It's Better If You Do

Fred rolled his eyes and snorted slightly, an amused look taking place of the scowl they had both directed to George. When the blonde tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, he smirked and said, "Maybe if I had these scars our mother would be able to tell us apart for once. She's always confusing us."

"Really?" asked Rose surprisedly. "Bellamy and I've never had a problem telling you two apart." For the most part he was trying to keep his mind off of his wounds, but on the other he was really quite curious, as he scrutinized her face.

"How do you tell us apart?" Fred asked, watching her face instead of the blood on her hands and his chest. It looked like a murder scene of some sort; the wash cloth was making the blood swirl down his chest in rivulets, and her hands, and briefly her lips when she kissed his cuts, were tained in the morbid liquid. Now he supposed he had his own blood on his lips, but he didn't really want to think about that. Thoughtfully, she chewed on her bottom lip.

"I think... it's mostly your expressions." she said simply, walking over to the table and picking up the small vial and unstoppering it, then tying back her long hair so it wouldn't get in the way. When Rose looked up and saw his face, she smiled kindly, and reassured him, "Don't worry. It doesn't hurt. I've had my few shares of dittany myself, and it just feels a bit odd, is all."

His expression didn't change much, though his lips did purse in a skeptical way. His mother had often told him such stories, and they never turned out like she had described. Fred had a high pain tolerance, sure, but he wouldn't have to go through this ordeal if that damned owl hadn't cut him. Turning his head to the door so he didn't have to watch, he asked casually, "My expressions?"

Rose nodded, and quickly poured a drop on each of the cuts on his shoulder and back in rapid succession. Greenish smoke billowed forward, and she waited until it passed to examine his wounds to see if he needed another drop. But, they appeared to be all healed; the skin looked days, if not weeks old, and there was only the slightest white lines against his already pale and freckled skin to suggest that anything had happened there. She knew if they had been worse they would not have healed this quickly, but nonetheless. Giving him a wide, accomplished grin, she teased him, saying, "All better. See, that wasn't that bad, now was it?"

He gave a noncommital sound, not wanting to admit that she had been right. All he had felt was the tugging of his skin together, but it had been an abscent, numb feeling he associated with fire whiskey after the initial burn had vanished. "You're avoiding the question, Rosie."

"Your expressions differ from George's about certain things," she began slowly, her thoughtful expression returning as she quickly went over to Bellamy's potions bag and stuck it carefully in a small space just large enough for the bottle. Turning back to him, she said, "I don't know how to explain, really. You two are different people, though twins you may be. It's like... if I took Polyjuice Potion and became Bellamy. Would you still be able to tell it was me underneath?"

Nodding, Fred said, "Definitely." Rose seemed to finally notice all the blood over the two of them, frowned, and pulled out her wand.

"Tergeo," she murmured, siphoning the blood off. Picking up his shirt and vest from the floor, she ran her wand along the ripped seams and they knit back together instantaneously. "Here you go. Good as new."

"Thanks," he said gratefully, putting on his shirt quickly. A little too quickly, because his buttons were all aligned wrong, and he ended up with the bottom button without a match. Snickering quietly, Rose unbuttoned all of them and fastened them the proper way with a highly amused smile on her face.

"My my, what would you do without me, Mr. Weasley?" Rose mused quietly, raising an eyebrow at him, her blue eyes full of laughter. He grinned and shrugged, happy that he could do so once again.

"Well, I would just die of want of your extraordinary snogging abilities-" Fred began in a loud melodramatic voice but she quickly smacked him, shushing him with a rather bright red blush on her cheeks. He merely grinned cheekily at her, and gave her a wink. Rolling her eyes in a way that made her resemblance to Bellamy extremely pronounced, she shook her head.

"You're impossible." Rose declared, earning a loud laugh from Fred, and began to walk out of the backpart of the shop, aware that he wasn't but two steps behind her. Smirking broadly, he bent down until his lips were almost brushing against the nape of her neck. She went very still and shivered at his breath on her skin.

"It's part of my charm," he whispered softly, before laughing uproariously and holding the curtain for her as she strode past, shaking her head with dissaproval, but not entirely able to keep a large smile off of her face. Bellamy, who was once again at her post of the shield hats, quickly made her way to Rose, ready to be in the confinement of the back room where she could actually be alone and fix her potions.

"Do you mind taking over up there for me?" the brunette asked quietly, casting a nasty glance towards the children who were knocking all the hats right back onto the floor. Rose nodded, though secretly dreaded the task. "Thank you."

"It's no problem," she responded with a smile, making her way up the stairs. Fred watched her go, and went off to find George, which wasn't a very hard task at all, seeing as he was always in the thick of the noise and action. The fireworks he was demonstrating now were the silver ones Rose preferred and they whizzed by at an incredible speed, almost singing the hair off of Fred's head.

"Dumb bloody owl," Fred grumbled to George, who's gride widened mischeviously and he let out a long cackle that instantly had his twin glaring at him.

"You're going to think it's even dumber the longer it stays." George said through laughs, shaking his head while Fred's expression grew murderous.

"It's staying?" he asked darkly, rubbing his shoulder absently. "Why?"

"Bellamy said it'd stand out in the tropics where their parents are, apparently. I won't much enjoy having it around either, mate. Especially since I'm going to get Rose a kitten-" George was cut of by a wide eyed Fred.

"You can't get her a kitten if it's staying! George, that owl will eat it in a heartbeat, and that'll break Rose's heart." Fred explained, thinking of the fiasco it would be to find her beloved owl eating her new kitten. George's eyes widened as well, and it was a good thing the fireworks were loud, because he let out a long string of curse words that would have immediately made all the parents take the children out of the store.

"I knew that bird was trouble from the moment I saw it," he muttered, trying to think of ways to get rid of it for a while. "Well... we still have to write Mum and tell her that we're coming, and that Rose and Bellamy will be joining us. Maybe we can ask the girls if they'll loan out the owl to them, since we don't have much use for it here. That'll solve everybody's problem, at least for a little while."

Nodding slowly, Fred clasped his brother on the shoulder, "Sounds like a plan. Go ahead and ask Bellamy, while she's in a good mood. If she's making potions, she'll be happy, err, atleast as happy as she gets."

"Right," George said with a small nod as he began to walk briskly to the back of the shop, ready to plead, beg, and possibly reveal his plan to make his mistake up to Rose in order to make Bellamy get rid of the bloody owl.