Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to the Harry Potter universe. This story was written for fun, not money.

This is a one-shot short story starring two of my favourite HP characters, the irrepressible Weasley twins!

It's set in about Half-Blood Prince times, though I haven't been careful to make every detail perfectly canon. There's a bit of creative licence.

Please have a read and enjoy!

*

George Weasley needed sleep like the shop's ledger needed balancing – desperately. He kept trying to focus on the ledger, squinting and unsquinting his eyes, blinking madly; but the words and numbers blurred meaninglessly. With a loud, angry sigh, he slammed it shut, giving it up as a lost cause.

Once again, he thought bitterly that he wouldn't need to be here, struggling through an all-nighter again, if Fred would just pull his weight once in a while. Running a business, and especially one as successful as Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, took more elbow grease than one person alone could provide. But Fred was useless these days. George figured he might as well have a muppet for a brother.

As he thought these things, a great weight seemed to settle on his shoulders, and he slumped forward, nose nearly touching the leathery cover of the shop's ledger. He wasn't sure he could make it up the stairs to bed ... perhaps the ledger would make a comfortable enough pillow. Even just for ten minutes...

His eyes sagged closed. Fatigue pushed him downwards, his mind fogged, the feel of the leather on his cheek wasn't so bad. Just a little sleep. He needed to recharge just enough to power his legs up the stairs, then he could go to bed properly. Then he remembered, with an uncomfortable jolt, that it was only Thursday – the shop needed to be opened up at half six, and that was probably only a few hours away. He would hardly get any sleep at all. Again.

This was all Fred's fault, of course. It wasn't just annoying anymore, it was cruel. Anger bubbled somewhere deep inside George, and he opened his eyes to find himself looking at the shelf of Nosebleed Nougats. Fred had packaged them by hand a few days ago, and they were, in fact, the only items in the shop of which that could be said. Everything else, every last item, every last display, was George's handiwork.

Yet, the shelf of Nosebleed Nougats stood proudly right by the counter, garishly presented in shades of bright purple and red, outshining every other display to tempt naïve customers into an impulse buy. George stared at it for several long minutes. It was arrogant of Fred ... arrogant and insulting, to create a display like that and put it right by the counter, then traipse off without doing any of the boring work, like adding them to the inventory or setting the prices...

George sat up suddenly, teeth gritted, taut with rage, tiredness forgotten. His fingers closed around his wand. He'd show Fred exactly what he thought of his stupid display shelf.

'Reducto!'

It was an unnecessarily powerful spell for the job at hand. Not only did the burst of power from George's wand obliterate the shelf of Nosebleed Nougats, it bowled over the stands on either side and singed a wall hanging. George sat for a moment, gazing at what he'd done, then dropped his wand with a clatter and folded his arms round his head. It was just another thing to clean up! What had he been thinking?

As he sank forward onto the desk, face buried firmly in his arms, something in the air just behind him shimmered gently. Ignorant of anything but his own exhaustion, George let sleep come, not caring if he was in bed or not. Although there was no draught, the tips of his hair shifted strangely on their own, as if brushed by an invisible hand.

George stirred just a little at the movement. The shimmering hovered over him, a faint murmuring disrupting the silence, like a voice whispering something soothing. Unbidden, a strange image flared in George's mind, a vivid imagining of how satisfying it would be to have directed that Reducto spell straight at Fred instead of at the innocent nougats. He could picture the blood spattering the walls. It was disconcerting and something about it felt wrong, yet he held the image in his mind as sleep claimed him.

***

One month earlier...

***

It was a Sunday afternoon when Claudia came into their lives. True to the day's name, the sun was brilliant in a rich blue sky, and the air was sweet.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes closed up at noon as it normally did on a Sunday, and the afternoon found proprietors Fred and George Weasley wandering the streets of Ottery St Catchpole with their friends, Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet. Ottery St Catchpole was the Muggle village nearest to the Weasley family home, and though Muggle villages could be dull at times, they could also be quite peaceful and lazy. Lazy seemed to go hand-in-hand with the atmosphere that day.

The five young people ambled down the main street, in no hurry, talking in easy drawls and stopping often to marvel at the Muggle shops. The girls, who were friends of the Weasleys from way back as they had all used to play on their school Quidditch team together, seemed constantly interested in the numerous clothes shops. Window after window was decked out with colourful dresses, and the girls stopped frequently to point and debate the finer points of couture. All five of them were in Muggle clothes today, which was always a bit of fun.

The blokes, meanwhile, strolled up the street in fits and bursts, often stopping when one or other of them became distracted by something novel. Lee, a tall and dark young man with dreadlocks to his chin, insisted on pawing through a display of children's books outside a bookshop, as Muggles were always publishing the most ridiculous and funny things to read to their kids ('Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs! Why d'you reckon they all look like gnomes?'). Fred darted off suddenly at one point, returning moments later with five heaped ice-cream cones ('Transfigured some Sickles into Muggle money, I reckon I even got the exchange rate right, now eat fast cause Muggles have no idea about making ice-cream that doesn't melt.'). George fell behind the group considerably for some time, as he got caught playing a 'fortune telling machine' that was, upon closer inspection and several wasted Muggle coins later, just a plastic toy that generated random false prophecies. Angelina went back to fetch him.

'Beware the colour red,' George read from the slip of paper the machine had given him, as they jogged to catch up with the others. 'Your lucky day is Friday. Tonight you will get something you've always wished for.'

'These poor Muggles,' mused Angelina with a grin. 'What a terrible excuse for divination!'

'I don't suppose the poor things know any better,' George snickered, pocketing the paper to show Fred later. An instant fortune-telling gimmick wasn't such a bad idea, if one designed it properly. They'd have to discuss it.

Fred and George were always on the lookout for new products for their joke shop. Even if the product wasn't a joke – even if it was just something cool – it qualified to go on their shelves. In fact, more than half of the items they stocked weren't jokes at all. The anti-Dark Arts products sold well, as one might expect, and so did the Love Potions.

George and Angelina rounded a corner and finally spotted the others just up ahead, walking along slowly. Fred, who was ahead of the others, turned so that he was walking backwards and sent the stragglers a broad grin.

'Oy! All right there? Not up to any shenanigans, I hope?'

'Shut your mouth!' Angelina called good-naturedly, as George laughed. But his expression changed suddenly.

'Fred, watch it!'

Somebody had just emerged from one of the shops, backing out with a large load in her arms. She didn't see him any more than he saw her, as he was still walking backwards. They collided rather spectacularly, Fred's legs flying up in the air and the girl giving a little 'Oh!' of surprise, the box in her hands falling to the ground with a clatter.

George and Angelina couldn't help laughing at the sight, as they closed the gap between them at a jog. Lee hauled Fred back to his feet, while Alicia offered a hand to the newcomer.

When everyone was the right way up and the embarrassed sniggering had subsided, they got a look at the unfortunate girl Fred had knocked down. She looked to be only a little younger than they were, and was pleasant-faced, with dark brown hair pushed back by a white headband. George thought she was quite pretty. Fred, evidently, thought the same thing, because he ducked down and picked up the box the girl had dropped, which George thought was suspiciously chivalrous.

'Sorry, sorry,' he said, giving her a charming smile and offering the box. It was full of coloured binders.

'No problem, I should have been looking,' she returned cheerfully, and she set the box down on a trestle table that stood on the footpath. The shop was a stationer's, and judging by the neatly ironed, collared red shirt the girl was wearing, this was her workplace.

'Awful day to be working,' Lee said conversationally, as the girl began arranging the binders on the table. She laughed graciously, but returned her focus back to her work.

Angelina and Alicia continued walking, thinking the moment had passed, but Fred had other ideas. He noticed the girl's shiny name badge, sent George a conspiratorial wink, and said kindly, 'When do you knock off, Claudia? Perhaps I can repay you for sweeping you off your feet.'

Angelina rolled her eyes and kept walking up the footpath, followed by Alicia, who was smothering a laugh in her hand. Lee smirked, shaking his head, and George had to look away or risk cracking up at Fred's pick-up line. Claudia, however, flushed a little and said coyly, 'I'm sorry?'

'When do you finish?' Fred repeated with a disarming grin. 'I don't mean to sound forward –' (George actually did snort back a laugh this time) '– but it's too nice a day to be on your lonesome, isn't it?' He saved her the embarrassment of replying by saying gaily, 'Our lot'll be down the park later on, be good to see you.'

And, with a final flash of his teeth, Fred turned and strode off after the girls, Lee and George trailing along trying to quell the tears springing into their eyes. Claudia looked rather gobsmacked. She'd stopped putting binders out, and stood instead holding a bright pink one, a similar pinkness creeping over her cheeks.

'That was cruel,' Alicia admonished Fred once he'd caught up to them.

'How so?' shrugged Fred. 'There's no pressure, and I wasn't lying. Be good to see her.' He stretched his hands high over his head, letting the sun warm his face. 'What's a Sunday afternoon without a few lovely ladies to keep me company?'

Alicia punched him lightly in the side.

***

Everyone, possibly including Fred, was surprised when Claudia actually did find them at the park. They had already been there for an hour, lolling about on a sunny stretch of grass and making a game out of transfiguring dandelions into little flowery portraits of people they knew. When they heard footsteps and saw Claudia approaching, looking a bit timid, they hurried to stuff their wands away, as this girl was no doubt a clueless Muggle. Lee rolled over and crushed Dandy-Snape and Dandy-McGonagall just in time.

'Hi,' she said uncertainly. 'Uh –'

'Pleased to meet you!' Fred chirped, hopping up, as did the others. He shook her hand, and she seemed to relax.

'Oh,' she said, 'I wasn't sure if you were serious before! I just figured, if you're new in town...'

'Oh, we live out of town a bit, not here much, you know,' Fred explained hastily.

'We're just visiting,' Angelina added, indicating herself, Alicia and Lee. 'I'm Angelina.'

'Claudia Mady,' the Muggle said with a friendly smile, and the others introduced themselves quickly. They made a colourful group. Lee and Angelina were both as dark as Alicia was blonde, and Fred and George stood out a mile with their fire-red hair. It was only then that Claudia noticed that Fred and George were twins, as they stood side-by-side with matching smiles of welcome. She personally found them to be quite handsome, with long spiked hair hanging to their collars and identical sprinkles of freckles across their noses. It was not everyday that new young people came to sleepy Ottery St Catchpole, let alone such lovely folk as these.

'Fred and George Weasley,' the twins said together, as George shook Claudia's hand. They didn't bother to tell her which was which, out of force of habit rather than any desire to be cheeky. They introduced themselves to everybody in that manner and only their mother ever complained about it.

'So,' said Claudia finally, 'would you like to head over to the pub? I have a mate who works there, we can get half-price pints.'

Lee, who up to this point had been looking a bit awkward, warmed up immediately. He and Fred went on ahead on either side of Claudia, the others flocking along behind. As they walked, they traded a little information on each other. Claudia had lived in the village for six months, she said. Her mother had transferred there for work. It was dreadfully dull, and once she finished school she was hoping to get a scholarship to a university in London, at which point she would take off. She was keen on electrical engineering, and asked the others what they were studying or working in.

Fred fielded the question before anyone else could, explaining that they had all just concluded their final year at a boarding school in the country. This was true, it just wasn't the entire truth. Claudia seemed happy with it, and she was very interested when Fred explained that he and George were entrepreneurs, in the process of establishing their own shop.

'Wow!' she trilled, as the six of them found a booth inside the musty local pub. 'What kind of shop?'

'Eh, novelty items,' said Fred delicately, sneaking a sidelong glance at George. 'Toys, tricks, things like that. There's a surprisingly good market for it.'

Claudia seemed impressed, and things only got better from there for Fred. For a Muggle, he found Claudia very easy to talk to, and he had little difficulty concealing the magical nature of anything he did. She, in turn, seemed interested in Fred's chatty small talk and laughed a lot, even if what was said wasn't very funny.

It was sunset before they parted company. Lee, Alicia and Angelina were returning to the Weasleys' house to Floo back to their homes in London, although they of course didn't mention this to their Muggle friend. Before she left for her own home, Claudia touched Fred on the arm, smiled and said, 'Hopefully I'll see you again.' She might not have done so had she known that Fred would be so bullied and teased on the walk home, that by the time they arrived he was beetroot red.

***

Over the next week, Fred and George saw more of Claudia, and her attraction to Fred was about as transparent as Nearly Headless Nick. George thought this was all a bit convenient, and made jokes that she was a succubus who'd picked Fred as her victim because he was obviously too dopey to know the difference. Fred, for his part, boasted that the girl simply knew quality when she saw it. He could be confident that it wasn't so shallow as to be based on appearance, anyway, as Claudia certainly seemed to prefer Fred over George even though they were mirror images.

Fred began spending a lot more time in Ottery St Catchpole, hanging out with Claudia and doing Muggle things like going to movies and watching cricket. All George's ribbing about how dull it must be, and how hard it must be to keep magic out of everything, fell on deaf ears. Fred was actually really enjoying himself.

'We went to an arcade today,' he said through a mouthful of food one dinnertime at their flat above Diagon Alley. 'You ever seen one of those? Crazy. Huge room, full of all these dimwits willing to give perfectly good money to play games you have to watch on little screens.'

George heated his leftover pasta with a single stroke from his wand. 'Was it fun?'

'Eh, it was all right. I found one where if you played it right, you got a teddy. The teddy didn't do anything though, Muggle toys are beyond boring.' Fred swallowed and made a face. 'You know George, I'm thinking we shouldn't keep pasta for more than a few days, this is getting a bit grody.'

Between seeing Claudia and working at the shop, Fred had little time for anything else. As the summer days wore on, dreamy and warm, the Weasley twins threw their backs into coming up with new products to debut, wanting to keep an edge over their primary competitors, like the renowned Zonko's. The Divination Dolls were coming along well, although they were only about as accurate as Muggle fortune telling machines at first – 'I predict that you sir, will grow to be tall, dark and handsome' was all their first prototype ever said, to anyone, including the family owl.

They were also working on a lolly that would allow the eater to work a lightweight memory charm, for those whose charming skills were not up to speed. It was designed to target a particular memory, rather than simply blast everything away as clumsy young witches and wizards tended to do. The concept was simple and brilliant: if one had a specific event that should be forgotten, they needed simply to eat one of the lollies and declare aloud their wish, and it would be gone from their mind permanently. It would be particularly useful for forgetting drunken antics, or the accidental witnessing of something embarrassing.

The day it finally worked, they had been discussing the possibility of regulation and if the lollies would bring them any troublesome legal problems. But this was immediately forgotten in the excitement of hitting on the winning formula. George had brandished a bright green Sneakoscope in Fred's face and explained clearly that it was broken and hadn't worked in years.

Fred downed one of the lollies, which was small and white in colour, and said loudly, 'I want to forget all about that broken Sneakoscope.'

They waited, but there was no visible evidence of anything happening. Finally, George held up the Sneakoscope again and asked, 'Remember this?'

'Hey, wasn't that ours from years ago?' Fred asked cheerfully. 'Does it still work?'

'No, it doesn't! Didn't you know that?'

'No. Haven't seen it in donkeys.'

George slammed a fist on the table. 'Fred, we've done it! I've already told you about the Sneakoscope being broken, and you've forgotten! The lollies work!'

'Yes!' Fred rejoiced. '... are you sure? Because honestly, I would have no way of knowing.'

The buzz from their success had hardly dimmed when Fred looked suddenly at the clock on their kitchen wall, and leapt up with a start.

'What's up?' asked George.

'Said I'd meet Claudia for tea,' Fred said, hurriedly grabbing an ordinary Muggle jacket hanging behind the door. 'Already late, whoops.'

'What about all this?' George complained, indicating their kitchen table, which was strewn with bits of white lolly and half-empty beakers.

'You've got it, don't you, mate?' Fred replied with a grin. 'Be back late, don't wait up.'

And he was gone, Disapparated in a heartbeat. George sat silently for a moment, surprised at how quickly his feeling of elation at a successful experiment had deflated. He wasn't used to celebrating on his own. For the first time since Fred's fling with Claudia had begun, George felt put out.

***

George was proud of himself for not being jealous, when it was all said and done. He and Fred were rarely jealous of each other, because there wasn't opportunity to be. They had grown up with two of everything; their parents had been scrupulous in ensuring that one was never favoured over the other. Furthermore, they had always done everything together, living almost like one person moving about in two bodies. There was never any room for jealously.

Still, they had both known that the day would come when one or other of them would get a girlfriend. They'd laughed about it, made ludicrous predictions about how it would go, and agreed that no girl was ever going to break up their dynamic duo. Still, hadn't that all been a bit fanciful?

Because suddenly there was a third person, and she wasn't even a witch, she was an ordinary Muggle. A cool Muggle, to be sure, but nothing spectacular. George tried to make a joke one morning at breakfast that Fred should have higher standards, and was surprised when Fred actually looked a bit offended. What was that all about?

And, even though George had so far valiantly scorned jealousy, a few weeks of having a third wheel was starting to take its toll. Fred wasn't around nearly so much anymore. He kept scarpering off to the village to see his lady friend, and even when he came back again he talked about her far too much. Despite his best efforts, George started to get all sorts of niggling, irritating and very much unwanted thoughts: does Fred prefer hanging out with Claudia to hanging out with me? What does she see in him anyway? Why does Fred have a girlfriend and I don't, what's my problem? What if they get married and move away, and I have to run the shop by myself and hardly see Fred anymore?

That last question sent George off into a fantasy that plunged into a downward spiral, getting worse and worse. He was just imagining himself destitute on the street because the shop had gone bankrupt under his direction, and Fred didn't care because he was too busy with his seven children, when the real life Fred snapped his fingers in front of George's eyes and he jerked back to the present.

'Hellooo?' Fred called in a stupid voice.

'Ah, sorry,' mumbled George. He was behind the counter in their shop, daydreaming. It was the end of the day and there were only a few customers still poking around the colourful shelves.

'I was gonna ask you a favour but now I wonder if you're up to it,' Fred said with mock concern, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

'Nah, sorry, got a little distracted,' George said. 'What is it?'

'Can you close up tonight?' Fred asked eagerly, eyes bright. 'I'm –'

'– meeting Claudia,' George finished grumpily. This wasn't the first time this had happened.

'Read my mind!' exclaimed Fred, not picking up on George's tone at all, and he pulled off his magenta Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes robe in a hurry, dumping it behind the counter. He was already dressed as a Muggle underneath.

'Been planning this?' George whinged, but Fred didn't hear. He was already clumping up the stairs to the flat, raking fingers through his hair, getting ready to Apparate.

'Thanks!' he called back down.

'Thanks,' muttered George. Then a small boy approached the counter with an armful of Skiving Snackboxes, and George plastered on a smile.

But, hours later, when the last jot was in the ledger and the magical deadlocks were charmed twice over for the best of protection, George couldn't smile anymore. He couldn't help it. He was jealous. Jealous, and grumpy, because apparently the poor sod who didn't have a girlfriend was the one who had to hold down the fort all the time. That hardly seemed fair.

Besides, the shop was extremely lonely without Fred there to make a ruckus and talk nonstop. George entertained the idea of going home to the Burrow for the evening, but brushed it off as lame. It would be obvious to his family how he felt. He didn't need them pitying him, or worse, teasing him. (That was the problem with teasing your family ceaselessly for years on end; when they ever got a chance to tease back, they squeezed every drop of enjoyment out of it that they possibly could.)

Unable to think of anything else to do, George decided to go to bed. But, inwardly, he was boiling uncomfortably with jealousy and anger. Get over it, he thought firmly. Stop being so pathetic!

Meanwhile, far outside the shop and high in the indigo sky, an odd new presence hesitated in the middle of its flight, appearing in the air as only the softest of shimmers. It looked downwards, as much as an eyeless creature can look downwards, and inhaled deeply despite not having lungs. It smelled something tasty.

It moved downwards, silent as a shadow but not nearly as visible, glancing off the rooftops and hovering gently over Diagon Alley. Through an upper storey window, it saw a teenage boy, who was trying to disentangle some bed sheets with jerky, fretful movements. The presence lingered there, uncertain, then trickled slowly closer, easing through the wall and into the room without pause.

Again, it breathed in, and the scent was stronger. This boy was the source. The presence shivered with delight, remembering how hungry it was. The smell was new, freshly burning, irresistible. Soundlessly, it moved forward, and dared to touch lightly upon the boy's shoulder...

In a flash, George thought suddenly of what Fred was doing. He was probably all wrapped up with Claudia, laughing, snogging, making empty small talk, while George was here alone, fighting with this infuriating knot of a sheet. Where was the justice in the world? Did he somehow deserve less than his twin? A shot of anger burst inside him, but he expelled it quickly, shaking his head. These thoughts would do no good, and he knew it. If Fred had a girlfriend, then Fred had a girlfriend. End of story. He'd just have to deal with it.

The presence floated to the ceiling, pleased, strengthened.

***

The Weasleys and their friend Lee Jordan were in Ottery St Catchpole the following week, visiting the local pub as they had so enjoyed it last time. George was relieved that, for once, Claudia wasn't with them. Fred said she had to work.

It was almost like normal. The three of them lounged together in the same dingy, squeaky leather booth they'd had last time, and talk turned to reminiscing on their Hogwarts days. Not for the first time, they laughed uncontrollably over Fred and George's final escape from the clutches of Dolores Umbridge, who had taken over the school. They had effectively expelled themselves with that one glorious stunt.

Lee still had tears running down his cheeks when a familiar voice chirped, 'Fred! Hey!'

George stiffened awkwardly, laughter subsiding, as Claudia sprang over to them, beaming like a cheshire cat. She looked rapidly between the twins, who were sitting beside each other, and didn't seem to settle on Fred until he lit up like a Christmas tree and returned a jaunty, 'Hey babe!'

George, however, thought it was interesting that she'd been unable to tell them apart at first. Surely, if she and Fred were getting to know each other as ... thoroughly as Fred was always saying, she could pick it by now? George found it somehow troubling that Fred's supposed girlfriend couldn't pass that simple test (although the only people in the world who absolutely never failed the test were Charlie and Ginny).

The conversation quickly turned boring as Claudia plonked herself down next to Fred and they scooched over, squishing George against the grubby wall. They had to invent a cover story to explain why they'd been laughing, which was the same basic story but with Muggle fireworks and a getaway car instead of broomsticks (Claudia could still scarcely believe it). Quite suddenly, their happy reminiscing was over, and talk turned to the mundane stuff of Muggles. Lee didn't look any happier than George did, although Fred blatantly ignored this.

George prodded at the remains of his club sandwich with a fork, trying to keep the disgust off his face as Claudia prattled about how lucky she was to get the afternoon off work and wouldn't it just be lovely if they all went to the pictures together? While Lee tried to make up an excuse not to go, George sat silent, once again burning with anger. This girl was cramping his style. Their style.

With a sudden burst of fury, he stabbed his sandwich brutally with his fork, making a loud clang. Surprised at how fidgety he was, he put the fork down carefully, and mumbled that he had work to do back at the shop.

The presence lifted, returning to its usual haunt just below the beams in the ceiling. It felt very peaceful. It had no difficulty telling those two boys apart. Only one of them was streaming with the delicious scent.

'I guess it's just you and me,' Claudia said sweetly, curling her fingers around Fred's arm. He flashed her a smile, but as they got up to go, he cast an uncomfortable glance at George, which George didn't notice. He was staring dully at the remnants of his sandwich. Fred thought his twin seemed a bit off-colour, and he resolved to bring it up later on.

***

Fred never did bring it up. He forgot about it as thoroughly as if he'd swallowed one of their newly christened Mindlapse Minties, as he and Claudia made their way to the cinema, discussing which of the summer blockbusters they should see this time. It was another great afternoon, why spoil it just because George was being a bit of a downer?

The next night, which was balmy with a clear sky, Fred left George with the shop once again and headed off into the village to meet Claudia for tea. This time, he did feel vaguely guilty, just a little. He'd hardly been at the shop at all over the past week. Claudia always wanted to do something, and Fred could hardly say no to a lovely lady seeking his attention. Besides, George didn't know what it was like, to have a girl like Claudia fawn all over you. It was a bit addictive. Fred just hoped that the half a day he'd spent painstakingly wrapping those Nosebleed Nougats yesterday would be enough to get him off the hook (it would have been quicker by magic, but you can charge more for handmade things).

Dinner was a slow-paced, lazy affair of noodles in a Chinese restaurant that was about as Chinese as Fred himself – not at all. Fred listened with surprising patience as Claudia talked about her career ambitions. He didn't find 'engine earring' to be a very interesting subject – it sounded like something Percy would talk about – but anything she said, no matter how Percyesque, was somehow pleasing to the ear.

Afterwards, they ambled down the street hand-in-hand, peeking into shop windows and lamenting that everything was closing up so early. After all that chilli, Fred was in the mood for ice-cream. As they passed by the central square, a bright pink shop with many lingering people caught his eye.

'Oh-ho-ho, what do we have here?' he cried triumphantly, pointing. 'Is that not an ice-cream shop?'

'Oh, I'd forgotten!' Claudia exclaimed. 'They're open till 11 in summer. I'd kill for a strawberry, they're really good.'

'Allow me,' said Fred gallantly, fishing in the pockets of his jeans for some Muggle money. It was actually wizard money that he'd transfigured, having used up his stocks of real Muggle money ages ago.

Claudia snuck a hand onto his shoulder teasingly. 'You're too kind.'

'Well, yeah,' Fred agreed, lowering his head a little so that their eyes were on a level. He kissed her automatically, and she kissed back, and for one little moment they hung there in happiness.

Fred broke away, grinned, and excused himself. 'I'll get the ice-creams. It's pretty crowded, do you want to wait here?' He indicated a wrought-iron bench set against a large statue in the square.

Claudia took a seat and stared contentedly at the stars as Fred headed over to the ice-cream place. This, she felt, was truly summer. Living in this village wasn't so bad with a spunky young man like Fred to gad about with. True, he was no Edward Cullen (a dog-eared copy of Twilight was beside her bed at home, a guilty pleasure!), but sexy vampires weren't real, anyway. Fred at least had the 'sexy' bit down pat.

Only a moment later, Fred reappeared, ice-creamless.

'What's the matter?' asked Claudia, noticing that he looked a bit miffed.

'Sold out,' he said grumpily. 'I'm devastated.'

'Oh, well, it's okay,' Claudia said quietly, getting up and taking his hand. 'I've got some ice-cream back home ... if you like.'

She tensed, but she needn't have worried. Fred cheerfully proclaimed it a capital idea, and she began to lead him in the direction of her home, heart thudding excitedly. She mentally ran through everything that could be wrong at home – was her mother home? Was there underwear on display? What would Fred say if he saw she was reading Twilight?

'So, let me ask you something,' Fred interrupted her thoughts. 'We've been seeing each other a while now...'

'Yes,' she whispered, thudding heart picking up even more speed.

'I was wondering ... what you think of me? Of us,' he added hastily, not looking at her.

'Oh, you mean...'

'Well, is this, you know, going anywhere? You and me? This?' Fred couldn't seem to find the right way to put it.

Claudia giggled stupidly, feeling about five years younger. 'What do you think?'

'I want to know what you think,' he said quickly.

She chewed her lip for a moment. 'Well ... I like to think so. Don't you?'

'Sure, sure,' Fred agreed at once. He didn't look very excited about it.

Quite suddenly, a loud and piercing yell split the silent air. 'GEORGE!'

Claudia turned to look behind them, back towards the square, and was surprised to see a familiar figure running towards them. For a moment, she thought it must be George, Fred's twin, because he looked just like the guy next to her. But then she noticed that the newcomer was holding two dripping pink ice-cream cones, and the penny dropped.

'George?!' she gasped in surprise, pulling her hand away and taking a step back from the grimacing character beside her. Fred ... and it must be Fred ... had run up to them and was wearing an uncharacteristically thunderous expression that clashed with the cheerful ice-creams in his hands.

Claudia looked back and forth between the two of them, flabbergasted. They were dressed exactly the same. There was no way to tell them apart that she could see. She could only assume that the one who looked like he was about to commit murder was her Fred, because of the ice-creams he held. The other one just looked grim.

'I don't believe you!' Fred yelled, his voice echoing around the quiet street. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?!'

George shrugged glumly. Fred hesitated, then thrust the ice-creams at Claudia with a short 'Hold these', before seizing his brother by the shirt-front and lugging him some distance away. Claudia stood, cold ice-cream beginning to drip on her hands, feeling somehow violated.

'I don't believe you,' Fred hissed, jabbing a finger in George's chest. 'This is the lowest thing you've ever done! What were you planning to do, make out with her?'

'No!' George said at last, suddenly looking just as incensed.

'Could have fooled me!' cried Fred, throwing up his hands in a gesture not unlike something their mother would do. He shook his head, staring, shocked. 'Why did you do that? Do you just hate me? Or do you like her?'

'I don't like her,' George spat, and Claudia must have heard because she turned suddenly away, looking awkward. 'And I doubt she likes you. She can't even tell us apart. I proved it.'

Fred's mouth actually fell open. He stared for a moment, gobsmacked, then gave George a shove and said in a low voice, 'You haven't heard the end of this. Get lost.'

It was Fred who put an arm around Claudia, took his ice-cream and began to apologise profusely, trying to explain that George wasn't normally like that and that it was the most sick joke he'd ever seen. Claudia was happy enough to accept the apology, but she was a little put off by it, and rather than going back to her house they ended up sitting in the park for another hour, licking ice-cream and talking. Fred was at a loss to explain George's behaviour, and when Claudia asked in a tiny voice what she'd done to make George hate her, Fred felt rage brim inside him. It was nigh on unforgivable.

George had retreated to a dark corner of the street and Apparated himself back to the flat. Once in his room, he glanced miserably in the mirror, regarding the outfit he'd carefully assembled in order to match Fred, then sat down heavily on his bed.

He felt sick. What had seemed at first like a good plot to uncover just how well Claudia really did know Fred now looked like one of the most revolting things he'd ever done. Fred would never forgive him, George knew that. They'd always had the potential to masquerade as each other behind each other's backs, but there was an unspoken trust that they would never do such a thing. This, then, was an enormous betrayal. What if he'd done permanent damage? What if this was the end of them? He couldn't imagine himself and Fred ever laughing over something again, not anymore. Fred would probably be angry for the rest of his life.

Feeling like he deserved it and thoroughly ashamed, George kicked his shoes off, turned out the light and hid under his sheets, still fully dressed. He had no idea how he could possibly get to sleep.

In the darkness, the gentle presence that had been following George for days now became slightly more visible, shimmering with a faint green tinge. It settled onto the bed, and breathed in deeply.

***

On to Part 2...