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─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Harry was alright. He had woken up from his unsettling sleep, much to everyone's relief, and suffered injuries that could easily be fixed. Fred and George were more than happy — after much worry, they still had a brilliant seeker on their team. Despite being overjoyed with Harry's positive health, this didn't overpower the feeling of loss. Gryffindor had been hit hard with the defeat, especially Oliver Wood. He had more than a couple suicidal thoughts floating around in his head right now.
Of course, Gryffindor's loss had made Hufflepuff more than happy. They were concerned for Harry's well-being, but that didn't distract from the fact they had won. Someone who was especially happy was Eleanor, who was now owed 5 Galleons from Fred.
As the twins made their way back to the common room after visiting Harry in the hospital, Fred caught sight of Eleanor waiting for him by the Fat Lady. She had changed out of her quidditch gear into a Hufflepuff sweater too big for her, but her damp hair was piled messily on top of her head and a streak of mud still ran across her cheek. Upon seeing her, Fred hastily turned to go back down the corridor he had just walked up.
"Oh no you don't," George scolded, grabbing hold of Fred by the shoulders and wheeling him back around to face her.
"Don't make me do this, Georgie," Fred pleaded, grim expression on his face. "Please."
"Actions have consequences," George said. He nodded at Eleanor, cheerful smile on his face, before walking through the portrait hole. "Chicken," he muttered under his breath.
Eleanor was leant against the wall, grinning, with her hands folded across her chest. "You were about to flake on me," she pointed out.
Fred scoffed, too dramatic to sound truthful. "I'm insulted you would even insinuate that," he insisted, shaking his head. "Instead of automatically assuming I'm a flake, have you ever considered that you're just a paranoid person, Evil Eleanor?"
"Not particularly," answered Eleanor. "Especially when I know I'm correct."
He raised an eyebrow, challenged. "Well if you're not paranoid, you're definitely smug," Fred countered, crossing his own arms. He hadn't realised yet that he was mirroring her actions.
A smirk found it's way onto Eleanor's face. "I can't tell if you're fighting or flirting, Red," she said.
Fred shrugged, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. "Both."
A small laugh found it's way past her lips, something that oddly sent a warm rush through Fred's body. It was a new, electrifying feeling that he wanted to experience again. He couldn't help but smile.
