10 April 1996
"I think it was just up here," Hermione mused aloud, towing Fred behind her. They were in the wing of the castle that housed the arithmancy and ancient runes classrooms, so the odds of Ron or Harry seeing them together were exceedingly low. Plus, it was nearly time for dinner and most everyone was either in their common room or headed to The Great Hall.
"Is this the one with the shelf?" Fred asked with faux dread, following merrily along with both her bag and his slung over his shoulder.
"No, that was the third floor," she laughed. "This is the one that's sort of shaped like an L. I don't think Filch has even been near it in the past decade.
They arrived at the door of a broom cupboard and she turned the handle, looking both ways to make sure the corridor was deserted, before opening it. Fred wasted no time driving her backward with his hands on her hips, until her bum hit the wall across from the door, which shut with a click behind them.
"We have to be quick," Fred said, dropping their bags and pulling his outer robes off while Hermione did the same with hers. He then went to work unbuttoning her blouse. "I'm supposed to meet Lee at dinner."
"I think you can manage quick," she teased, reaching for his belt and using it to tug him toward her.
"Oh, I'm going to make you pay for that," he vowed playfully, voice muffled by her cleavage as he peppered the tops of her breasts with hurried kisses.
"Please don't," came a third voice from down the long side of the proverbial L.
Hermione yelped and quickly pulled her shirt closed across her front.
"What the hell?!" Fred exclaimed, crouching and fumbling for his wand among their discarded robes.
With a muttered lumos, he turned and extended it in the direction the voice had come from to reveal Angelina and George in a similar state of undress and dishevelment near the wall opposite them.
"Fred?"
"George?"
"Hermione?"
"Angie?"
All four stood stock-still in the dim wandlight. Angelina was in just her skirt and a purple bra, blouse having apparently been discarded, and Fred turned his gaze respectfully toward a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling.
Nobody seemed to know precisely what to say until Angelina suddenly sneezed and broke the silence.
"Well, umm," Fred started slowly, eyes still cast devoutly upward, "We're – we're going to go."
He gestured vaguely in the direction of the door, as if the other couple might have forgotten where the exit was.
"Yeah, that's – that's probably a good idea," George agreed. His hair was sticking up on one side like a cockatoo and the zip on his trousers was half-down.
Everyone was flushed for one reason or another and Hermione re-buttoned her shirt as quickly as possible while Fred tried to discern whose robes were whose in the dim light. When they were both fully dressed again, he snatched their bags from the ground and they tumbled through the door, back into the hallway.
"See you at dinner!" Angelina called after them as it fell closed once more.
oOoOoOo
George arrived in their bedroom after having finished eating, which, for him at least, had been a truly harrowing affair. Angelina and Hermione had broken into spontaneous laughing fits twice upon making eye contact, much to the confusion of those around them, while Fred and George, on the other hand, had adamantly avoided looking at one another.
Lee sat between them all quietly, like a child whose parents were having a row.
When George stepped around the door to toss his bag on his bed, he saw Fred was already reclined on it, waiting for him.
"Freddie," he greeted apprehensively, toeing his shoes off near the wardrobe.
"Georgie," Fred replied, nodding. There was a beat of silence. "So, you and Angie?"
George flushed. "I'm sorry, I was going to tell you," he said guiltily. This seemed to confuse Fred, his eyebrows pulling together a little.
"Why are you sorry?"
"I just meant – well, the two of you –"
"Nuh-uh," Fred said, cutting him off. "I'm sure Angelina already said this, but we weren't serious. Not remotely to the point of you needing to disclose anything to me."
The knot in his stomach eased a little. "She did, it just still felt a little wrong."
Fred sat up and waved a hand as if he could physically push the concern to the side. "If the two of you make each other happy, go and shag it out in every broom cupboard in the castle. Just make sure to put a bloody locking charm on the door first, for the love of Merlin."
"Agreed," George said, sighing in relief before adding, "As long as you and Hermione check to make sure the room isn't occupied before you start undressing one another."
Fred grinned, not the least bit ashamed, and like that the topic was closed. He got up and stepped back to his own bed, bending to dig his pyjamas from his trunk.
"I heard back from the property owner on 93," George informed him, tossing an envelope onto the duvet. Fred took it and extracted a piece of parchment, eyes scanning and then widening in surprise.
"He came down on asking?"
George nodded. "If we agree, he'll meet us in Hogsmeade day after tomorrow to sign paperwork. We'll have to sneak out, but then we can take possession right before Easter."
He watched as the exact same emotions he'd experience himself flickered across Fred's face.
Excitement, apprehension, and finally a sort of bittersweet misery.
"Yeah, I know," George huffed sympathetically.
They finished getting ready for bed in silence.