Chapter 1: Key into your life

~o0o~

Fred let out an exhausted huff at the last few steps up the stairs. Upon arriving at the door, he reached impatiently into his pocket to get his keychain, and groaned as he recalled what had taken for him to get to his destination. Ten hours travelling, six of those cramped in a metal box, thousands of feet in the air. A baby had cried, he hadn't gotten any sleep, and some people had vomited during some heavy turbulence (not him, though, never him—he enjoyed those). Needless to say, he was relieved to be on the ground again, and more than happy to be back in London.

Finally finding the right key, Fred unlocked the door. "Gin?" he called out.

There was no response. His sister must be at her football training still.

Fred closed the door behind him and casually strode into his sister's bedroom, leaving the suitcase and his shoes in the hallway. He could already imagine the soft mattress, the warm blankets—and though he was reluctant to admit it— the scented candles she kept by the bedroom window. In his dazed state, however, he didn't realise that there were books instead of candles, and that the bed cover was drowning in cat fur. All Fred was thinking of at this moment was that he hoped his sister wouldn't mind if he borrowed her bed for a few hours.

It felt like he'd only closed his eyes for a couple of minutes when something attacked his face. Something extremely hairy.

"Crookshanks," someone hissed, "get away."

Fred groaned as he was stirred awake. "Since when d'you get a cat?"

"Since I was thirteen—and oh my god, have you been watching me?!"

"Watching you? What?" Fred asked, drowsily. He slowly rose to a sitting position, rubbed his eyes, and attempted to have them adjust to the bright light coming from the ceiling. After a few blinks he could distinguish the woman standing by the doorway. It was not his sister, and whoever this brunette woman was, she looked angry. She was also—Fred noted with added confusion—holding a baseball bat.

"Who are you?" Fred asked.

The woman gaped. "Who am—I should be asking you that!"

Goodness, was she shrill.

"Calm down," Fred said, holding his hands up as a sign of peace, "I'm not here to hurt you."

"You can't expect me to believe that," she scoffed, her fear disappearing in the face of his apparent stupidity. Fred's lips twitched a little at that, but she seemed to have caught it and narrowed her eyes in warning.

"Look," he said, getting a tad impatient, and no longer wishing to be seen as an intruder, "I have a key to this apartment, my sister gave it to me. Her name's Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

The name was obviously familiar to the woman as apprehension then bloomed across her face. "You're one of Ginny's brothers?"

Fred breathed out in relief. "Yes," he confirmed, "I'm Fred, one of the twi—"

"—twins, yeah. Ginny told me about you. I assume, judging by the suitcase in the hallway, that you're the one who was in America this past month?"

"That's me. Would you mind lowering that?"

The woman followed his nod to the bat, but her grip did the opposite and grew firmer.

"Or not," said Fred, slowly, "Whatever's most comfortable for you. I am a strange man lying in what I now realise is your bed." He glanced at the orange ball of fluff next to him. "Your cat, then?"

"Yes," she said.

"He's cute."

For the first time her expression resembled something close to a smile. "You're lying. Everyone else says his face looks like the victim of a train accident."

"Oh, it's not . . . "Fred looked at the cat again, "that bad. I'd say bicycle accident at most."

She visibly suppressed a giggle. "You know, I ought to call the police on you. Or at least your sister."

Fred gestured with his hand. "Go ahead."

With a still good grip on the bat, she dialed his sister. "Hi, Ginny . . .Yes, he's here right now," said the woman. She hummed and 'aha'd for a while, and then aimed the back of her phone at him.

"What are you—"

There was a flash.

While Fred blinked as white spots danced before his eyes, the woman tucked her phone back to her ear. "Did you get it?" A few more seconds, then, "Okay, I'll see you soon." She hung up and focused her attention back to Fred.

"Ginny says you're the real deal, so I'll trust her. And she'll be here in ten minutes with some food."

"Great, I'm starving," said Fred and yawned. "What time is it?"

The woman was still standing by the doorway, slightly pursing her lips at him now. "It's eight o'clock."

Fred ignored her stare and did the math in his head. "Well, I reckon I've had a sufficient amount of sleep. I'll stay for dinner and then head back home."

The woman had been slightly tapping her foot as Fred spoke, looking eager to say something but restraining herself, but now appeared to have reached her end. "Mind me asking why you're even here?" she asked, irritation coating her words as if they'd been drenched in it.

"This place is closer to the airport than mine. Mind me asking why you are here?" Fred snapped back. Had he been in a better state of mind, he probably wouldn't have provoked her . . . or he just might have, because it looked like she was easily provoked and that just opened up so many fun possibilities.

"I happen to live here," the brunette said, raising the bat ever so slightly. "I'm renting this apartment from Ginny because she moved into mine."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because I lived with my best friend, who coincidentally is her boyfriend, so I didn't think much of it. This is a great apartment for someone who lives alone and it's not too far from work, but you know what I didn't sign up for? Finding strange men sleeping in my bed!"

Her curly hair appeared to almost bristle along with her agitation as she spoke, and Fred had to try really hard not comment on her angry rant. However, he was a weak man . . .

"That sounds like a sad life to lead," he said, cheekily.

The woman growled— actually growled— and he wondered if she knew just how much worse that made it for her, because this was the best entertainment he'd had in months.

"Perhaps you should think before you speak," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "What if I told you I liked women? Huh?"

Fred grinned. "Well, do you?"

She flushed. "That's beside the point—"

"Seemed to be very much the point a few seconds ago."

"Honestly, you're the most annoying person I've ever met!" she said, stomping her foot.

"Really? And here I was thinking of how lovely you were."

"What is going?" asked a voice, making the two of them turn their heads.

"Gin!" said Fred. "Nice to see you, sis!"

"Likewise," she said, appearing in the doorway, in the middle of removing her jeans jacket. "I hope you had a good trip and I figured you'd be hungry so there's food in the kitchen. Oh! And, Fred, this is my friend Hermione, Hermione this is my brother—"

"Yes, we've had the fortune to meet," said Hermione, handing Ginny the baseball bat, and striding away towards the kitchen.

Ginny glanced at the bat, then to where her friend had disappeared, and then to Fred. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," he answered. "I just came here to rest and I woke up and almost had my head bashed in by a woman with crazy hair."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't let her hear you say that or you will have your head bashed in."

~o0o~

A/N: Hello! So this is an idea I've had for a while but I've never gotten around to write it really. This will probably not be more than four chapters tops, and I'll only update it whenever I have time, but I hope you enjoyed this first chapter at least!

Until next time!
/Primrue