✔️ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 → ℎ. 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

10 | G A M E S

but in all chaos there is calculation.
dropping glasses                        
                     just to hear them break.

   "LAST TIME I asked you to drink, you almost chopped off my brilliant head", Fred scoffed, cocking his eyebrow at the raven haired girl with her lips pressed against the opening of a bottle of Firewhiskey she had just snatched out of Fred's hand.

   Ember had bursted into the room, eyebrows furrowed and the blood rushing through her ears sounding like tossing waves.

   "I was fourteen back then, and you were absolutely inappropriate", Ember growled as she put the bottle down. Fred tried to get it back, but Ember jerked her arm out of his reach, now lifting an eyebrow herself. "Don't you dare, Frederick Weasley, I'll break your fingers!"

   Fred laughed, sitting back on his bed.

   "What's got your wand twisted, girl?", George asked from the other bed, looking bemused. "If I wouldn't know better, I'd say you met our dear auntie Murriel, but Fred and I perfectly arranged that she will never set a toe into this house ever again."

   Ember didn't reply. Sinking onto the empty plank bed that had been set up in the twins' room for Bill, she just shook her head and took another sip of the burning liquid.

   Straight after Remus told her goodbye, Ember was about to finally speak to Harry; a talk she now has avoided for far to long. With shaking hands and a unwell twisting in her guts, she had made her way climbing up the stairs all the way up to the attic. Muffled voices out of Ron's room did already reach her ears.

   "How could she think I'd like something like that, though?", Ron's voice had sounded through the closed door, and for a brief second, Ember had hesitated with her fist already raised to knock on the door.

"Well, think back", Harry had snickered. "Have you ever let it slip that you'd like to go out in public with the words 'My Sweetheart' round your neck?"

   Ember rolled her eyes as she recognised what they were talking about, and every thought of politeness was gone. Screw knocking! Ember had pushed down the handle and forcefully had chimed into the small, flaming orange painted room, not even owing Ron the tiniest blink of a look, as she had said, "Harry, can we talk?", just in time to hear Ron stutter, "Well ... we don't really talk much. It's mainly ..."

   "Snogging", Harry had said, laughing, just before he had turned toward his sister. "Oh, hey Em, what did you say?"

   But Ember's eyes had found their way to Ron. His face had grown pale, but his ears were burning crimson red. It was what he held in his hand, what caught her attention: Dangling from the chain in large gold letters were the words: MY SWEETHEART.

   "Oh. Er ... Never mind ..." She had slammed the door shut and was halfway down the stairs before anyone could hold her back, bursting into the twins' room - and there she was now.

   "Okay, enough now!", George groaned, who after two hours had laid down in his bed, glaring daggers at his brother and Ember. "It's two in the  damn morning, and I need to sleep! I'm meeting Angelina in six hours, and I swear you need to be absolutely fit for this girl!"

   "You are meeting Angelina?", Ember asked, her vision blurred, as she stared at George curious, before her eyes wandered toward Fred. "But Ron said it was you and Angelina?" Fred grinned in response, and Ember's head tilted to the right. "Wait a second, you aren't sharing a girl, are you? Oh Merlin, is this some sort of sick twinces—"

   "You're sick!", Fred laughed, throwing a pillow at her head, next second he snatched the half emptied bottle of Firewhiskey out of her hand. "And you definitely had enough", he then chuckled. "With thoughts like that, I personally will make sure that you'll never drink ever again."

   "You're such a party pooper!", Ember pouted. "If you really think I'll go to bed now, you're so damn wrong, mister!"

   "I don't care what you are doing now, but do it quiet or in an other room", George scoffed, and another pillow hit the back of Ember's head.

   "Okay, c'mon, let's leave the grumpy old man alone", Fred grinned, grabbing Ember's hand. "Let's go into the kitchen, there's still something left of Mum's pie if none of my siblings already had the same idea."

   They took the stairs on tiptoes to not wake anyone. The whole house was sound asleep, from afar you could hear Bill's muffled snoring, who had obviously chosen to stay with Fleur for the night in Ginny's room. The moment Ember started wondering wherever Ginny had escaped the couple, they arrived in the kitchen and with a flick of his wand, Fred levitated the leftovers of Mrs Weasley's peacan pie to the table.

   "So what is this now with Angelina?", Ember asked, her eyes suddenly feeling heavy and tired.

   "It's George", Fred chuckled in a low voice. "It's always been George. He's absolutely crazy for her. Always had been. People think it's me dating her, because I spend that much time with her, but actually I just paved the way for George." He snorted a muffled laughter. "Since they started dating and people can't really differ us, they think it's me."

   "Confusing as hell", Ember giggled.

   "Because you're drunk as hell", Fred replied, grinning mischievously.

   "Am not!", Ember indignantly hiccuped.

   "Shh!" Fred's hand clutched over her mouth. "Yes you are, and you're way too loud, too, little Embergirl." He removed his hand.

   "Oh yeah, I am loud", she scoffed, "says Fred Weasley, the man who can't live two minutes without blowing something up."

   "When it comes down to it, I can be pretty silent, love."

   "Yaah, you bet." Rolling her eyes was not one of her best ideas; dizziness overcame her and she grabbed for the table to stop the spinning in her head.

   "Ah, a bet, huh?", he replied, wriggling his eyebrows. "Challenge accepted."

   "What are you talking about?", Ember asked, pursing her lips.

   "How about a game to find out who can keep his mouth shut?" Fred leaned closer to her. "I'll try to have you make a noise, and you'll do the same with me. The first one to speak, squeal or even gasp, is the loser."

   "Sounds fun, let's get it on!"

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