#requests completed

You couldn't help yourself seeking him out in any room you entered, or staring across at him in the hall anytime you could. It had been months of this, catching each other's eyes and then it amounting to nothing as soon as you talked, all because of you.

"I don't mean to be!" You say, feeling yourself getting emotional, your hands tightening around the fabric of your jumper.

"Oh! Well as long as you don't mean to be," Fred snarks, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he looks at you with such a fierce look that it makes you cower.

You stutter, trying to think of the right words but failing miserably.

"You intimidate me!"

"A lowly peasant like me intimidates you? Please enlighten me Slytherin Queen how a dirt-poor Gryffindor like me intimidates your majesty."

You recoil then, your hand dropping away from him in shock from his words, realising too late that his true impression of you was much worse than you had believed. A tear begins to form in your left eye and you fight desperately to keep it in, holding yourself together until you could cry in private later.

Even Fred seems to be in shock at the words he'd said, and your reaction that followed. He'd never been remorseful in the entire time that you'd been watching him but right now you could see a brief hint of it in his eyes.

You take a deep breath in preparation to lay all your cards on the table, preparing yourself for the hardest rejection of your life and for the mocking that would certainly follow. But there was no way to get out of this situation without losing him completely, and if you'd been honest, forced yourself to not go on the defensive, atleast you could say you'd tried.

"You scare me because I like you, really like you," you say, forcing yourself to keep eye contact even though you're desperate to turn away. Your voice is filled with emotion and your eyes water slightly from the effort and the humiliation you faced.

"You're so funny and so bloody hot, my brain melts anytime you try to talk to me and it's so embarrassing that I just shut down. I never mean to be mean or rude, especially not to you. I just don't know what to do with these feelings, especially as it's you and there's no way you would ever want me. I'm just terrified of you thinking I was an idiot."

Silence.

"I've never thought you were an idiot," he says quietly in reply, following a few moments of incredibly tense and awkward silence that makes you want to cry even more. You look up at him with an expression even you can't place, slightly mortified by your delivery of the confession.

"I'm sorry," you say, though you're not certain exactly which bit you were apologising for. "I'm sorry for making things awkward and for making a fool of myself, I shouldn't have told you how I felt and especially not like this but you have to know that I'm not rude or mean or just another stuck up Slytherin. I don't care about money or status or house, I've never once looked at you and thought you were anything less than amazing. I don't care if you aren't rolling in it because all I see when I look at you is you. I just like you so much that it makes me crazy!"

You didn't even have time to take a breath before his lips crash into yours, his hands reaching for you instinctively and holding you firmly to him. His right hand is grabbing your waist, pinning you to him whilst his left cradles the back of your head. His lips are wild against yours, passionate and dominating as he kisses you with such enthusiasm that it makes your knees weak. Your only hands cling onto him like you would fall without his support and slip onto the collar of his shirt, matching the passion in the kiss. His tongue sneaks out to lip at your lip and you part your lips without a single moment of hesitation, forcing yourself to hold back a moan as his tongue tangled with yours, caressing and teasing. Your right hand pulls away from his collar and slips onto his jaw, feeling the sharpness of his manly jaw and the strong column of his neck. He slowly begins to pull away and you loosen your grip on him, though he pulls you back for one more sweeter kiss, like he isn't ready to part with you yet.

You're breathless and panting as you pull away, your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. He's looking down at you with glassy eyes and the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, especially as he notices your chest heaving from your deep breaths.

"See, if you'd just said that the first time, we could have been doing that all along," he smirks.

"You, you like me back?" You ask, cringing at how pathetic you sounded. He lets out an incredulous laugh, looking at you with complete disbelief.

"I don't just go round snogging random girls I don't like you know," he says, reaching out and pulling you back into his chest. "So, just incase I wasn't clear enough."

He reaches down to cup your chin and raise your face towards him before he kisses your forehead.

"I like you."

He kisses your nose.

"I really like you."

He kisses your lips away, lingering a little longer.

"I really, really like you, only you."

You kiss him this time, pulling him down by the tie until you can meet in the middle, ending the kiss with a playful bite of his bottom lip.

"Can I be mean again now?" You ask, smiling cheekily at him, watching his own smirk grow as he chuckles.

"Yeah I'm kind of missing it already," he smirks, "just as long as you kiss me that sweetly all the time."

"Can I walk with you?" Nick Alas says suddenly from behind you, making you jump out of your skin.

"Sure," you say shakily, trying to recover from your scare. He neither apologises nor comments on giving you a fright and you fall in step with him as you walk, thinking instantly how awkward it was as neither of you spoke. You wished that you'd agreed to meet Alicia to walk to class, resigning yourself to his company today. Tomorrow you'd ask her. He shot you glances every now and then but barely said a word, something about his demeanour making you uncomfortable.

Nick Alas was a creep, nothing more and nothing less. He'd tried many times to talk to you and even on your most agreeable day, you found him off putting and creepy, his entire being setting you on edge. There had been a few times over the years that he'd tried to get you alone and had been much too over friendly, even asking you out once or twice in a roundabout way.

"Been together long?" He asks, trying to appear casual. "You and that Weasley."

"Oh um, about two years," you say, suddenly feeling very awkward sharing this with him.

"That's young," he says in reply, a sharp tone to his voice that makes you question his motives. He's clearly far from impressed by your answer, his pompous looking face scrunching up into a distasteful frown.

"Can't help falling in love can you," you say dismissively, wishing the History classroom wasn't so bloody far away.

"So you love him?" He asks, forcing you to send him a clear look of bewilderment at his obnoxious question, offering no reply to his probing question.

"I've never had a girlfriend," he says without prompting, stepping infront of you to avoid the passing students in the tight corridor.

"Really?" You ask, acting outrageously surprised when in fact you were far, far from surprised by his admission. "I'm assuming not by your own choice."

"What?" He asks, not having heard you.

"Thanks for the walk," you say, approaching the history door and lurching it open, done with his strange behaviour. You find Alicia immediately and give her a look of exasperation as she clocks the bloke behind you, stuffing her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle at your obvious displeasure.

"How funny we've been set as partners," Nick says, sliding into the now vacant seat beside you, again to your great displeasure. It was funny, a little too coincidental if you were honest.

"Completely off topic, how good are you at the Imperius Charm?" You say blankly, barely looking up except to study Professor Binns for any sign of enchantment, if ghosts could even be enchanted.

"What? I've never," he begins to say, only for you to cut him off with a disinterested 'never mind'.

"Y/n, y/n?" You hear from behind your place at the dinner table, the great hall filled with students tucking into their last meal of the day.

You fight the urge to groan once you realise who the voice belongs to. Alicia catches on immediately from across the table, stifling another giggle into her hand as she sees your face drop and the boy behind you so insistent on getting your attention.

"Can I borrow you?" He asks, standing rigid behind your place at the table, waiting for you.

"She's eating mate, not a good idea to come between a woman and her food," George says from beside you, whilst Fred remains quiet, simply looking harshly at the pathetic looking boy trying to get your attention.

"Noted," he replies, barely casting a glance to George as he replies, which you immediately clock as the height of rudeness. "Y/n?" He urges once more.

You finally turn and see his eyes momentarily flick down to your legs, specifically to where Fred's hand is still resting and very obviously, you assume to wordlessly mark his territory.

"I've had a brilliant idea for our project, something a little off the cuff," he smiles proudly at himself.

You sigh in resignation and look towards Fred who looks unhappy to say the least but gives you a silent look which says 'fine', before his glare hardens once again when he looks at Nick.

"Tonight?" You say quickly, pressing your hand onto his shoulder.

"Got to check the inventions after curfew," he whispers with a nod, which you immediately understand his meaning before saying bye to your friends.

"Here try this, it will keep you awake," Nick says after your latest yawn, the many in great succession due to the lateness. He pulls out a little hip flask out of his bag and hands it to you, unscrewing the lid for you. It's an oddly shaped flask covered in a sort of leather wrap engraved with his initials across the from.

"Dragon skin," he says smugly, as if preempting your next question, which definitely was not what material you were holding.

"What's in it?" You ask, looking down the neck at the liquid below, trying to place it.

"It's a very weak caffeine brew, almost akin to tea, perfectly safe, just perks you up a little for the late night study sessions," he gives you a sickly sweet smile which seems to make you instantly uncomfortable. "Smell it, it's delicious."

Against your better judgement, you lean down and smell the mixture in the hip flask.

Immediately you're hit with the most delicious scent to ever grace your nostrils. It's alluringly sweet and absolutely mouth watering, drawing you in with a familiarity that it makes you want to drink every last drop.

"Drink," he prompts, his eyes urging you on.

"There's no goblet," you say, looking around for a drinking vessel of sorts, imagining nothing worse than placing your lips where his had inevitably been.

"Mmmm," you say as you take a sip, so loudly that he'd undoubtedly hear your little moan, not that you cared if he heard in the circumstances.

You watch as his head whips around to look at you, stopping his quest for a vessel as you'd already been so entranced by the scent you no longer felt the need for a goblet and drank straight from the source.

"Good?" He asks, his eyes burning a hole in your face. You nod with a smile, your eyes blinking a few times.

"What does it taste like?" He asks, moving forward in his seat ever so slightly to shift closer to you.

"Heaven," you say in reply, a contented smile plastered on your face as you slowly feel your mind shift and your eyes glaze, though you're far from concerned at that moment, feeling a sort of peace and excitement all at the same time.

He sends you a rather intense smile that would usually freak you out but instead you show nothing but your calm nature, suddenly showing an interest in your partner that you hadn't previously.

You begin asking insightful questions about him, wanting to focus only on the boy in front of you, even shifting closer in your seat towards him.

"Maybe we can leave the work until tomorrow," he sneers, his eyes ghosting around the entirety of your body and focusing specifically on your breasts almost unashamedly. You simply shift closer to him, looking around the room tentatively before reaching over to grab your book from the table.

"I think I should go to bed, but I don't want to leave you," you say with a soft smile, your eyes chasing his. His eyes widen very briefly before the smile erupts from his face, his hand reaching out for your knee.

"We can carry on in the morning, straight after potions. I'll walk you to your dorm, make sure you get there safely."

"It's only up the stairs," you giggle girlishly, nudging him with your shoulder, knowing that you were only in the deserted common room.

"Still, better to be safe," he says, looking at you with a look you can't place, his eyes looking entirely devoted.

You nod and stand to move, giggling slightly as you grab your bag from the floor and place your books into it. His hand rests on the curve of your back as you walk up the stairs and predictably you can feel his eyes on your behind as you walk, your skirt swishing with the effort. He stops outside of your door and you look up at him with a shy smile, thanking him for walking you back safely, despite there being no one around. He suddenly begins to try and kiss you, but you shift back slightly with a girlish giggle pouring out of you.

"No kiss without a date," you say seductively, trying to keep him sweet on you as you look towards him.

He seems shocked for a moment and then smiles, reaching out for your shoulder.

"How about I walk you to breakfast in the morning? We can call that a date then."

"Perfect, night Nick," you say with a smile, bidding him goodnight as you step inside the door.

The next morning, he's already waiting for you to step out of the dorm room, so much so that you nearly collide upon opening the door.

"Good morning, you look nice," he says, focusing less on your face and more on your breasts, openly ogling you. "Here, a little pick me up before breakfast."

He hands you his flask and prompts you to take another swig, which you do.

"Mmm, I swear it's nicer than it was yesterday," you giggle, joining him in step on your walk to the common room.

"Oops!" You say as you spill a little on your school jumper, your face stricken at seeing the mess. "Oh no my jumper! Do you have a jumper I can borrow? Yours would be really comfy I bet," you say with a blush. He freezes for a second before snapping into action.

"Of course, follow me," he says with a smile, reaching to place his hand on your lower back as you move towards the boys dorm rooms, your eyes glancing down the corridor to try and guess which one his room is.

"This is my humble abode," he says as he steps into a large room that is so tidy and clinical that it looks regimented, with hardly a thing out of place.

"You have a dorm all to yourself?" You ask in wonder, looking around at the considerable lack of beds.

"Yes actually," he smiles, gesturing for you to take a seat on his bed. "My roommate Kenneth moved out a little while ago on account of the hideous boils he broke out with."

He digs through his drawers whilst you look around, spotting a singular outlier in his room, the one patch of mess you could see, immediately intrigued.

"Here you go, I hope this covers your wondrous curves," he grins, holding out his jumper for you. You raise it to your nose unapologetically and smile with a light giggle before pulling off your school jumper and replacing it with his. He never takes his eyes off you and you can tell, shying away slightly from his peeking eyes. You stuff your jumper in your bag and smile, ready for breakfast.

"I actually prepared something, I hope you enjoy it. Follow me."

You follow him down to the potions corridor without speaking, keeping close to him and hardly looking away. When you read the corridor you see a few breakfast items laid out onto the stone ledges, low enough for you to perch on. Two goblets of pumpkin juice had been laid out and a handful of different pastries though it was hard to see from the hardly-illuminated corridor, entirely void of windows or any natural light.

"Thank you Nick, this is wonderful," you say happily, moving to sit down excitedly on the ledge, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you in close proximity.

"Have you thought anymore on our project?" He asks, biting into a pastry whilst pushing your goblet of pumpkin juice towards you.

"No, my mind has been a little occupied," you answer honestly with a blush, a shy smile forming as you reach for your goblet. He smiles back, the crumbs around his mouth falling off with the movement and you watch as they tumble down onto his school jumper below.

Soon enough, it's almost time for class and with an impressive flourish of his wand, the cups are cleared away. You look at him in amazement and he smugly smiles at your silent praise, before looking over your head and the smile slips right off his face.

"Weasley," he says with a curt nod from over your shoulder.

"Love," you hear someone say from behind you, their hand reaching out for your arm after you didn't turn in the slightest towards the person joining you and Nick.

"Umm George is it?" You ask upon turning, looking between the two identical twins, one standing forward just in front of you and the other set slightly back.

"What?" He says in wonder, his face scrunching up unpleasantly, your words clearly having an effect on him.

"Sorry you look the same to me," you say with a slight giggle, a pink blush spreading across your cheeks at the slight awkwardness.

"You really can't tell which one your boyfriend is?" He asks angrily, suddenly grabbing your wrist.

"Boyfriend?! I've barely ever spoken to you! Look George, just leave me and Nick alone okay, we don't want any trouble."

You feel breathless, your heart pounding as you manage to pull your arm from his grasp, ignoring his strong look of hurt as he looks down at you from his towering height, an issue you didn't have with Nick.

He doesn't even look at Nick as he marches into the classroom closely followed by his glaring twin, Fred was it? But you try to pay it no mind, especially not his pain filled eyes as he looked at you. Did he have you confused?

You step into the potions classroom with Nick and choose to sit by him, awaiting Snape with a nervous energy filling your entire body. You can feel the Weasley twins' stares upon you throughout the entire first half of the lesson, their eyes figuratively burning holes through your skin. The feeling of being watched never left and you tried to ignore it as you focused on your seat mate, watching him closely and sharing little glances when you could. He was glowing under the attention you were giving him, smug with himself that he had you looking at him so adoringly.

“Bloody Weasley,” Nick mumbles under his breath, catching his eye once again as he apparently looks at you.

“He’s just curious,” you say, leaning on your hand whilst you look at your new partner.

“How do you mean?” He asks, eyeing you from his peripheral vision.

“He’s curious why his girlfriend is pretending to be obsessed with you.”

“What?” He asks, suddenly bewildered as all pretence of your admiration dissipated in seconds, no longer having to pretend to be under the spell of the love potion. Your eyes are harsh and unforgiving as you look at his with pure disgust and a hint of smugness at managing to deceive him.

"Maybe if you had brewed the potion correctly I wouldn’t have had to pretend."

"What?" He repeats in astonishment, his eyes suddenly widening in horror.

"Amortentia is almost undetectable when brewed using powdered moonstone. Pearl dust is what gives it the scent only known to the receiver. If you'd just used moonstone I probably wouldn't have known by the smell."

"But you said!"

"That is smelled like heaven?" You laugh, dropping every bit of lingering dramatics. "You mean toasted marshmallow, pumpkin and whizzbang smoke? Funny how your caffeine brew smelt exactly like my boyfriend."

He's speechless, looking at you in bewilderment that you had deceived him all along, knowing that he'd tried to drug you with Amortentia right from the beginning.

"Professor!" You call, holding out the hip flask. "I think I've found your thief."

Snape marches over with an furious gait, his cloak swishing behind his fast footsteps until he stands before your bench and snatches the hipflask out of your hand. He brings it to his long crooked nose and takes a vague sniff, his face scrunching further in disgust as he recognises the potion immediately and what it means for his personal stock, until his eyes travel down to the flask, eyeing the initials so proudly displayed on the front. His thunderous eyes meet those of your seat mate and glare with a look so ferocious it momentarily makes you freeze.

"Mr Alas, I recommend you gather your personal effects, though I'm certain you won't be needing them much longer. I shall take you to the headmasters office myself."

"Professor," he begins to plead, but it's a foolish endeavour, rendered silent only moments later as Snape's gaze doubles down, practically slicing him to the core.

He's escorted out of the classroom by the Professor immediately, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind them. The previously silent classroom erupts into whispers and chatter, all of which focused on the events that had just taken place and the surprising nature. Fred runs over to you, followed by George and pulls you into the tightest embrace he can, his lips on yours almost instantly.

"You were brilliant love, my clever, clever girl," he says with a smirk as he holds you. You melt into his embrace, consumed by the need to be close to him again, the last 24 hours being so painfully hard to be away from him like this.

"You deserve a medal for that one," George says, pulling you out of Fred's grasp and lurching you forward into an embrace.

"I've deserved a medal for ages," you snark, your voice slightly distorted by your face being so tightly pressed up against George's chest.

"And a shower, good Godric he was slimy."

"Did he try?" Fred says, his smirk fading as he thinks of what could have happened.

"No, well try yes but he didn't get anywhere," you say, expelling his fears. "Just being close to him was enough to make me want to peel my skin off."

"At least she's loyal mate," George jokes, nudging Fred, both of them chuckling.

"Which reminds me," you say, pushing away slightly and instantly removing your jumper, pulling away from you and throwing it far away. There's a wolf whistle somewhere in the classroom and you simply raise your middle finger in the vague direction before reaching down into your bag to pull out your own jumper. "Spilled some of his potion down me earlier."

"Bastard!" You say as you look at your previously stained jumper.

"What?" Both twins say in alarm. You lift up your school jumper to show them exactly what you could see, holding it right in front of your face. Unfortunately, even with the jumper right in front of your face you could still see the twins through the gaping hole in your jumper, the potion having eroded the fabric where it had spilt.

"Bloody hell," Fred says, eyes wide in horror as he looks at the spot where he can see straight through your completely unwearable jumper.

"Fancy getting out of here?" You say, knowing Snape would not be back before the end of class. They both nod and you gather your things, walking directly to the boys dorm, listening intently at the whispers already circulating around school.

"Can't believe you pulled that off, I'd have topped myself having to pretend to like that slimy git," George says as he plonks himself down on his bed whilst you sit on Fred's crossed legged, having toed of your shoes and pulling down on your skirt to keep from flashing George.

"Honestly he was gross," you say with a shudder.

"And thick," Fred adds, jumping onto his bed beside you.

"How did you know we'd see you last night? You could have just come here," George says, adding a snarky. "You're usually always here."

You throw a pillow at his face, earning a blast of laughter from your boyfriend as the pillow hits him square in the face.

"He walked me back to my dorm, wouldn't take no for an answer, reckon he was trying to keep me away from Fred when the potion would be wearing off," you say, "well he walked me back to a dorm, but it wasn't mine. I wasn't gonna let that creep know where I slept."

The twins chuckle and you join them, all at Nick's expense.

"Figured you would check the map before sneaking out to check your potions after curfew, just like you said, and you'd see me at the black lake and come find me, then I could tell you everything."

"Dangerous for you to go alone though sweet girl, especially not having the map. Anyone could have seen you."

"Hence why I borrowed Harry's cloak," you smirk, not having told them that part of the story. Reminding you that you would have to give it back to  Harry this afternoon.

"Godric I love you," Fred says with a chuckle at your level of mischief.

"I think I do too," George chuckles, laughing more when Fred glares at him.

"Oh there is something else," you say, throwing yourself off the bed and reaching down into your bag. You rifle around for a second, trying to locate what you'd put there only this morning, smiling as you grab it.

You place the little vial into Fred's hand, the glow of the Pearl dust shining all on its owl.

"How did you?!" They both begin to ask at the same time, amazed that you had it.

"Stupid git left his little potion brewing equipment out, right under his bed. I nabbed it when he went to get me a new jumper because I'm just sooo clumsy, figured that but you'd stolen from Snape would be accounted for after Nick was caught."

They laugh and Fred pushes you down onto the bed again, his body covering yours as he kisses you passionately.

"Happy brewing boys," you smirk, pulling away with a smile, before sitting up straight in bed with a gasp.

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

"His name was Nick Alas!" You begin to burst out in laughter, hunched over yourself whilst the twins look on in confusion. "Nickalas! Like Nicholas! Poor bastard."

The common room was a blaze with celebration, Harry’s victory in joint first place of the first task had been wildly celebrated by each and every Gryffindor and even Ron had joined in after being such a miserable git for a month. But even with the chaos and jubilant celebration around him, as well as a decent profit they’d made on taking the bets during the task, Fred was not in the mood for a party.

Despite it being the end of November, Fred’s striped jumper and beige overcoat suddenly felt like they were suffocating him as he stared at the corner where McLaggen leaned suggestively ogling his girlfriend, reaching out to touch her arm and shifting ever closer to where she stood. He was getting hotter by the second, burning up with anger and jealousy as he looked in disgust at the slimy sod. Who did he think he was to be stood so close to Fred’s girl? They’d been together years, it was hardly like nobody knew that she was his.

But then he heard your girlish giggle and his blood seemed to run cold. You were openly laughing with him, playing with a strand of your hair and making no move to shut down his advances.

He’d had enough and was just ready to march over and make Cormac choke down a puking pastille when he watched you take off your coat, throwing it over the chair behind you and taking a step back to avoid Cormac’s over familiar hands as they reached out for you again. Fred’s heart pounded as he looked at what you were wearing so proudly, his quidditch jumper with his surname displayed right across the back. He remembered now how you’d complained of being cold just before you left to view the task and he’d nipped up to his dorm to retrieve a warm jumper for you. He knew it wasn’t the nicest sweater, there was a hole in the left armpit that had been stitched back together with a completely different coloured thread and a great big pull in the fabric on the right sleeve but you’d worn it with pride. Your face had lit up when he held it out to you and you’d tried to sneakily smell it with a cute smile before you threw it over your head, tying up your hair so you could show off his surname now displayed across your back.

Watching you now, he realised how wrong he’d been. You were inching away from McLaggen, body turned away and looking for any sign of escape, the fingers in your hair a simple mechanism to block him from reaching out to you.

Fred was on his feet in seconds, almost trampling a load of first years who were sat in the pathway as he stalked over to where you were standing, his eyes fixed upon the letters across your back.

“Weasley,” he whispers in your ear as a greeting, immediately stepping behind you and placing his hand on the curve of your bum. You jump slightly at the sudden intrusion but recover quickly as you realise it’s him behind you. Fred watched as a smirk blossomed across your face as you realised, pressing your hips back just slightly as a form of acknowledgment, backing up into his hand which he squeezed, getting a good grip of your bum.

“This looks very good on you,” he whispers again into your ear, bending down just enough so that only you could hear how deep and breathy his voice had become. He reaches out with his left hand to glide it over your hip to your waist, tugging on the fabric of the jumper just enough that you’d understand exactly what he meant.

“The jumper or the name?” You smirk, earning another squeeze of your bum for your cheekiness, both of you openly ignoring McLaggen who is still trying to talk to you.

“Both,” Fred smirks, the tip of his nose catching on your hair, his lips moving dangerously closely to the smooth skin of your neck.

“If you don’t mind McLaggen, me and the Mrs have business to attend to,” Fred says suddenly, not even looking at Cormac who briefly considers if he does mind or not, mouth opening as if he is about to protest.

Fred doesn’t even give him a chance and simply throws his right arm around your shoulders and pulls you away with a shit eating grin on his face. His hand slips back towards your bum as you’re walking away, his hand slipping into your jeans pocket as he pulls you close to him, asserting his place. He can’t help but smirk as he directs you towards the stairs to the dorms, knowing that Cormac is still watching the pair of you and he takes a sick pleasure in knowing the last thing McLaggen will see of you tonight is Fred’s hand in your jeans as he takes you to his dorm; with his surname plastered in large letters across your back. The same surname that will be yours in just a couple of years, if Fred gets his way.

Maybe he should invite Cormac to the wedding.

Always together and synonymous with trouble, the two Gryffindor students had tested your patients for over a year now, always pushing their luck and thinking the rules didn't apply to them. George was moderately more quiet than his counterpart and much more agreeable. Fred however was a constant pain in your side that you couldn't budge, though you weren't sure you actually wanted to be rid of him. He was gorgeous, naturally, and the playful back and forth you'd developed over the years had become surprisingly fun for you, even if it did sound harsh to less cultured ears. He was insufferable and incorrigible, arrogant at times and always immature, but there was something about him that always seemed to redeem his character. He was funny, most of the time, and you found his non-caring nature surprisingly endearing, knowing that he didn't care what people thought about him as long as he made them laugh. Life wasn't made to be taken seriously to him and you respected that, sometimes wishing that you lived a little more in his way.

You were a fair prefect, or so you thought. Definitely not as cut throat and power hungry as some, but also not a pushover when it came to rules that ensured safety and well-being. You'd turned a blind eye to the Weasley twins too many times, in their smaller misdemeanours anyway, choosing to look aside when it had no serious impact upon the school or other students.

"Hey perfect," Fred smirks as he strides past you in the corridor, five minutes before curfew and certainly not walking back to the common room.

"It's prefect, idiot," you scold, though you can barely conceal the smile threatening to erupt, your words carrying no malice.

"No. I was right the first time," he beams, turning on his heel to flash a smile at you.

"You know what time it is don't you."

"Why, lost your watch, perfect girl?" He calls over his shoulder, mildly colliding with his surprisingly silent twin as he doesn't watch where he's going.

"Boys!" You call out, using your big girl voice.

Both of them pause, turning slowly to look at you with looks that you're certain would break your resilience on any other night.

"Men, I think you'll find," George calls out, suddenly finding his voice.

"Yeah sure," you mock, walking closer to them with a judgemental eyebrow raised.

"I can prove it, if you want-" Fred begins to say, his eyebrows wiggling as he reaches for the zip on his school trousers. You scrunch up your face and hold up your hand to stop him going any further.

"Don't bother, I don't have my magnifying glass with me."

The laugh that tumbles onto of George sounds like a bark and echoes through the otherwise empty hallway, making you smile. Fred, now blushing a magnificent shade of fuchsia, mutters under his breath and nudges his twin hard in the arm in a wee attempt to shut him up, not that it works.

"Well how about this... I'm offering right here right now, I'll sort out those knickers of yours that you've gotten in a twist," Fred grins, jokingly wiggling his eyebrows.

"Can we not do this tonight? I have somewhere to be, can you just do this another night?" You say, trying to show your annoyance.

"Big date eh?" George says with a wink, his arms crossing in front of him as if he's studying you. Fred by comparison remains silent, his face twisting into a frown of displeasure for whatever reason.

"None of your business," you snark, turning to look between the two. "Any chance we can wrap this up easily?"

"Depends," Fred says, suddenly coming to life again. You sigh, knowing that it was a stupid idea to even try. "What are you going to do for us?"

His shit eating grin and crossed arms are the last straw, knowing that he would never give up so easily.

"You know what, just go," you say, averting your eyes. "I don't have time for this."

"They will do nothing of the sort," Professor Mcgonagall says, surprising all three of you as she steps around the corner, catching you all in the act. Your stomach drops, wishing you were anywhere but here right now, especially with these two.

"Professor," you try to say, scrambling to find the words but she merely raises her hand to silence you, giving you a look that tells you it's a pointless endeavour to even try and appeal the inevitable.

"Weasley and Weasley, you appear to be much too far away from your dormitory considering the curfew was five minutes ago, explain yourselves." She gives them both a fierce look which only deepens when Fred's cheeky reply does not excuse his rule breaking.

"And you Miss y/l/n, I expected better from you, a Gryffindor Prefect nonetheless. Perhaps we should be re-thinking that badge of yours if you're allowing this on your watch."

"Professor please-." Your eyes widen, panic taking over you at her words. Would she really strip you of your rank for a single misdemeanour?

"It wasn't her fault Professor," Fred says quickly, your eyes shooting to him in surprise at his leap to your defence. Never once had Fred Weasley stuck up for anyone like this.

"All of you will receive a week's Detention with Professor Flitwick, starting tomorrow, perhaps then you can consider your places at this school," her gaze turns towards you, "all of you."

"Professor!"

Tears begin to form in your eyes as her punishment is given. You'd never once received detention in all your years at the school. Never had anything less than a perfect record that would now be blighted by this. You were angry, upset, ashamed. Your gut ached, stomach sinking so far down that you felt like it was going to fall out of you. Your breath was getting harder and harder to catch, the very thought of your parents receiving a letter of your misdemeanours enough to trigger a full blown panic attack for you.

"Y/n isn't to blame, it was me and George," Fred says, stepping forward to block Mcgonagall from exiting as you stand still, unable to look anyone in the eye.

You feel George's eyes upon you but you don't look up, the sound of Fred's haggling with the professor fading into the background as you accept defeat and retreat back to the common room where you could cry in the privacy of your dorm. You don't offer a goodbye to either of the twins but simply disappear instead, too upset and angry.

You spend the entire night in a foul mood, swinging like a pendulum between tearful and angry, settling somewhere around disgruntled. Your anger was entirely directed towards the twins, mainly Fred like normal for their idiocy and complete lack of foresight on how their actions affected anyone but themselves. You'd cancelled your plans and your mood has spoiled a perfectly good night ahead of you.

Stepping into Flitwick's classroom after classes the next day felt more akin to torture than punishment, especially since you'd be spending the next hour with the twins. You'd never had detention before and spent the entire day in an anxious mess of what was to come.

To your surprise the twins were already inside when you stepped into the classroom, though you didn't interact with them at all, not even sparing a single look. Professor Flitwick had given you the instructions of what you were to do during the hour, which mainly consisted of organising the classroom and tidying up after the first year class that clearly had not perfected the levitation charm yet due to the sheer number of spills on the stone floor. Magic was not allowed to be used during the detention and your wands were confiscated by Flitwick in his desk, which only further disgruntled you.

You ignored both of the twins the entire time, choosing to be the opposite side of the classroom at all times in the hopes you could just get it over with. Luckily for you, neither of them attempted to talk to you either and gave you space, surprisingly.

"See you tomorrow Perfect girl," Fred had said when the hour had ended as he walked out of the classroom. Momentarily forgetting yourself, you look up at his words, catching his eye briefly before you dropped your gaze and sighed.

The next day passed quickly and before you knew it, you were in Flitwick's classroom again for detention which passed surprisingly quickly. You could feel the twins gazes on you much more than the previous day, with a few attempts to make contact but you didn't bite. You left as soon as Flitwick dismissed you without ever looking back at the pair.

Wednesday's classes dragged, the day seeming to never end. You'd dragged yourself over to Charms relatively late, but this time the twins were nowhere to be seen.

"Your wand please miss," Flitwick says with an outstretched hand, which you place your wand into with a polite but brief smile. You take a seat awaiting your instructions and the others, a deep sigh escaping you at their apparent disregard of all rules.

"Mr Weasley, nice of you to join us, though you seem to be missing your counterpart."

You look up at Flitwick's words questioningly, silently praying that if there's only one of them that it's George. No such luck. Fred steps forward, handing Professor Flitwick a note that he accepts without question and gestures for Fred to take a seat beside you in the cramped desks after giving up his wand.

"Tonight you'll be working together, I must leave to attend to something else but I will be back before the hours out. I hear from professor McGonagall that you are in this predicament due to crossed wires hmm? Perhaps we should straighten those out. Tonight I would like for you each to write me a few chapters on the other person. I shall accept nothing but insightful ideas and knowledge of the other, this means understanding their character and their methods. Perhaps by understanding one another we can prevent future misdemeanours and thus avoid further punishment. Three chapters minimum, all by personal quill so I will know if guidelines have been broken."

Flitwick scurries away after giving his instructions and you remain silent, gobsmacked by his words. Why in Godric's name would you want to understand Fred Weasley's inner thoughts? Aside from George, probably no one else could. You didn't want insight into his inner workings nor his character and you sure as hell didn't want him poking around in your mind. So much for keeping a distance.

"21 questions? Perhaps we could play a game of truth or dare? Kiss and tell?" He says from side you, the teasing lilt to his voice so profound you could almost feel his smirk through his words.

"Nice one," you reply in a deadpan fashion, "as if you're interesting enough for three chapters. Player of stupid pranks, beater on the quidditch team and identical twin. Groundbreaking. Wow, maybe I can stretch those out over three chapters."

You huff, sliding down into your seat as you pick at the threads of your school jumper, wishing you were just organising labels again.

"Ouch," Fred replies, reaching for his chest like you'd cast a spell directly at his heart, "think you've got me covered with that perfect girl? And it's creator of pranks, not just the player of."

"You created those?" You ask with a tone of bewilderment, ignoring his teasing snipes and finally looking up to him for the first time in days. His hair seems longer today, with a little flick around his right ear where it fans out slightly.

"Yeah me and George create most of our own stuff."

"Oh," you say quietly, your eyes flicking down to your empty sheet of parchment. "Well, they're really good."

He snorts and you can understand why, having done nothing but hate on his and George's pranks since you became a prefect, actively trying to block him at times.

"I'm serious," you say somewhat nervously, suddenly feeling urgent in your affirmations. "That's really impressive magic, I had no idea."

"Hmm."

There's a shift between the two of you, hardly noticeable to the untrained eye and yet the tension seems to have lessened considerably allowing an awkwardness to settle.

"So other than academic, beautiful and apparently impressed by pyrotechnic creation, what should I write for you?" Fred says, breaking the lingering silence as he twirls his quill around his fingers. You chuckle at his words, the teasing lilt returning to his voice.

"One out of three Weasley, dealers choice which," you laugh with a shake of your head at his words.he scoffs and you shoot him a look, raising your eyebrow slightly as if to implore him.

"You seriously don't think you're beautiful?"

You frown at his words, seeing the bewildered look in his face, his bottom lip tucked slightly between his teeth as he fights back a smirk.

"Yes very good, next," you roll your eyes.

"You're serious aren't you?" He asks, still giving you the same look. "You really don't see yourself very clearly do you?"

You're silent for a moment, considering his words. Had he just actually complimented you or was it just the punchline to some obscene joke that would come later? Regardless, you simply shrugged, absently tapping your quill against the page a few times.

"So, I haven't had the chance to actually apologise for all of this," he says softly, his gaze upon your face. "I, we, never meant to get you in trouble."

"It's okay," you say weakly with another shrug, feelings of hatred and anger about the situation having long since faded.

"I'm not," he presses, reading out for your hand and grabbing it in his much larger hand. "I hated seeing how upset you were because of me, hadn't realised how much I loved our little back and forth until you froze me out."

You look up to him in surprise, expecting his smug little smirk but instead you find a neutral expression and honest eyes. You're quiet for a few moments, unsure of what to say and consumed by the warmth radiating from his hand into yours.

"I'd never had a detention before," you admit quietly, feeling a little silly considering you were saying that to one half of the duo that had probably spent more time in detentions than in class.

"Really? Now I feel even worse."

"Don't," you say quickly, "I just never wanted to get a letter sent home."

"Strict parents?"

You snort, realising that didn't even cover it but instead nodded, keeping your gaze fixed away from his.

"You know detentions aren't actually that bad," he says, understanding that you weren't going to elaborate further on the matter. You look up questioningly at him, your eyes squinting slightly.

"When you have good company," he adds, his classic smirk returning to his face. You laugh, nudging him in the shoulder as you pull your hand away and reach to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Fred suddenly picks up his long forgotten parchment and reaches for the pot of ink in the nook of the desk, setting it between you both.

"Right, perfect girl, we have 20 minutes to do the work, ask me anything."

"Well I am pleasantly surprised," Flitwick says upon his return as he reads through the essays you have written about each other. Somehow you'd each filled the page with notes of each other's past and futures, hopes and dreams, family and so on. It had been an eye opening conversation and somehow knowing more about Fred Weasley made him even more endearing.

"You may both be dismissed, there will be no further detentions this week as I feel this matter is now resolved, hmm?"

Stepping out of the class, you suddenly feel slightly awkward around Fred, the tension and the ice now seemingly broken. Fred however, didn't seem to share in your awkwardness and had flung his arm around your shoulders the second you'd received your wands back from Flitwick, flashing you a brilliant smile.

"Well, perfect girl, did you want to keep your paper on me? Maybe you can frame it when I'm successful, or keep it locked away in your bedside table or on a shrine?"

"Shove off Weasley," you snark back, smiling widely at his ridiculous words.

"Well I'm keeping mine, might need it for reference when I'm writing our wedding vows." His smile is so wide, and perfect as he reaches for the paper in your hands and pocketing it.

"Now I now you've definitely been hexed."

"I am surprised though," he says, removing his arm from your shoulders to reach for your hand. Electricity zaps through your body at his touch, the suddenly familiar and yet foreign intimacy filling you with warmth.

"Surprised? About what?" You ask, looking up to him.

"About what was written on the back of your paper."

"What? I didn't write anything on the back of my paper?" You say in confusion, brows knitting together.

"No?" He smirks, reaching in his pocket for the paper and pulls it out, handing it to you.

You drop his hand, turning it over in your hand to see the back.

"There's nothing-." You begin to say until words begin to appear in black ink, letter by letter. It looks like an ink flood at first until the splotches of ink disperse and settle into Fred's perfectly messy handwriting.

Will you go to Yule Ball with me?

You look back at Fred with wide eyes, amazed both at the proposal and his ability to enchant the paper without you noticing.

"I've been calling you perfect for years, let me prove to you that it's exactly how I see you." He says, stepping closer and taking your slightly shaky hand in his, his wide sparkling eyes looking in to yours.

"Of course I'll go with you," you beam up at him, watching the way his shoulders relax at your acceptance, his entire face lighting up with your words.

To say people were shocked when the gossip spread around that Fred Weasley had asked the Gryffindor prefect to the Yule Ball was an understatement. Whispers circulated following the pair of them wherever they went, but it only seemed to fuel the fire between them, their banter on heightening with a captive audience.

If the Yule Ball proposal had been a shock to the masses then the kiss they shared that night in the centre of the dance floor with everyone around them was enough to render the gossipers catatonic. The first of many kisses.

The only person who was not shocked by any of it was George Weasley, the sneaky enabler who had feigned a Quidditch injury on detention night that had cost him missing half a match and spending the night in the infirmity with Madame Pomfrey faffing around him at all hours. He'd figured it was the only way that he could get his brother alone with the prefect he was so obviously pining over and he'd take a night of broken sleep in the infirmary over a lifetime of his twin's increasingly pathetic pining.