It's Better If You Do

Rose blinked sleepily from her cot at the surly George who was scowling at his drawer, rummaging through his clothes in an almost violent manner. She tilted her head, and asked quietly, "Are you alright?"

"I'm just fine," came the curt reply, to which she sighed. If he didn't want to tell her, she wasn't going to force him. She sat looking around the room as she waited for Fred to finish with the bathroom, her eyes half lidded and slightly swollen from her lack of sleep. George had his back to her, taking off his shirt quickly, and slipping another one in another instant. He then sat down on his bed, looking at the bathroom door with a slightly impatient aura. Obviously he wasn't used to taking turns dressing, or having to change in front of women.

She smiled a bit, rumpling her hair with a yawn. Fred had woken her up sweetly, lightly shaking her and giving her a kiss on the forehead. If that was the way she was getting woken up from now on, she did not mind in the slightest. The said twin came out of the bathroom giving them both a wide smile. He apparently was used to lack of sleep. "Morning George."

"Morning." George grumbled darkly.

Fred looked over at Rose, and raised his eyebrows, but she merely shrugged. He shook his head, and tried again. "Something the matter?"

"No more than the usual. Me sticking my foot in my mouth and getting her mad at me," he muttered, crossing the room quickly and shutting the door with a bit more force than neccessary. Fred sighed, running his hand through his hair ruefully.

"I swear they're like an old married couple." he said, giving Rose a small smile.

"Except the married couple is on better terms," she murmured, wondering what George had said to upset Bellamy now. He nodded, and sat down beside her.

"That's true," he agreed, before lightly touching one of the circles beneath her eyes. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I was out like a light. My eyes just get like this if I don't get the standard eight to ten hours," she said, smirking slightly. "My body is a bit high maintenance."

Fred chuckled, grinning, "You french flowers and your beauty sleep."

Shrugging, Rose leaned her head on his shoulder, and mumbled, "I still need a few more hours, then."

He shook his head, scoffing quietly. "You do not. You're beautiful now."

"Mmmmf," came the eloquent reply, as she got up and kneeled beside her trunk, sorting through for something to wear. He watched, fascinated, as color after color of clothing landed on the cot, put aside by the determined blonde, as she sifted through trying to find her red skirt. George came out of the bathroom then, and smirked, amused as the tall pile of clothes on the cot beside Fred.

"Keep adding on to that, and it'll be taller than Fred," he said, grinning at his brother, who in turn, realized that he was quite right. The trunk seemed to have been altered by magical means, and held far more than was standard. It shocked him slightly, for all the clothes he had fit neatly in one drawer.

"Merlin's Beard. How do you have so many clothes?" Fred asked curiously, staring at the trunk, while George sat down beside his brother. Rose's mouth twisted in wry smile.

"Because I stopped growing the summer I turned fifteen," Rose said, looking at the two of them. "I'm going to be eighteen within the next few weeks, so you see, it's been a while. Bellamy is the same way, which is why we have such an extensive wardrobe, because we keep all of our clothing. I blame it on my mother's side of the family."

"I knew you two were tinier than normal." George said triumphantly, a satisifed smile on his face. Fred shook his head, smiling as well.

"Tiny is a harsh word," she pouted, though the effect wasn't nearly as good as it should have been, because the towering pile of clothes fell on top of her, and she let out a loud cry of surprise, while the twins roared with laughter. Sharp rapping footsteps were hard coming up the stairs, and Bellamy appeared in the doorway, taking in the scene. She was trying very hard not to laugh, but a small chuckle escaped, as she shook her head.

"Oh, Rose," she said, digging her sister out, who looked very disgruntled. "You're such a goose at times."

"I am no such goose," grumbled the blonde, as she scowled at the three of them. "I was trying to find my red skirt. You know? The bright red one? I can't find it."

To add insult to injury, Bellamy picked up the skirt from right on top of Rose's head, and handed it to her, causing the twins to once again collapse into laughter. She exhaled in a heavy huff, and began snatching up what appeared to be random clothing, and stomped into the bathroom. Bellamy chuckled once more at her younger sister, and began folding her clothes neatly, and stacking them back into her trunk.

"Did she enchant her trunk to fit so much?" George asked quizzically, noticing like Fred had, that a far larger amount of clothing was fitting in than it should have. Bellamy nodded, her gloved hands moving swiftly over the assorted garments.

"She did it for both of us," the brunette said quietly. "She's rather good at extending charms and transfigurations. We're opposites in our talents in Wizardry."

"A bit of opposites anyway," Fred pointed out, handing her a folded shirt.

"Thank you, though I'd suggest you don't go through any more of her clothing. You don't know what you'll find," Bellamy said delicately, while George snickered, earning a sour look from both Fred and Bellamy. Shaking her head, she began in a thoughtful tone, "We are opposites, in some ways. But we're alike in ways that count."

Neither of the twins knew how to respond to this deep thought, and were gratefully distracted as Rose came out smoothing her red skirt, poised and with a smile on her face. When she noticed Bellamy folding her clothes, she quickly sat down beside her to help.

"I don't know why you're doing this," she murmured. "They're just going to get messed up again. You know I don't care whether or not they're folded."

"Maybe to try and teach you that you can find things better if they're sorted correctly, instead of thrown together in one large heap," she said sternly, though her small half smile took the sting out of her words.

Smirking, Rose said softly, "Alright Mama."

Bellamy quickly swatted her with the shirt she had been holding, and they both laughed. The twins smiled widely at the sisters' playful bantering. Both of them had realized, at different times, that the best way to put the sharp woman in a better mood was to put her sister in the same room. It eased her up considerably, and you might even catch a laugh or a smile, if you stuck around long enough.

When the last shirt was folded, and put snugly into the trunk, Bellamy stood, and asked the boys, "When does that shop open exactly?"

Both of them shrugged, but George answered, "It depends on what we're doing that day, but normally by nine o'clock. We've still got about," he quickly checked his watch. "thirty or so minutes before then, though."

She nodded, and turned to Fred and Rose, "You two need to go ahead and eat breakfast, so I can wash the dishes." They didn't need to be told twice, and they quickly left the room, hungry now that it had been brought to their attention. There was an awkward silence between the two remaining persons in the room, and George scuffed his feet on the floor, trying to muster up the courage to apologize for his inquiry at breakfast.

Bellamy turned to leave, when he gently said, "Wait." She looked back at him, crossing her arms over her chest, a stoic expression on her face. He looked down, then up at her, sighing slightly, "I'm sorry for what I asked earlier. I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's quite alright, George." she said stiffly, still internally wincing from the memories he had brought up with his question. He sighed again, and shook his head.

"No, it isn't. That was a personal question, and I had no right to ask it." he said solemnly, watching as her expression softened a tiny bit.

"Like I said," Bellamy murmured, walking toward the door. "It's alright."