When The Crushes Started

Eleven year old Harry Potter sat in the breakfast hall, his friends long neglecting him as they talked away to their neighboring classmates.

Hermione let out a few giggles as she talked to a girl named Amanda, and Ron was discussing some weird wizarding game with Seamus and Dean.

Harry sighed, picking at his eggs. They didn't seem appetizing anymore to the (almost) pre-teen as he sat isolated.

Then, someone slid into the empty spot next to him.

"Hello, Harrikins, it's George at your presence." A familiar voice teased lightly, the plate next to him slowly filling itself.

Harry smiled softly, looking up at the taller Weasley twin.

"Hi." He let out a small laugh.

"Nice to see you at breakfast, Fred."

The twin's face stood still in shock for a minute, mouth opened a crack, and eyes widened.

"T-that's right." He stammered, amazed at how their own mother could barely tell them apart, yet, an eleven year old boy (who has only known them for about a few weeks, if. It a month, mind you) could tell them apart easily.

"How'd you do that?" Fred then demanded, Harry gave him a grin.

"I'll tell you if you do me a favor!" He stated, grinning wider as he popped a few blueberries into his mouth.

Fred grinned back.

"A favor you say?" He asked playfully, leaning closer to Harry.

Harry's cheeks tinged pink, but the raven haired boy nodded.

"And what would this, so called, favor be them?" Fred questioned, making Harry chuckle.

"Be my friend." Harry asked, looking into Fred's eyes now.

Fred stopped for a moment, looking into his eyes.

They seemed to sparkle like gems, the color close to a Green Alexandrite. (The picture at top of work!)

"Deal." Fred said after a few minutes of looking into his eyes.

Harry, who was now red in the cheeks, took Fred's hand. The small hand clasping the larger one securely, and then shaking it firmly.

Fred smiled.

"You got quite the grip there. Now spill. How did you know I wasn't George?" Fred pressed, slipping a strawberry into his mouth. His lips turning upwards again at the sweet taste.

Harry smiled back at him.

"Your eyes. George's eyes resemble more of a pranking, mysterious look to them. Meanwhile, your eyes hold some deep emotions in them. Also, the fact that the edge of your Iris seems to be rimmed with a bronze color. I believe George has more of a golden."

Harry explained, blushing a little as he spoke with each word.

Fred smirked.

"Bronze, huh?" He paused, "Well, thank you Harry. I'm quite flattered." Fred stated, starting to stand up.

"Wait!" Harry said, Fred looked at him.

"You're my friend still, right?" He asked quietly, Harry's eyes full of contradicting emotions.

Fred's eyes softened.

"Yeah. I'll always be your friend." Fred promised, sticking his hand out. Harry gratefully took it. His lips twitching upwards as they both shook hands.

'What's this weird feeling in my chest?' Harry thought.

'I don't get this feeling with anyone else. Not even with Mum.' Fred thought, his arm shooting up in soft, electrical sparks. And his cheeks heating up.