was too casual to be that innocent. I knew Hermione hated the way house-elves were treated and she was definitely up to something. Fred told her exactly how to get there but quickly became suspicious.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves on strike now? Trying to stir up a rebellion," asked George.

Fred gasped as if this was terrible news, "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Before Hermione could retort, something let out a squawking noise. Neville, who ate the custard cream, turned into a large bird. Those still left in the common room burst into laughter. Some students even came down the stairs to see what the commotion was. Less than a minute later, Neville molted, appearing completely normal again. He too laughed at what had just happened.

"Canary Creams", Fred announced to the crowd. "George and I invented them. Seven Sickles each!"

A few students surrounded the twins, asking them about their new product. Eventually, Ginny and Harry and Ron left for their dorms. Hermione and I still sat on the couch talking about nothing very important. From my position on the couch, I was able to see the twins taking names and Sickles for their Canary Creams. While George took notes, I watched Fred as he enthusiastically explained to his buyers about their new joke product. I smiled to myself as he used big, sweeping gestures and grinned widely at the excitement on the students' faces. I didn't notice Hermione's hand waving in front of my face until she stood up. She told me she was going to bed and took off up the stairs. I continued to watch Fred until George handed the parchment he had been writing on to Fred and went up the boys' stairs.

I took a deep breath and slid off the couch. I walked slowly to the side of the room Fred was at as he counted how many Canary Creams he and George had just sold. "Seems like business is booming," I chuckled pathetically.

Fred looked up. He smirked. "Well, we must use our fellow students to our advantage."

"Thank goodness Molly isn't here to take your product away," I added as Fred went back to counting. I bit my lip and looked up at the ceiling. Why was this so hard? Talking to Fred used to be so easy. "Um," I started again, "so was that the product you were working on? I mean, when you were so obviously working on Potions."

Fred chuckled, "Yep."

"Oh. Cool." I was biting the side of my tongue. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Is what you told Hermione true? About how to get to the kitchens?"

Fred looked back up at me. He held my gaze for a few seconds before I shyly looked away. "Sure is," he confirmed. "I wouldn't make up something like that. Especially when food is involved."

"Totally," I breathed.

"I can take you if you want."

My heart started pounding against my chest. "Oh. Cool," I repeated like a dumbass.

"Tomorrow, then," Fred asked me as he stood up. I nodded my head vigorously. "Meet me in front of the portrait tomorrow around two."

I answered with a stained 'okay'. Fred bid me goodnight and headed up the stairs to his dorm. I walked back to my own in a daze. Fred was going to show me to the kitchens tomorrow. Me and Fred. Fred and I. Oh Wizard God, are we going on a date?

It was not a date. I repeat: not a date. I had worn nice clothes, applied some makeup, and fluffed my tangled hair only to have Fred muss it up and proceed to tell me that this was only so I could confirm to Hermione that Fred was telling the truth. I deflated so fast. My Fight or Flight reflex was telling me to Flight. Oh, how I wanted to make up some excuse to run away. But the second Fred took my hand and pulled me down the corridor, I knew I wouldn't be able to run.

Fred took me down six floors and down the staircase to the entrance hall. We turned left at the bottom of the stairs and walked through a door I had never gone through before. Down a flight of stone steps we went and ended up in a stone corridor lit with torches and decorated with portraits made of food. My stomach growled loudly. Fred nudged my arm, telling me we were almost there. I had wanted to make a joke about us being alone, but I chickened out. Even though I was well versed in Fred Weasley's humor, I was terrified of freaking him out. I was a kid to him. His younger brother's friend. His god-sister, as Molly loved to put it.

We stopped halfway down the corridor and right in front of a portrait of a gigantic silver fruit bowl. Fred extended his arm and tickled the big green pear. It moved (which made me jump a little closer to Fred), chuckled, then turned into a large door handle. Fred wiggled his eyebrows at me and pulled the door open. I gasped. The room was about the size of the Great Hall with a high vaulted ceiling. Mountains of sparkling brass pots and pans were lined up against the walls which made the room even brighter. On the other end of the room, behind where the professors sat, was a large brick fireplace.

"Hello, Mr. Fred Weasley, sir," a little voice greeted us. A small house-elf with droopy ears and a wide nose stared up at us. She bowed lowly. "Mr. Fred Weasley is back so soon. Would Mr. Fred Weasley like his usual?"

"Why, yes, Dottie. And could you bring my friend Cora the same as well?"

"Right away Mr. Fred Weasley and friend Miss Cora."

As the house-elf, Dottie, scampered away, Fred led me to the middle of the kitchen where four long tables were placed. They looked to be positioned exactly like how they were in the Great Hall. As we sat at the Gryffindor counterpart table, I looked around at all of the little elves. There were hundreds just watching us. They smiled and bowed as they passed us. Each was wearing a tea towel with the Hogwarts crest stamped on it. Hermione was going to have a field day with this place.

"What do you think," Fred asked.

"It's fantastic," I beamed. "I never realized this is how we got our food."

"And the service is even better," Fred beamed. A larger house-elf walked by and Fred waved him over. "May we get a pot of tea?"

Suddenly, five little elves ran up to us. Two were carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups, one house-elf had a milk jug, another brought over a sugar dish, and the fifth had a large plate of cookies. I thanked them all as they bowed and scampered away.

I poured myself a cup of tea as Fred cleared his throat, "So. What do you think of the Canary Creams?"

"You want to know what I think," I asked a little shocked. I almost missed my teacup as I started pouring in milk. Fred nodded. "Well," I began, "I think the effects don't last long enough. I mean, Neville started to molt after what? A minute? Make it longer. If you can."

With that last sentence, I smirked into my tea cup. Fred's eyes went wide. "If I can," he huffed good-naturedly. Fred then went off into a rant about how he could do anything and how he and George were going to make the best joke items in the world.

I stared at him as he talked. My heart fluttered. Everything about Fred was attracting me to him. He was so much smarter than people gave him credit for. His passion was like a flame, burning brighter and brighter with each new prank idea. The way his hair fell into his amber eyes made me want to sweep those shaggy bangs aside as if to say: Here I am! Look at me! I like you! I wondered if he even knew how much I was under his spell. My chin was resting on my palm, propped up by an elbow on the table. I found myself smiling as Fred passionately told me some of his and George's new ideas for joke candies.

"You're going to do great things, Fred," I found myself confessing to the twin. Fred stared. When he broke his gaze, he gave me a small and, dare I say, shy grin. He didn't respond. He didn't have too.

We sat for quite some time in the kitchens. There was never a lapse in the conversation. Everything flowed seamlessly together. When we had our fill of a late lunch and tea, we decided it was finally time to leave. Many of the house-elves surrounded us, offering snacks to take back with us. I couldn't refuse, not with how the house-elves were bowing and curtsying. They looked so happy to have assisted us. So I ended up filling my pockets with sweets to take back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Fred and I were silent as we made the trek back up to the portrait. My mind was going a mile a minute, however. Fred was walking so close to me that the back of his hand would bump mine every few seconds. I was very much aware of this. I had to control mu breathing to calm my beating heart.

At the portrait, I gave the Fat Lady the password and we headed inside. It was quite empty with the exception of a few students, George, and Angelina. The two were talking quietly in front of the fire. While still in the darkness of the common room entrance, I lightly elbowed Fred's arm.

"Thanks for taking me to the kitchens."

"Any time," Fred nodded, waving me off.

I frowned, "I mean it."

Fred turned to me fully. Being a little shorter, I looked up at him. "I did too," he said softly.

I gulped. Part of me wanted to say something else; to not look stupid. If I could just tell him how I felt. But I never got my chance. George had turned around and saw his twin, calling him over. With a small wave, Fred walked off to join George and Angelina. My head fell back as I let out a small groan of frustration. I was never going to be able to tell Fred about my feelings. All I could do was head up to my dorm as I listened to Fred laugh at a joke Angelina made with a heavy heart.