FOURTEEN

AND POSSIBLY I LIKE THE THRILL
OF UNDER ME YOU SO QUITE NEW
E.E. CUMMINGS

THREE DAYS later - Christmas Eve - was when the house really became hectic. Molly Weasley was hurtling around the kitchen, making sure she had enough roast potatoes to choke a dragon with, and Arthur was subjected to fumbling after her, scribbling down a list of last minute items to buy. The rest of the household - apart from Remus, who was inside nursing a bottle of Wolfsbane for the full moon that evening - had dashed outside straight after breakfast for a fierce snowball fight.

It had been boys versus girls, a rule that Aspen had quickly decided she didn't mind even though they were slightly outnumbered. Ginny proved to be especially brutal, and absolutely obliterated her brothers with snowballs and insults from the very beginning. She'd had a soft spot for Harry, and noticeably targeted him less, but that didn't stop her from throwing the occasional mound of snow in his direction too. Fleur was also incredibly capable, and although it took her a little while to warm up to the game, she became fiercely competitive as soon as Bill had sent ice flying down the back of her jumper. Alessia just seemed happy to be included in the big family, for she'd never had a proper snowball fight like this, and seemed content just to take part in the festivities.

Aspen had mostly stayed on the sidelines, watching the boys get pummelled by Ginny's incredible aim. She had no doubt that this was why she proved to be a star Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, imagining she would have no trouble putting the Quaffle through the goals almost every time. It was this stream of thoughts that distracted her long enough for the twins to ambush her at the very same time, and before she knew it, she had been pelted in the face with freezing cold snow.

She shrieked, a shiver racing up her spine at the shock of the chill. Beside her, the two boys were laughing hysterically, and she had the right mind to grab her wand and hex them into the new year. As she swiped the snow from her eyelashes, teeth chattering, she missed the vaguely worried look on Fred's face as he realised he might have hurt her. If it did, he'd never know, because in the very next second she'd bent over to scoop up a generous pile of snow and launched it in his direction.

"Serves you right, Weasley," she called over her shoulder, bolting away to avoid another hit. As she went, she bewitched another bundle of snowballs to fly after the twins, who she could hear yelping over her shoulder - "bloody hell, woman!"

After that, while the rest trundled inside in their sodden clothes and received a harsh scolding for dripping melted snow all over the kitchen tiles, Aspen, Fred and George got ready for work. They'd apparated into the apartment, ready to open up shop as soon as Verity arrived - they were opening late for the holidays. George was smirking like a little boy in a sweet shop, hoping someone would mention the awkward kiss from the night before, but Fred and Aspen ignored it as if it had never happened. Instead, she disappeared into the kitchen to make lunch, appreciative of the distraction.

"Any requests?" She asked, looking hopefully back at them as they wandered into the kitchen behind her. Admittedly, there wasn't much choice, as the shelves were fairly sparse considering they were living back home for the time being.

"Not like we have much choice," George said, following her over to open the fridge and look around for ingredients. "Surprise me. I'll go open up with Verity and take lunch in an hour or so. I reckon mum's huge breakfast has finished me off for a while."

"Oh," Aspen said, nodding curtly although she was admittedly worried. She wasn't sure what time alone with Fred would be like now. "Alright. See you down there then."

George departed, his long legs carrying him quickly down the stairs until they were left with only the memory of him. Fred and Aspen were alone in the kitchen. She couldn't quite bare facing him yet, so she kept her face buried in the fridge, giving her a little second to think of a distraction.

"I don't think I can work with ketchup and gherkins," she said, turning to face him with the two items in either hand.

"You never know. Might be a sick combination," he teased, although the grimace on his face suggested otherwise.

"Might make us sick, you mean. Why don't we eat out? We can bring something back for George," she said, tossing the food she was holding back into the fridge and closing it behind her with a definitive thud. "I've got a couple shopping bits I need to pick up last minute."

"Did you forget to buy me a present?" He said, eyes wide in feigned shock as he held a hand against his chest.

"Oh, you think you're getting one, do you?" She said, and they both laughed before grabbing their coats and heading out.

This was nice. It was like normal again, before they'd kissed or had any of the Weasley family interjecting about their supposed relationship. This was friendship, and it was how they were meant to be. Sure, the feeling of his hand on her thigh had sent tingles up her spine, and under different circumstances, there was a part of her that would quite like to kiss him all over again, but she was chalking that down to hormones and the fact she hadn't kissed a boy in a long, long time. Fred Weasley was a friend, and that was all.

They stopped at Sugarplum's on their way past so that Aspen could buy a few extra treats for Alessia. Already, she'd bought (and meticulously wrapped) her sister the entire Wonder Witch range, a brand new Wizard Chess set, and a sparkling ruby necklace that had blown at least half of her budget for Christmas presents. Still, a few extra sweets could never hurt, and while she was there she bought some chocolate frogs for Ginny, Harry and Ron, knowing they liked to collect the cards.

On the street, there was a small, haggard looking witch selling jewellery who called them over hopefully. Aspen, who felt bad for the witch's lack of business, approached, despite Fred tugging at her sleeve and saying he was "bloody starving". There were beautifully intricate rings and bracelets, all real silver apparently mined in Romania. Aspen admired one ring in particular, noticing its little yellow gem in the centre that reminded her fondly of her Hogwarts house. Not in the position to be buying things for herself, she returned it to the table before picking up a simple silver bracelet instead.

"D'you think Fleur would like this?" She asked Fred, eying the thin chain that held up a delicate blue gem in the centre. It sparkled magnificently in the early afternoon sun, and finding it so gorgeous, she knew she had to buy it for someone.

"What the hell are you wanting to buy something for Fleur for?" Fred laughed, visibly taken aback at Aspen's simple question. "You hardly bloody know her, Pen."

"I know, I know," she said softly, brushing her fingers across the chain. The woman behind the counter seemed to be becoming impatient. "I just feel bad. I worry she won't get gifts from the others, apart from Bill, of course. There's nothing worse than being left out on Christmas."

Fred laughed, and she could tell he was incredulous at her generosity. Still, he nodded, moving closer behind Aspen to take a better look at the bracelet in her hand. She could feel his breath against the back of her neck, and it made her shiver at how very close he was standing, his chest practically pressed against her back.

"The gem is from the French coast," the witch grumbled, not sounding very enthusiastic about her job out in the chilly snow-dusted street. "Very nice quality."

"It's perfect," Aspen said, even more thrilled by the connection to the French witch. "I'll take it!"

"Three galleons and fifteen sickles," the woman grunted, and Aspen was surprised at the price, having expected it to be far more expensive. She quickly retrieved the money, noticing Fred was becoming increasingly restless behind her as he bounced around on his heels.

Content with her purchases, the pair wandered further down the street towards a little fish and chip shop. By now, they had around forty-five minutes left of their lunch break, and Fred was positively ravenous. They quickly ordered for themselves, and another meal for George - Aspen trusted that Fred wasn't lying when he said his twin's favourite meal was chicken and mushroom pie. They waited by the window as the wizard behind the counter served it up and wrapped it in newspaper. Much to her annoyance, Fred paid before she even had the chance to, and she grumbled all the way back to the apartment about how he "needed to stop doing that!"

They flopped down at the kitchen table and dug in straight away, tearing apart the battered fish hungrily. There was silence for the first few minutes as they ate, too busy to converse anyway, but as they slowed and began to take their time, picking away lazily at their chips, the awkward tension from the night before began to seep in slowly.

"So, the explosions from your room?" Aspen asked, in reference to the loud bangs that had woken her and Fleur at half-twelve the previous night.

Fred's face lit up, and he swallowed down his bite of fish fervently, clearly eager to talk.

"Sorry 'bout that! It used to piss Percy off to no end, but he's a prat so it didn't matter," Fred joked. "S'just me and George working on a new product. Some sort of floating fragrance. We haven't got a name for it just yet, though."

"I'll never understand where you think these things up," she said, shaking her head in awed disbelief. "It's genius."

"Cheers." He looked awfully pleased with himself at her compliment. His spare hand, which had been resting on his knee, crossed to her thigh, and he squeezed her leg briefly beneath the table. It reminded her of the night he had accidentally kissed her, and her breath hitched in her throat. "Although admittedly you inspired us. Y'said you wished you could fly and float around, but you're shit on a broom. Remember?"

"Oh, wow. You remembered that?" She smiled, her insides warm and fuzzy at the very notion they'd be thoughtful enough to consider her silly ramblings for even more than a second.

"'Course. I like listen- I mean we like listening to you. You're funny," he said, the fish and chips they were eating abandoned on the table as they turned to face each other, losing themselves in the conversation as their hunger subsided.

She snorted, rolling her eyes at his compliment. He was more serious than he usually was, and it was the authenticity of his statement that made her heart thump against her chest. They were so close, she could feel his knee against hers, and she felt like a little kid excited about holding hands again. Desperate to escape the feeling, whatever it was, she picked up her glass and took it to the sink to refill it.

"That's a compliment coming from the joke shop owner himself," she teased, her voice wavering a little bit as she switched on the tap, letting the water run before filling up her glass with shaky hands.

"I mean it. We wouldn't have hired you otherwise," he said, standing up after her. This was not the plan, she thought, as he moved closer again.

"You, you mean. You hired me," she said, quieter than before as her voice fell away from her. "George wasn't really a part of the process."

"I knew you were perfect the second I saw you," he said, and she felt that he meant it in more ways than one.

She had her back pressed against the counter now, and she quickly placed the glass of water down in fear that she would drop it straight onto the tile floor otherwise. His eyes met hers and never faltered, and she was dizzy with nerves as he stepped closer, not even a half foot of distance between them.

"Fred," she started warily, her hands holding her steady on the countertop. "Is this about the other night because I-"

"Aspen," he stopped her, and immediately the words disappeared from her, her mouth falling slack as she could do nothing but stare. "Can I kiss you again? Properly this time."

She nodded before she could stop herself. She knew she shouldn't, but as soon as he'd closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers for the second time that week, she melted away. Her fingers were in his hair, holding him close to her, and his hands were on her hips, holding her up as her knees went weak with elation. It was a good thing she was still pressed tightly against the countertop, or she was sure she would have fell to the floor with shock.

The time fell away from them, and she had no idea how long it had been as she lost herself to Fred's touch. This felt so entirely wrong, especially considering George and Verity were slogging away downstairs at work, but she couldn't bring herself to retract herself from his embrace. It was only when there was an exaggerated cough from the doorway that they pulled apart.

George Weasley stood there, leaning smugly against the doorframe as he smirked. Aspen immediately stood straighter, as if she were about to be told off by a schoolteacher, but George was anything but angry. In fact, he looked entirely amused, and let out a little snort of laughter at the mortified expressions on the duo's faces.

"What a way to be greeted," he teased, striding into the kitchen as if he were entirely unfazed. "I s'pose Bill owes me five galleons."

And with that, he sat down at the table and tucked into his pie, which had been enchanted to stay warm. Fred and Aspen ran out of the room, avoiding eye contact as George called out after them, something about "send Verity up for her lunch too, you dirty sods!" Yet still, despite the outrageously awkward encounter, they giggled like school-kids who'd been caught in the act as they descended the stairs, and both of them seemed almost too delighted to care.

Although their first kiss may have been an accident, their second certainly was not.