A Little Bit of Love and Laughter

Fred and I were sitting under the large oak tree near the Quidditch pitch later that day, discussing the homework Severus had given in Potions. Roger and Violet were in their Arithmancy class, and George had gone to get himself a snack.

"So Felix Felicis is 'Liquid Luck', right?" he asked, flipping through pages in his textbook. There was obviously something else on his mind.

"Right," I answered.

He put his book down suddenly. "Why is it that Snape is such a git to you?" He paused. "Well, I mean, he's a right git to pretty much everybody but to you especially."

"Really?" I asked, distractedly. "I hadn't noticed."

"You must have, Em. It's pretty blatant, and it's gotten worse this year."

In a desperate attempt to change the subject, for fear of slipping again, I said, "I think the answer to number three is—"

He cut me off. "Are you avoiding this topic for any particular reason?"

"No. I'm just... a Ravenclaw," I said hesitantly, pointing to the blue and bronze emblem on my chest. "Conscientious, you know?"

He didn't sound convinced in the least. "Listen, Em, I know I've been a bit of an arse lately... There's just something about that Davies bloke that rubs me the wrong way. And I'm sorry about all that. But no matter how much of a prat I am, you know you can still tell me anything, right?"

I nodded and he continued, "And even if you don't tell me, I'll eventually figure it out, even if I have to tickle it out of you."

With that, he lunged at me, making sure not to be the least bit merciful. As I squirmed, desperately trying to get away as he tickled my waist, he climbed atop me, allowing me even less movement. I had missed moments like this, where it was just Fred and me, without a care in the world.

"Stop it, Fred! Stop, please. Fred, stop it, I'll do anything!" I shrieked in desperation, struggling against my laughter for breath.

The tickling became immediately less intense but did not stop completely. Then came his simple demand, "Tell me."

"Just not that!"

And the tickle torture suddenly resumed.

"Fred!" I screeched. His hands tickled my waist relentlessly, and as I squirmed in hopes of getting out of his grasp, the top half of my body haphazardly bolted upward in an uncontrollable fit of motion, causing out lips to meet.

Though I was shocked by the sheer chance of it, I was even more surprised that neither of us pulled away. I felt my chest rise and fall, and his hand moved from my waist to my neck, holding me up.

"Finally!" George's familiar voice said with a chuckle behind us, and we both scrambled about trying to get up. "Do you realize how long everyone's been waiting for that to finally happen? Sheesh, you're both so bloody stubborn we were beginning to lose hope!"

There was a small crowd of people standing around us, as if this miraculous chance kiss had been some sort of free once-in-a-lifetime show. George then turned to all of them, saying, "Show's over. Nothing more to see here. Shoo, shoo!" and mumbled under his breath, "Bloody buzzards..." When the crowds had dispersed, he looked back at us and with a wink began, "So...?"

"What?" Fred asked, almost defensively.

"How was it?" George suggestively inquired.

Feeling confused and slightly uncomfortable, I answered bluntly, "It was just a... kiss." I nearly had to force the word from my mouth.

"Just a kiss?" repeated the twins in unison.

"Well, what was it to you then?" I asked Fred.

He stuttered, "It was... um... you know..."

George rolled his eyes. "Look what you've done, Em. Now he's a bumbling buffoon!"

"I've got to go," I said, awkwardly gathering up my books.

As I left, I heard George demand of Fred, "Why can't you just admit it that you fancy her?"

But I was more concerned that I hadn't once thought of Roger during that kiss...