#beaux batons

The first time the twins see you, the Great Hall becomes much more exciting: not just because of the upcoming Triwizard Tournament and their plans to get past Dumbledore's age-line — it was you that had made the room light up, according to Fred and George Weasley.

You stepped through the enormous oak doors of the Great Hall with the rest of the Beauxbatons girls, blue silk catching the candlelight, your posture a little less poised than the other girls; where you were wide-eyed and amazed, your peers seemed off-put by the cold, uninviting stone. There was something different about you that caught their eyes: maybe it was the fact that you didn't look half as enthralled to be there as your peers, but whatever it was, you held the twins' exceptionally short attention spans for a short eternity.

Fred thought he'd noticed you first, eyes glued to you as you followed your classmates through the hall.

“George,” he muttered, elbowing his twin in the ribs without looking away, “I’ve just had a life-changing experience.”

“Well,” George said after a beat, “that’s inconvenient.”

“Why’s that?” Fred looked over to his twin to find that he was already slack-jawed, unblinkingly watching you, too.

“Because I was just about to say the same thing.”

You didn’t notice the pair at first. Hogwarts, though smaller than your own school, was overwhelming in a way Beauxbatons wasn't: louder, messier, more alive. You liked it immediately, though your classmates often turned their noses up at what they perceived to be a lack of order, of regulation. To you, though, life there felt less like a performance and more like a place where things happened.

Of course, you were in awe of the stories you'd heard about Harry Potter, and were keen to find out more about life at Hogwarts. So, your first morning there, you headed up to the castle (alone, because your classmates weren't keen on breakfast after the "vile" dinner) and rushed up the stairs of the Main Entrance. Unfortunately, you were a little too hasty, and you tripped on a loose cobblestone — one that all Hogwarts students knew to avoid.

Your balance tipped as you went flying forward, books threatening to slip out of your arms, but you didn’t hit the ground; you wondered if perhaps this staircase had been the site of so many fatalities that it had been enchanted, but when you looked to where you were being held, you saw that two long arms were supporting you on either side.

“Well now,” a voice to your left mused as you were tilted upright, “enjoy your trip?” Two identical —though admittedly intoxicating — laughs rang out on either side of you.

You glanced from your left to your right: two identically handsome faces towered over you. Two sets of red hair with matching straight, white grins that were bordering on cocky.

You blinked and furrowed your brown. “Did I hit my head...?”

The boy on your right broke into a grin. “Is that the start of a pick-up line?”

"Er— no, it's just that you're—" you paused; their eyebrows raised in amused anticipation." You straightened out quickly, flustered by the lingering hands on your waist, and brushed down your uniform. “Sorry, I didn’t see the step—”

"No one ever does," one said.

"Not until it's too late, anyway. But we saved you on this occasion," the other replied.

You smiled, enjoying the way they ping-ponged conversation between each other. "Identical twins?"

“Fred,” nodded the boy on your left, offering a hand to shake.

“George,” said the one on your right, doing the same. You noticed that his nose was slightly more straight than his brother Fred's, who had a little ski-slope at the end of his.

You hesitated— then shook both of their hands at the same time, one in your left and one in their right.

“Y/N,” you said. “From Beauxbatons.”

“We gathered,” Fred laughed lightly, eyeing your slightly pompous uniform. “Though you don’t quite fit the mold...you're not French, are you?"

You shifted a little uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how stupid the hat looked. "No, my parents sent me there because they work in France, now. I was supposed to come to Hogwarts but we moved."

"Well, that sets you apart. That and the fact you aren't a grumpy prat.”

“Is that a compliment?” You smiled.

“Definitely”, they said in sync.

They started showing up pretty regularly after that— whenever they could, really. At first, it seemed like coincidence: running into them outside the Great Hall; sitting across from them in the library, where they whispering far too loudly to each other, throwing glances your way as if to invite you over; offering commentary on Hogwarts traditions like they were your personal tour guides.

“You’ll find,” George said on one such occasion, walking backward in front of you as you crossed the courtyard, “that Hogwarts has a certain...charm that Beauxbatons lacks.”

“Oh yeah? What's that?” you asked, smiling.

Fred tripped his brother up and joined you at your side, taking your books from your hands. “Us, for starters.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips gave your amusement away. “There are boys in my school, for your information.”

"Yeah, but they're not us," George quipped, dusting himself off and rugby tackling his twin.

They were relentless in a way that should have been annoying. And yet they made you laugh when you didn’t expect it; pulled you into conversations you hadn’t meant to join; treated you like you belonged there— not as a guest, but as a part of their little duo. It was unsettling how quickly you fell into them, and, frankly, a little addictive.

One evening, you found yourself sitting with them by the Black Lake, the sky painted in deep purples and golds.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Fred noted, tossing a stone into the water.

“Am I?” you absentmindedly asked.

"Definitely," George replied, sitting up and brushing a stray hair from your face. "You're usually annoyingly talkative," he joked.

You hesitated, then, softly confessed, “I didn’t expect to like it here this much. I'm worried I'm going to miss it when we go back to France.”

George’s expression softened, just a fraction. “Hogwarts has that effect.”

You shook your head. “No. I mean… I didn’t expect to like the people.”

Fred exchanged a glance with George. “Careful,” he said. “We might start thinking you’re fond of us.”

You looked between them. "And what's wrong with that?" Your stomach flipped a little. “Maybe I am,” you admitted quietly. "Fond of you, I mean."

For once, they didn’t have a clever response ready, they just pulled you back onto the warm grass to lie between their enormous frames.

From then on, you noted their fondness through their actions: George saving you a seat without asking; Fred pretending not to notice when you beat him at Wizard Chess; the pair of them walking you back to where the Beauxbatons carriage was stationed, lingering a little longer than usual before saying goodnight; and, perhaps most importantly, the way they looked at you like they’d decided something about you and them.

The first time your mutual crushes became truly undeniable was during the Yule Ball. You hadn’t planned to go with anyone, but, somehow, you ended up with two dates. Girls around you eyed you enviously at the punch-table, and you stepped backward behind the twins' frames, hiding yourself.

“This feels unfair,” you muttered, smoothing your dress.

“How so?” George asked, adjusting his bowtie.

“Two of you, one of me," you sighed, craning your neck upward to make eye-contact. "Some of the girls don't even have one date, you know? It feels selfish to have two!”

Fred scoffed. “Well, too bad we don't want to go with anyone else.”

"Yeah, their fault for being boring," George joked.

You blushed at the awareness of others' eyes on the three of you, and you hated that the twins could probably see your reddening face.

“Relax,” George said, rolling his eyes and proffering up his left arm.

Fred offered his right arm, mirroring his twin. "Look, you need to be flanked by a Weasley on each side, otherwise you might trip—again." He shot his twin a knowing smile, and you laughed despite yourself as you took an arm in each of your own.