THIRTY-SIX

LIFE ALWAYS HAS SOME
SURPRISES UP ITS SLEEVE
AVIJEET DAS

RAIN DRIPPED idly down the window panes that late October evening, although Aspen was determined not to let it dampen the atmosphere. Fred lazed back nearby the kitchen table, a position he'd been driven into the second they'd finished their shift at the shop that evening. While George and Verity were closing the store, the elder twin kept his girlfriend company in the kitchen as she rustled up dinner, dedicating herself to the comfort foods the boys had grown up indulging in.

Fred observed as she cooked. He always liked to watch her, the way she slid across the kitchen tiles so effortlessly, stirring pots and scrubbing dirty dishes ever so gracefully, following the steps she'd been trained to perform. She'd always been at home there, shoulders unclenched and lips upturned as she did something she truly enjoyed.

"D'you need any help?" he asked just as she poured a tinful of kidney beans into her pot of chilli.

"Have I not told you already?" she retorted, spinning to point her wooden spoon in his direction, like some sort of kitchen time interrogation. "You need to relax! Sit back and look pretty, alright?"

He grinned, teeth gleaming beneath the dim overhead lamplight.

"Easy job for me then."

She rolled her eyes, returning to the task at hand with a goofy grin on her lips. It was sweet how willing he was to help, but her intentions for the evening had been to allow the over-worked pair to wind down for once.

As she stirred away, sifting ingredients in every so often, Fred disappeared momentarily to the living room in search of music to play. He'd carted over some of his favourite muggle vinyls from Aspen's house, and after only minutes of silence, the wild sounds of The Cure fluttered through the speakers, which he had magically amplified to echo around the entire flat.

"I love this one!" Aspen commented, twirling on her heel to face her boyfriend — the food could wait, boiling away self-sufficiently now anyway.

Fred swept closer across the floor, socks sliding on the tiles as he gripped onto Aspen's hands, pulling her in to his arms. She was always surprised by how rhythmically talented he was, never missing a beat as he flailed out dramatically, twisting and turning her around the small kitchen. He didn't seem to care that she trampled on his toes every so often, and rather, sang enthusiastically along to the words — "stole the only girl I loved and drowned her deep inside of me!" — as he bounced along the floor.

He had a special knack of distracting her from everything else but him. Before Fred Weasley, Aspen had never even imagined that a love that strong would even be possible, but there she was, drowning in her adoration for him as they danced the night away.

"No offence," he said as the song came to an end, his cheeks beetroot from the exertion and the kitchen's heat. "But your sister's a much better dancer than you."

"Prick!" Aspen exclaimed, smacking his bicep with the tea-towel she'd just lifted from the countertop. Still, she couldn't help but laugh, and pulled him in for one more kiss before returning to her cooking.

By the time everything was done, it was almost six-thirty, and the shop should have been closed for at least half an hour. Aspen — with the reluctant help of Fred — had set the table, laying out vast dishes of chilli and lasagne across the tablecloth. Still, with everything ready to eat, there was no sign of either George or Verity, who were normally both very prompt in cashing up and closing the store for the evening.

"The shop wasn't that messy when we left, was it?" Aspen said after five more minutes of waiting.

"It's a Wednesday night, love, it was hardly busy enough to be that bad," Fred retorted, scratching the back of his head as he searched for an explanation.

Aspen felt her heart plummet into the depths of her stomach, and suddenly, all sense of logic had crashed through the window and onto the street below. She stood up immediately, scrabbling around for her wand as she formulated an emergency plan in her mind.

"D'you think everything's okay?" she asked worriedly, twisting the thin acacia wood in her palm as she pondered what to do.

"Of course it is," Fred said, but admittedly his glee-stricken expression seemed to have dimmed ever-so-slightly too. "Shall we go check on them? Just to be safe?"

They abandoned the steaming dishes in the kitchen, letting them cool as they exited the flat and quietly descended the stairs down towards the store. They each gripped their wands in one hand, and in the other, grasped onto each other tightly, fingers interlocked for necessary moral support. If, in some horrific turn of events, Aspen's worst fear had somehow come true, she wasn't sure she would be able to stomach it alone (or at all, for that matter).

They did a whole loop of the store and found nothing. Not a single trace of human life remained, just the neatly stacked shelves and very occasional out of place product that had been deserted in the aisles and not yet replaced. The sign in the window read closed and the door was locked, so it was obvious the pair had been near recently. If only they could find where.

"Maybe they're in the office?" Fred suggested, more relaxed now although his wand was still poised and ready.

"Unless they went out to run an errand?" Aspen said, conjuring up possibilities to make sense of their disappearance. "Let's check the office first."

But before they could ascend the stairs again, a deep groan echoed through the corridor. Aspen and Fred jolted at the surprise, gripping onto each other in momentary fear. Then, with common sense returning, there was a realisation that the mysterious noise had erupted from their left. The stock room.

"George," they said in unison, having made the connection simultaneously.

"Do you think he's hurt?" Aspen asked, eyes wide as they glanced between each other and the door, beneath which the tiniest sliver of yellowed light emerged.

"Follow me," Fred said, leaving her question to settle around them as he grimaced at the thought.

His hand was back in hers, squeezing comfortingly as he lead her towards the door. Although neither of them would vocalise it, something in the air felt odd, as if they were not to be there, and it made Aspen particularly on edge. Her fingers gripped her wand, and in her head, she silently ran through the defensive spells she'd learnt all those years ago at school.

Fred was the one to push the door open, maintaining his 'manly', protective front. Aspen sidled along behind him, heart beating against her chest and remorseful that she would never be quite as brave as her boyfriend.

The light from the stock room flooded the hall, and with it, the obvious heavy breaths and lustful praise that poured from George Weasley's mouth. Over the tip of Fred's shoulder, Aspen could clearly make out that he was not hurt after all — in fact, it was quite the opposite. Verity was on her knees before him, his fingers threaded through her hair and his eyes half-lidded, observing her adoringly. Verity's head moved against him, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders with the steady pace. She was even certain she'd seen his work slacks pooled around his ankles, but before she could truly confirm it, Fred had slapped his hand over her eyes, diving her into an immediate darkness.

"Fucking hell! Get out!"

"What's happ— oh fuck!"

"You dirty gits! At least use the flat!"

It all happened very fast, and without the benefit of sight, Aspen found it difficult to distinguish exactly what was going on. It wasn't until she felt the gust of air that accompanied the door slamming that she was blessed with her fifth sense again, and she suddenly came face to face with an entirely mortified Fred.

"Don't think you needed to see all that, sweetheart," Fred said awkwardly, and delved his hand back into hers, tugging her quickly towards the stairs. "They said they'd be right up."

Aspen fought back a terrible fit of the giggles as they climbed the steps, hurrying into the flat and back towards the kitchen. Inside, the table was still set, and the food was just warm enough to still be deemed edible. Failing to hide the amused grin on her lips, Aspen turned her back to Fred, who was still flushed and abash, and cast a warming spell across the dishes.

The couple sat at the table in silence, although the more time ticked past, the more uncomfortably hysterical they both seemed to find the whole situation. The official status of George and Verity had been sitting on a precipice, and everyone around them knew it was only a matter of time until their romance was confirmed. It had seemed more likely they'd have told them rather than showed them first, though.

Verity appeared first, entering the room looking so sheepish Aspen almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Then again, Aspen didn't go around giving sexual favours to her boyfriend in the stock room, and at that reminder, her sympathy seemed to melt away like winter ice in springtime.

"Alright, Verity? Where's George?" Aspen said brightly from her space at the table, acting almost as if nothing had happened at all.

"He's just coming," she said quickly, and then seemed to turn even redder when Fred stifled a laugh at her poor word choice. It seemed he had recovered quickly from the situation, and was now more than prepared to poke numerous jokes at the pair's expense.

Verity slipped into her seat at the table, averting her eyes from the couple and choosing instead to pay particular attention to the checked pattern of the tablecloth. Fred nudged Aspen from beneath the table, shooting her a delighted grin, but she rolled her eyes, shaking her head hurriedly in an attempt to discourage him from any further teasing.

George arrived not too long after, his hands positioned oddly over his lap as he hurried into the only spare seat available beside Verity. For several seconds, there was sheer silence. Not even the streets outside made a sound, and Aspen began to wonder if she'd miraculously become deaf. It wasn't until Fred shuffled vaguely in his seat, the legs of his chair scraping against the tiles, that she was pulled from beneath the crushing weight of discomfort and propelled into jumpstarting the conversation again.

"Shall we dig in then? Molly told me you love chilli, George, and I know lasagne's your favourite, Ver," Aspen said, reaching out to grab a slice from the bowl of the tiger bread, buttering it thoroughly as the blood pounded in her ears.

Aspen wasn't aware that a silence that penetrating could even exist. They all worked in perfect motion, a well-oiled machine as they slopped dinner onto their plates and poured juice into their cups. Still, the air was so thick with tension that she worried she might choke upon it, and desperately, she found herself playing the part of mediator.

"So how was closing? Anything exciting happen?" she asked hopefully as she carved out a corner of the lasagne on her plate.

George and Verity seemed to be purposely avoiding eye contact, and although they sat beside one another, they were rigid in their seats, arms glued to their sides to ensure they wouldn't graze one another. It would almost be comical if it weren't for the dreadful awkwardness that came hand in hand with it.

"It was good. Another couple hundred at least in the till," George said, swallowing down an over-generous mouthful of his dinner. He paused, the cogs working in his head practically visible as he considered what next to say. Then, in what seemed a moment of reckless abandon, he continued. "Verity was brilliant. Talked to this couple for at least a half hour, I think they alone spent a hundred Galleons or so!"

Verity cheeks had remained permanently flushed, but now she almost resembled a sunburnt holiday-goer, bright red in the cheeks from the compliment. Even Fred looked impressed, shooting her a broad smile from across the table. Verity was never the one to drive the larger sales, usually remaining in her safe spot behind the register for the majority of her shifts.

"Go on, Ver! That's incredible," Aspen said encouragingly, reaching out for her glass of orange juice. "How'd you manage that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Verity said, shrugging modestly. "They were really easygoing — I just talked them into it all, I s'pose."

"Well done, V," Fred joined in, although Aspen soon regretted the mouthful of juice she'd gulped down at the sight of the delighted grin on his face. "You've always been good with your mouth."

It took everything in her to resist the urge of spitting juice all over the table, whether it was shock or humour that had encouraged her to do so. Fred seemed to regret his distasteful joke as soon as George lashed out, harshly kicking his twin's shin beneath the table. Verity looked the most mortified she had yet, and Aspen was certain if things carried on, she would likely keel over and die an early death.

"Wine anyone?" Aspen said, jolting up from the table and letting the legs of her chair scrape back discordantly across the tiles. "I think I need some wine."

As she darted over to the cupboard where she had earlier stored a convenient bottle of Merlot, she silently cursed Fred for his inability to withhold a poorly timed joke. Trust him to ruin the mood they'd just reassembled, she thought, and as she turned back to the table, already unscrewing the bottle's cap, she noticed the terrifying glower that graced George's features. If looks could kill, Fred would already be six feet under.

"No need for that, mate," George said sourly, pushing his plate away as if he'd suddenly lost his appetite. "I know it was stupid timing but... well, Verity's my girlfriend. Sometimes you do stupid things when you really like someone."

Aspen couldn't find the time to let the awkwardness swallow her whole anymore, because if she'd heard correctly, George had admitted to something they'd all been waiting for for a very long time.

"Girlfriend?" she sputtered, almost dropping the wine bottle onto the tiles. "Really?"

"Really," Verity said rather meekly, still recovering from the evening's embarrassment, but a soft smile played on her lips at the younger twin's impromptu announcement.

"Merlin," Fred said, eyes wide with wicked glee. "About time! Congrats you two!"

The twins stood in perfect unison, perhaps some act of twin telepathy in action, and Fred clapped his brother on the shoulder, hauling him into that sort of brotherly hug that all boys seemed to have innately engrained into their repertoire.

"Since when?" Aspen asked excitedly, resuming her space at the table and swiftly unscrewing the wine's cap.

"The evening you left us alone in the shop was when we talked, wasn't it, love?" George asked, slipping comfortably into his place beside Verity and reaching out to intertwine his fingers with hers. "But I reckon we've only been official for about two weeks."

"Oh, I'm so happy for you guys," Aspen said, beaming brightly at them. George and Verity's relationship was yet another thing to add to the list of brilliant happenings as of late. "About time you weren't third wheeling anymore, Georgie."

"Oh please, it's always been him that's the missing part to our glorious friendship, Pen," George teased, and while Fred pouted, the rest of them laughed.

They returned to their dinner, chatting as normally as could be expected from the lot of them. This was nice. The ice had well and truly been broken, and although the incident was something Aspen was sure would scar her nightmares, it was long forgotten by the cheery mood they'd quickly assembled now.

"I suppose the wine really is necessary now," Aspen said brightly, grabbing her wand and waving it carelessly to summon four glasses. "I definitely think this calls for a celebration."

George scoffed, although he was obviously ecstatic the news had gone down well following the embarrassment from earlier. Instead of accepting the wine, he reached for his own wand — although, he used his left, as his dominant hand was still wrapped tightly in Verity's — and summoned two beers, which swept out of the fridge and over to the table in a flurry.

"You're mental if you think we're trying that stuff again," he said, turning up his nose at the burgundy liquid, of which the two girls had now poured generous amounts into their glasses. "It's like bloody poison!"

Fred wholeheartedly agreed, and showed his concurrence in popping off the caps with his wand and lifting his respective bottle into the air dramatically. The others followed suit, and they clinked bottle necks and glass flutes joyfully.

"To George and Verity," Fred called cheerfully, and George leant over to press a sweeping kiss against Verity's cheek. "May the rest of your relationship be even half as good as your stockroom consummation seemed."

Verity's violently pink cheeks were back in action, and George looked ready to hex his brother into a new dimension. Aspen slammed her elbow into her boyfriend's ribs, groaning at his inappropriate joke.

"For fuck's sake, Fred!"

But then again, there was the glint of mischief in her eyes that told him she didn't half mind the joke. After all, a blowjob in the workplace was pretty funny.

merry christmas! i hope you all enjoy the holidays whether you're celebrating or not!
this one is for @rxmione especially bc of her love for george/verity!