A Weasley Twin

8.

As I turned the corner into the fourth floor corridor I smiled, seeing Fred leaning lazily against the wall. He managed to carry himself in such a relaxed way, as if he wasn't even standing there, just floating. This was a stance I could never achieve, I don't think I'd ever be as relaxed as he was even on his most stressful days. His eyes lit up when he saw me and I felt more confident than I had on the way here, more sure that I really liked him. I leaned into him and pressed my lips softly on his.

"Hi," he gave a lopsided grin.

"Hi," I responded, kissing him again.

"Granger, if this is what you brought me here for, I've gotta tell you I'm not that kind of girl," he smirked.

I pulled away, suppressing a laugh, "okay, I understand, I won't do it again."

"No, come back," he pouted, pushing himself up from against the wall to pull me back in.

"We are not going to be those people who hook up occasionally and barely talk the rest of the time," I said, feeling more insecure about the situation now.

"If you're worried about George saying something-" he began.

"No, I just- You know I don't want to hurt Ron."

"He won't find out," he said, tilting my chin up to look at him.

"Okay," I whispered as his lips once again met mine, a low sense of guilt settling in my stomach.

I walked back to the common room with the widest grin on my face, impossible to suppress but my smile faded as I entered to see Harry sitting alone, looking distant.

"I'm sorry for pushing," I said, almost startling him.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," he smiled sadly before hugging me.

"I have so much to tell you but you have to promise to not judge me or tell Ron!" I smiled nervously, unable to keep my secret relationship a secret.

"Tell me what?" inquired Ron, walking in at the best possible time.

I winced at the sound of his voice, "well I can't tell you or it won't be a surprise."

The guilt was rising inside me and I couldn't believe I was keeping something this big from him but I also couldn't tell him. Not when I wasn't sure if it would even work out. I didn't want to put him through any unnecessary pain, he'd liked me for almost five years after all.

"What a bitch," George groaned, as he stepped through the portrait.

"What happened?" Ron asked, thankfully distracted.

"Fucking Umbridge confiscated almost a quarter of the shops supplies that we brought with us. Fireworks, skiving sweets and all," Fred scowled.

"Hate that bloody woman," Ron joined in. I was just glad he seemed to have forgotten what he'd heard.

"Surely she can't do that," I said. "That's your property. But I guess if she's pretty much running the school at this point we can't even say anything."

For the most part of the rest of the evening we continued talking about everything wrong with Umbridge but the whole time I couldn't shift the feeling of Fred's eyes lingering on me for a little too long every time he looked at me. Not that I minded, of course. And every so often George would nudge him to make him aware of it. I liked George. He could be a prick but he was definitely a good brother.