Ginny and I had the perfect summer planned. No parents, no rules, just us, a ton of cute outfits, and plenty of parties. It was going to be epic. But then Fred and George were put in charge, and suddenly, everything was different.
At first, they helped us throw the greatest party the Burrow had ever seen. The music was blaring, the drinks were flowing, and we were living our best lives. But when Mrs. Weasley found out, the situation took a serious turn. She threatened to pull the twins' loan for their joke shop, and just like that, the carefree atmosphere shifted.
"You two need to have some structure this summer," Fred said one night, looking way too serious for my liking. "No sneaking out, no wild parties, and absolutely no mischief unless it's approved by us."
Ginny and I exchanged a horrified look. Approved? What happened to being the fun, devil-may-care twins we knew?
"Approved?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.
Fred nodded, his face full of fake sincerity. "Yeah, we're grown-ups now. Time to think about responsibilities."
Ginny crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. "What happened to the twins?"
I leaned back in my chair. "Yikes."
And is it wrong that I kind of liked Fred being stricter? I wanted to push his limits, see how far I could go.
So, we did what any sensible person would do: we played along-for a while. We acted like perfect little angels, helping out, complimenting the twins, and pretending to love their whole "responsibility" thing. Fred and George ate it up, basking in their role as our guardians.
Then, one night, we executed the ultimate plan. "Ready to make some memories?" I grinned at Ginny.
She winked. "Let's show them what 'responsible' really means."
With a few drinks, music, and the perfect outfits, we were ready to turn the tables. The twins thought they were in charge? Not anymore. This summer was going to be unforgettable-our way. And if we had to sneak around a little, so be it. Fred and George wouldn't know what hit them
SHE'S THE THIRD TWIN-without the red hair or the last name.
Quick-witted, fiercely loyal, and a menace with a wand, Carys Delling has spent six years as Fred and George Weasley's ride-or-die. Detention buddies. Business partners. Chaos co-conspirators. They're the kind of inseparable that makes people wonder how many lines have already been crossed.
But Carys knows the rules. Best friends don't fall in love-especially not with Fred Weasley. Especially not when he's always looking at someone else.
So she keeps the truth buried under jokes and jinxes, pretending her heart doesn't race when he grins at her like she's the only person in the room. She tells herself this is enough. That being by his side, even if he never sees her that way, is worth the ache in her chest.
But feelings don't stay quiet forever. Not when Hogwarts is changing, the future is closing in, and Fred-reckless, brilliant Fred-is starting to look at her a little differently. Like maybe he's been missing something that's been right there all along.
Carys Delling doesn't lose. Not at Quidditch. Not in a prank war. And definitely not at love.
So why does this feel like falling?