October 26th, 1995
"Are you waiting for something?" Jules gave a start and turned to the irritated looking Sixth year standing behind her in the Owlery.
"Sorry?" she said confusedly, her breath rising in the air in front of her, clouding between her and the younger student.
"You've been standing at the window since I came in. Are you going to send that or can I get past? It's bloody freezing up here." The Ravenclaw gestured to Jules's hand. Jules looked down at the letter to her mother she was holding. She had spent ages writing it; she didn't want her request for her mother's recipe for Essence of Dittany to seem too suspicious. It didn't help that periodically she found herself drifting off into a distracted daydream. No prizes for guessing which ebullient redhead was waiting for her there every time, his irreverent grin firmly in place as he told her once more that anyone ashamed of kissing her was an idiot. The memory of Fred's touch had struck once more as she had entered the Owlery and Jules was embarrassed to admit that she wasn't completely sure how long she had been stood there, replaying their conversation from the night before for what had to be the hundredth time.
Jules stepped away from the window, mumbling an apology. The Ravenclaw pushed her glasses up her nose and seemed to be trying to withhold an eye-roll as she took Jules's place at the window "Thanks." She hurriedly affixed her post to a large Tawny Owl who looked as impatient and cold as she did and sent it on its way. Turning back from the window and stamping her feet to warm them back up, the Ravenclaw fixed her critical gaze once more on Jules.
"Are you planning to stay up here much longer? Only you have icicles in your hair."
Jules reached a hand up to feel the end of her ponytail which had indeed, frozen almost solid. She looked embarrassedly at the younger girl.
"I uh- I hadn't realised how long I had been standing there."
"No kidding." The Ravenclaw folded her arms. Despite being younger, she was taller than Jules by at least six inches with smooth porcelain skin, a pretty face and shoulder length fair hair "You looked like you were in a world of your own. I thought you might jump out of the window."
"Thanks for stopping me." Jules said acidly.
The Ravenclaw shrugged, seemingly unoffended "It would have been quicker to push you. It might have been the only way I could have gotten my post sent in the next hundred years." Jules frowned as she tried to work out whether the girl was being serious or not. She wasn't smiling, but Jules had noticed that by and large, Ravenclaws tended toward a cool impassiveness that indicated that they had reached a higher plane of understanding. Knowing was their smiling. The girl stared back at her.
"I was joking."
Jules cocked an eyebrow "Thank God."
"Seriously though - if I leave, you're not going to jump out of the window are you?" She gestured once more to the letter in Jules's hand "That's not a suicide note, is it?"
"Aren't you a ray of sunshine?" Jules rolled her eyes "No, in spite of the fact that this conversation has left me feeling as though I would like to take my own life, you are quite safe to leave." The Ravenclaw blinked at her and Jules sighed.
"I was also joking."
"Oh. It was quite funny." The girl gave Jules an appraising look "I'm Helena."
Jules couldn't help herself "Your name is Helena?"
Helena sighed and Jules realised that this was undoubtedly the millionth time the younger girl had been asked that question. She hurriedly attempted to correct her faux pas "Like in Shakespeare?"
Helena gave Jules a look of surprised and grudging kudos "Yes. I'm Muggleborn so my parents had no idea about Helena Ravenclaw."
Jules nodded "I'm Jules, which is short for Juliet,-"
"- Like in Shakespeare." Helena finished for her and the girls gave each other a knowing grin. Helena stepped away from the window "Well, I have to get to Charms so I'm just going to have to take your word for it that I won't be the last person to see you alive."
Jules snorted "I won't let you down."
Helena gave her a nod and a brief wave before disappearing from the Owlery and Jules wondered if that conversation counted as making a new friend. She took her place at the window once more and began the business of attaching her letter to one of the school owls. Jules swore under her breath she struggled to keep the bird still – she had little affinity with animals, and as such during her early years at Hogwarts, trips to send a letter home via owl were often followed by trips to the Hospital Wing. After several small pecks, Jules glared at the back of the bird as it took off into the cold November air. She felt a pang of guilt as she remembered that her letter had failed to include the small fact that as of this week, her detention-free school career was no more. She thought it unlikely that Professor Sprout would think it necessary to write to Tabitha Spencer regarding the incident with the Tentacula so knew that at least for now, she was safe. But Jules hated lying to her mother and knew she would have to come clean eventually.
"Maybe when I go home for Summer," she muttered to herself absently, checking her watch and seeing that she was late for Arithmancy "I'll show her my NEWT marks and follow it up with 'By the way, I got a detention because I was thinking about a boy and a plant nearly killed me…'"
X
It was dark and the frost was already beginning to form by the time that Jules made her way to the Greenhouses for her detention with Professor Sprout. As she stomped across the grounds, Jules could see the glow of lights coming from the glass structure and hoped that this meant that she would at least be spending the evening in the warm. Professor Sprout was waiting for her with her usual friendly smile.
"I must confess I am still a little surprised at you, Miss Spencer. Unlike your partner for this evening, it's rather unusual for me to have to give you a detention."
Jules frowned "My partner, Professor?"
Professor Sprout selected two pairs of thick gloves from the cupboard and tossed one to her "Frederick Weasley will be joining you."
Jules felt her stomach plummet into her shoes and the colour drain from her face "Fred Weasley?"
"The very same." A jovial voice rang out behind her and Jules turned to see the grinning visage of the person who had seemingly taken up permanent residence in her mind of late. Her eyes drifted to his cheek where a small criss-cross of fresh scratches sat. The injury had done little to affect his mood however, and Fred stood before Jules and Professor Sprout with an enthused air about him "Good evening, Professor. It's been a long time since we had a detention together."
"It may disappoint you to know Mr Weasley, that you and I will not be serving this detention together and I'll thank you to keep your tone a little less casual when addressing a Professor." Professor Sprout tried to look stern, but the fond smile she gave Fred robbed her of any real disciplinary power. She threw him a pair of the thick gloves and as she turned back to the cupboard, Fred caught Jules's eye and winked. Jules felt her cheeks heat up and suddenly became very interested in her shoes.
Fred moved to stand by Professor Sprout, holding his arms out to take the various pieces of equipment she was digging from the cupboard "You mean you won't be overseeing tonight's disciplinary proceedings, Professor?"
Professor Sprout straightened and sent him a grin "Don't sound too pleased, Mr Weasley. I have a meeting to attend tonight and although ordinarily I wouldn't let you within a hundred feet of the Greenhouses unsupervised, I am quite confident that Miss Spencer here can keep you under control. Isn't that right, Miss Spencer?"
Jules opened her mouth to protest but before she could, the professor held out a pair of ear defenders "You will be needing these." Dumbfounded, Jules took the defenders and Professor Sprout beckoned them both the follow her to the back of the Greenhouse where some of the more volatile plants were kept in separate enclosures.
"Tonight," She explained, gesturing to one of the enclosures "One of you will be attempting to soothe the adolescent Mandrakes in the east enclosure . Hagrid has been complaining that their night-time activities have been upsetting his Fire-Crabs and I must confess, their parties have gotten rather out of hand. Try and remember that although the cry of an adolescent Mandrake cannot kill you, it will result in a few weeks of deafness that neither of you can afford so close to your NEWTS. The other of you will be pruning the Wiggentree over there." She gestured to the magical Rowan tree which took up most of the back of the Greenhouse "Be sure not to disturb the Bowtruckles living in it – they have been rather irritable of late. I trust you can decide between yourselves which task to complete. I will be back to retrieve you and lock the Greenhouses at midnight." The Professor smiled warmly at both of them "Good luck." And with that, she was gone.
Jules stared after the tiny woman as she strode away from the Greenhouses toward the castle. Nerves sending her stomach aflutter, she turned back to look at Fred, who was still smiling cheerfully.
"What are you doing here, Weasley?" She asked incredulously "How did you end up with a detention in a subject you don't even study?"
"My ability to attract disciplinary measures isn't limited to my own curriculum, Spencer." Fred grinned cheekily "Sometimes I just like to branch out. Keeps things interesting."
"What did you do?"
Fred shrugged "I may have released a few hundred Leaping Toadstools from their enclosure this morning during Umbridge's visit to the Greenhouse."
Jules stared at him in disbelief "You didn't." Fred only smirked at her "But why?"
The redhead shrugged "Maximum impact. It took nearly two hours to round them all up. Umbridge told Sprout that if I didn't receive appropriate discipline from the Herbology department, she would be only too happy to oblige. Professor Sprout has a soft spot for me, so…" he held up his hands in a 'What can I say?' sort of gesture.
"Is that where you got the...?" Jules gestured at the scratches on his cheek. He nodded and she raised her eyebrows "That was a lucky escape for you - I only sent my mother a letter about the Dittany this morning. Your hand would have been hanging off by the time it arrived if Umbridge had gotten hold of you again. Do you want the Mandrakes or the Bowtruckles?"
"Which are most likely to do my bidding?" Fred asked, then seeing Jules's glare he held up his hands "I'm joking!" He picked up the pruning shears that Professor Sprout had left them "I'll take the Bowtruckles if you don't mind. You'll look prettier in the ear defenders than I will."
Jules grimaced, picking up the ear defenders and placing them gingerly on her head whilst trying not to blush because he had called her pretty "Wish me luck." Her own voice sounded muffled. Fred gave her the thumbs up and she made her way toward the room where the Mandrakes were being kept. Stepping inside, she wished immediately that she had taken the Bowtruckles. A Mandrake party was in full swing; the room was heaving with the little blighters. Some were even swinging from the vines that were obscuring most of the ceiling. The pots they normally slept in were clustered on the trugg in front of her, some on their sides, the earth spilling out. It was chaos. Jules was suddenly reminded starkly of why she had avoided detentions during her time at Hogwarts and suddenly became disproportionately annoyed at the reason she had ended up breaking her six and a half year record. And what's more, that self-same reason for breaking said record was outside of this room most likely teaching Bowtruckles to retrieve sweets from the kitchens for him...
What was he doing here, anyway? Jules tried to push to the back of her mind the small fact that Fred had known that she would be in detention tonight. All he would have to do was get himself a detention with the same Professor on the same night and then they would be in each other's company for several hours...
No. That was ridiculous. Fred had merely been trying to get on Umbridge's nerves. Jules shook the thought from her head and began plucking the Mandrakes from their various perches and stuffing them forcefully back into their plant pots. They resisted heartily at first, and for the first few hours or so it was rather like trying to put an Octopus into a bag. Eventually, when the Mandrakes realised that Jules was unlikely to give up any time soon despite all the soil they had kicked into her face, they settled for sitting in their pots and howling, their faces sour and screwed up.
"I don't care if you don't like it." Jules knew she was speaking loudly in order to hear herself through the ear defenders "Go to sleep!" As she was saying the words, a sudden memory surfaced in her consciousness. Sitting with her father in front of the television - a muggle device that they only really used when her grandparents came at Christmas - watching Mary Poppins over and over again because Jules was fascinated by the way her muggle grandparents, who knew nothing of the wizarding world, happily submitted to watching the pretty dark-haired lady flying over London with her umbrella or jumping through the pavement to dance with penguins in a cafe. When she had asked her father why it was alright for Grandma and Grandad to see magic on the television when mummy had to hide her wand while they visited, he had smiled "You don't miss a thing, do you Juliet?" He explained that Mary Poppins wasn't really magic, but technology made to look like magic. It was what muggles imagined magic to look like.
As Jules had gotten older and started to understand magic better, she could see that the muggle interpretation of magic was deeply flawed and unrealistic. It didn't stop her from loving Mary Poppins and the memories of her father it evoked though. Right now, as she fought with the stubborn Mandrakes, she was reminded of the scene where the children wouldn't go to bed and, having exhausted all of her options including threatening them with a policeman, Mary Poppins simply sat back in her rocking chair with a curt 'Suit yourselves,' before crooning a lilting melody about trying to stay awake. Jules stared down at the Mandrakes, wondering if it was worth a try. They were after all, rather like toddlers. Opening her mouth hesitantly, hoping she could hold the tune with the ear defenders on, Jules began to sing:
'Stay awake, don't rest your head Don't lie down upon your bed While the moon drifts in the skies Stay awake, don't close your eyes…'
Though the world is fast asleep Though your pillow's soft and deep You're not sleepy as you seem Stay awake, don't nod and dream Stay awake, don't nod and dream...'
Hardly able to believe her good fortune with something as simple as reverse psychology, Jules spent a moment staring at the snoozing Mandrakes before she became aware of a presence in the doorway behind her. She turned to see Fred standing there, a look on his face she had never seen before. He had always had an open, laughing expression, but this was different. The mischievous grin was gone and there was something unguarded about the way he was looking at her, something completely without guile. His eyes were dark and serious, like they had been that night in the common room. Jules didn't know how long he had been standing there watching her and the look on his face rendered her speechless enough that when he walked toward her and gently removed the ear defenders from her head, she was unable to ask him what in the name of Merlin he thought he was doing, just as when he cupped her face softly in his hands and brought his lips down to capture hers, she was unable to form the words to tell him that he couldn't just walk over and kiss her like that.
It was different to when he had kissed her in the Room of Requirement. That kiss had been fraught and fierce and full of unspoken aggression and fire. This kiss, although admittedly just as passionate, was slower and more complex. Jules felt herself melt against Fred's body as he pulled her closer to him, arms wrapping around her as though he was trying to envelope her completely, to hold as much of her as possible. His lips seemed to be whispering some sweet secret against hers and Jules couldn't help but sigh when he captured her bottom lip between his teeth, lightly grazing it before running the tip of his tongue gently across it, tentatively seeking access. She sighed again and he took the opportunity to delve into her mouth and taste her fully. Every touch, every kiss, every caress was intense, sending fireworks beneath Jules's skin. When Fred's hand moved across her hip, nimble fingers skimming across a patch of exposed skin where her shirt had ridden up, she whimpered against his lips and he pulled her even closer, his kisses gaining some of the primal urgency that they had had before.
The sound of footsteps coming toward the room caused them to break apart guiltily, their breath laboured. Jules reached up self-consciously to pat at her hair while Fred backed away to a respectable distance, his eyes a little glazed. By the time that Professor Sprout appeared in the doorway, both had managed to arrange their faces into masks of benign innocence. The professor beamed first at the slumbering Mandrakes and then at Jules "Well done!" She whispered, pleased but careful not to wake them. She beckoned Fred and Jules outside, where Jules saw that Fred had made a surprisingly good job of the Wiggentree. She could spot a few Bowtruckles hopping about the branches looking annoyed, but overall the result was good. She tried to keep her attention on Professor Sprout as she and Fred were congratulated on a successfully executed detention, but her mind continually drifted back to the position she had been in just moments before.
Eventually, Sprout bade them goodnight and sent them on their way. Fred and Jules left the greenhouse and began to walk back toward the castle. Jules was suddenly tense again, remembering his keenness to agree with her the night before that that first kiss had been heat-of-the-moment and purely accidental. That excuse probably wouldn't work again, she thought balefully as the tension continued to grow between them the longer they were silent.
"Are you angry?" Fred's voice broke through her thoughts and Jules started a little, looking over to see him staring at her.
"Do I... look angry?"
"You're frowning quite a lot." Fred observed neutrally.
Jules sighed a little "I'm... trying to work out what just happened. I feel like I should be angry, but mostly I'm just confused."
Fred reached out and gently tugged on her arm to stop her walking. They stood facing each other in the middle of the grounds. The moon was high and huge, drenching everything in silvery light. Fred regarded her closely for a moment.
"I'm interested to know what's confusing you as I feel like it was pretty clear from where I was standing."
"OK then," Jules folded her arms "Why don't you explain it to me? Because from my perspective, I can't help but notice that you go and get yourself a detention with Sprout on the same night as me and then proceed to kiss me again without warning or preamble when I thought that we agreed that the first time we kissed didn't mean anything." She stared at him, too confused to continue any kind of charade "What am I supposed to think, Fred?"
"Forget what you're supposed to think - what do you actually think?" He was giving her that look again - the one he had been giving her before he kissed her in the greenhouse. There was an openness about it, an unwillingness to pretend. Jules paused – was this, and not the grinning joker, Fred Weasley's true face? Was he much more serious than she initially gave him credit for?
Jules shivered and wrapped her jacket tighter around her "I think... that you don't even like me. You've always been very clear about that. I don't think it's possible to change that on the strength of two good kisses. And I don't want to just... mess around." As she was saying the words, Jules was surprised by how deeply she felt them. How scared she was that someone like him might just use her and toss her aside.
Fred stared at her, his expression now pained "You think that's all I can do? 'Mess around'?" He sounded hurt "Jules, what else do I have to do to show you that I'm not messing around with you?" Jules opened her mouth to reply but he held up a hand to stop her.
"I got myself that detention because I thought it would give me a few hours to show you that I'm not a bad person and maybe after that you'd want to be around me a bit more. I didn't plan on kissing you tonight." He confessed awkwardly "I heard you singing to the Mandrakes and it was so amazing that I couldn't help it-" He stepped closer to her "I had to kiss you. It was skipping a few steps of the plan, but I still… meant it."
Jules stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. Her legs still felt like jelly from when he had kissed her, and now he was standing closer, she could see in vivid detail the constellation of freckles across his nose, the slight pout of his bottom lip. She swallowed hard and whispered "You… had a plan?"
Fred smiled slightly "Too right I had a plan. You don't court a lady of your calibre without a strategy, Spencer. Of course, I hadn't anticipated abandoning phases two, three and four of the plan in favour of kissing you simply because I couldn't stand not to any longer."
Jules felt her breath hitch in her throat "Oh." Was all she could manage. Fred Weasley had surprised her with his earnestness, his willingness to admit that he had feelings for her. One half of her was busy swooning over the raw romanticism of his words, while the other half couldn't help but try to pull away and construct a wall between them like she had done so many times before. She had spent too long feeling like an outcast for this to feel natural or good. She couldn't allow him to charm her this easily, could she?
Fred seemed to read her mind "But naturally," He said gently, reaching out to catch her hand and caress her palm softly with the tips of his fingers "That's no reason for me to assume that I won't have to work a little bit harder for you." Bringing her hand up to his lips he kissed it softly, his eyes never leaving hers "Let me take you out this weekend?"
Stunned by his ability to gauge what was worrying her as well as the warmth of his lips against the soft skin of the back of her hand, Jules felt her resolve begin to wither. Fred stared at her, waiting patiently for her answer. He seemed to glow in the moonlight.
Jules nodded.