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Description
Blue mists clung lightly to the ground as I stepped to the tent. I didn't know why I was so nervous, it's not like I hadn't been to a Weasley party before. There was a slight pressure on my chest that I didn't recognize, and my palms were sweaty.

I hadn't seen any of these people in months. It was a bit nerve wracking to see what might have happened to my boys, and Ginny and Hermione of course.

I'd been nervous in the past - this was something else.

I quickly wiped my hands on my blue dress and looked around. I tried to seek out the two untidy tufts of red hair that always made me feel reassured, but it seemed as if every head in the place was ginger. I couldn't tell Weasley from Weasley. I frowned and turned this way and that, looking more desperately. I stood on the tips of my toes, trying to glimpse over all the dancing bodies on the floor.

A pair of strong hands grabbed my hips from behind. A familiar laugh resounded as I was spun in circles.

"George," I shrieked. "Stop!"

I was lowered to the ground, laughing happily. I turned to see a tall red haired boy- a man really- with a cheerful smile.

"Hullo Poppy!"

I smiled ecstatically back. "Hello Georgie! I missed you… George, why is there a bandage on your head?"

Just as he was about to reply, a musical voice drifted to and filled my ears.

"What's all this then?"

I turned on my heel, heart fluttering. Fred stood there, hands in pockets, a mischievous smile tugging on the edges of his lips.

"He's not George, I'm George. Honestly woman, you call yourself my best friend," he said, raising his eyebrows.

"No you're not," I said softly. I took a step toward him "You've got that scar right there." I reached up and stroked the place just above his left eyebrow. Suddenly, our arms were around each other, and the slight smell of his cologne engulfed me.

"Missed you, Poppy." He said from in my hair.

"Missed you too, Freddie."

From the corner of my eye, I saw George sneak off to the dance floor.

I pulled away slightly. "Is everyone alright?" I whispered in his ear. I had to stand on the tips of my toes to reach it, which was rather disheartening. Throughout our lives, Fred and George and I had always pledged to be equal. Even though I knew I couldn't have the same bond with them that they had with each other, they tried their best to include me. And now I'm short.
Petty, I know, to hate yourself for your height and the disadvantage it might have given you, but it meant something to me.

"Yeah, Poppy. Everyone's fine, everything is fine. Other than George's ear, but no one liked that ear anyway."

"What? His ear? How did- what happened?"

"He went and got it blown off. Then he made a bad joke about it! It was absolutely atrocious."

"Fred Weasley! Your brother got his ear blown off and you care about the joke he told?"

"Just trying to get that look of your face, love."

A sudden blush spread over my cheeks, which embarrassed me even further. Not that any one knew it, but Fred had always had a special place in my heart. I loved George as a brother, of course, but Fred… there was something about him. Something that startled me and entranced me, from the first time I met him on the Hogwarts Express. Him and his brother sat in my compartment. My compartment. Little muggle-born eleven year old me, acne faced and shy, my long hair pulled back in a sort of farewell braid by my mother. They shoved their way into my compartment without asking, jostling each other and giggling.. Fred sat to my right, and George to my left.

"Hullo! I'm Fred Weasley."

"And I'm George. Pretty braid you've got."

I blushed furiously, trying to bury my nose in my chest.

"Can I touch it?"

My head instantly snapped up, and I turned to my right. Wide-eyed, I stared at this strange little ginger boy. Surley he wasn't serious.

"Please?"

His hand reached out, and touched my hair cautiously. I'm sure that he thought I would strike him.

"What's your name?"

"Poppy Blackburn."

He seemed to turn that over in his mind a few times. He stroked my hair once, and pulled back his hand.

"It really is pretty," Fred said, arching an eyebrow. "Wanna turn it pink?"

McGonagall seemed rather distraught at first when the short pink-headed girl was sorted to her house, but as my hair slowly faded back to it's normal hue, she seemed to accept me happily.

I looked up to Fred's smiling face, ignoring the butterflies making a vortex in my stomach.

"What was the joke?"

"About being hole- y."

I cringed. "There is an entire world of ear humour… I personally would have gone with an irritable one."

"That's my Poppy!" he exclaimed happily, punching my arm lightly. His whole face brightened and stars suddenly lit his eyes. An internal light shone through his skin. His pink lips pulled themselves wide in an amazing smile. His sudden emotion took my breath away. I smiled back. Something was suspended between us for a moment - something that send a wild charge from the crown of my head to my stomach… then lower.

"Uhm," Fred looked down at his feet. He mumbled something. "doyamaybewantogoinside?"

"What?" I blinked rapidly, trying to rid my head of the electric feeling.

"Do you want to go inside?" His mouth turned back up slightly in a smile. "It's a bit uh, humid here."

"I would love that."

We quickly escaped the confines of the tent, almost breaking out into a run. We stumbled into the dimly-lit kitchen, giggling like first years.

"I'm pretty sure Mum has extra treckle tart in here somewhere, I know it's your favorite, Pop."

A few rustling sounds came from the cabinets. Something fell and a muffled curse escaped his mouth.

"Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"Can't we just Accio them?"

"…And that's why we keep you around."

He raised his wand, and a small plate of the tarts came whizzing to us. He caught them nimbly, and offered them to me.

"For you, m'lady?"

I curtsied and plucked one from the plate and ate it.

"T'would be my pleasure, good sir."

"I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine." he said, picking up one for himself. His eyes flickered up to mine cautiously as he ate. I could tell that he was mulling something over in his head as he chewed.

"Don't think too hard, Freddie, you may turn into Percy."

Something seemed resolved then, and his face hardened. Before I even realized what he was doing, he leaned foreword and kissed me. His lips tasted like sugar. He seemed urgent, pressing himself against me hard. And before I realized what I was doing, I kissed him back. His hand found it's way to the side of my face, and mine tangled in his hair.

We broke apart for a moment to catch a breath of air. Hand still in his hair, I stroked it happily

"Your hair is pretty. Wanna turn it pink?"

Description
Blue mists clung lightly to the ground as I stepped to the tent. I didn't know why I was so nervous, it's not like I hadn't been to a Weasley party before. There was a slight pressure on my chest that I didn't recognize, and my palms were sweaty.

I hadn't seen any of these people in months. It was a bit nerve wracking to see what might have happened to my boys, and Ginny and Hermione of course.

I'd been nervous in the past - this was something else.

I quickly wiped my hands on my blue dress and looked around. I tried to seek out the two untidy tufts of red hair that always made me feel reassured, but it seemed as if every head in the place was ginger. I couldn't tell Weasley from Weasley. I frowned and turned this way and that, looking more desperately. I stood on the tips of my toes, trying to glimpse over all the dancing bodies on the floor.

A pair of strong hands grabbed my hips from behind. A familiar laugh resounded as I was spun in circles.

"George," I shrieked. "Stop!"

I was lowered to the ground, laughing happily. I turned to see a tall red haired boy- a man really- with a cheerful smile.

"Hullo Poppy!"

I smiled ecstatically back. "Hello Georgie! I missed you… George, why is there a bandage on your head?"

Just as he was about to reply, a musical voice drifted to and filled my ears.

"What's all this then?"

I turned on my heel, heart fluttering. Fred stood there, hands in pockets, a mischievous smile tugging on the edges of his lips.

"He's not George, I'm George. Honestly woman, you call yourself my best friend," he said, raising his eyebrows.

"No you're not," I said softly. I took a step toward him "You've got that scar right there." I reached up and stroked the place just above his left eyebrow. Suddenly, our arms were around each other, and the slight smell of his cologne engulfed me.

"Missed you, Poppy." He said from in my hair.

"Missed you too, Freddie."

From the corner of my eye, I saw George sneak off to the dance floor.

I pulled away slightly. "Is everyone alright?" I whispered in his ear. I had to stand on the tips of my toes to reach it, which was rather disheartening. Throughout our lives, Fred and George and I had always pledged to be equal. Even though I knew I couldn't have the same bond with them that they had with each other, they tried their best to include me. And now I'm short.
Petty, I know, to hate yourself for your height and the disadvantage it might have given you, but it meant something to me.

"Yeah, Poppy. Everyone's fine, everything is fine. Other than George's ear, but no one liked that ear anyway."

"What? His ear? How did- what happened?"

"He went and got it blown off. Then he made a bad joke about it! It was absolutely atrocious."

"Fred Weasley! Your brother got his ear blown off and you care about the joke he told?"

"Just trying to get that look of your face, love."

A sudden blush spread over my cheeks, which embarrassed me even further. Not that any one knew it, but Fred had always had a special place in my heart. I loved George as a brother, of course, but Fred… there was something about him. Something that startled me and entranced me, from the first time I met him on the Hogwarts Express. Him and his brother sat in my compartment. My compartment. Little muggle-born eleven year old me, acne faced and shy, my long hair pulled back in a sort of farewell braid by my mother. They shoved their way into my compartment without asking, jostling each other and giggling.. Fred sat to my right, and George to my left.

"Hullo! I'm Fred Weasley."

"And I'm George. Pretty braid you've got."

I blushed furiously, trying to bury my nose in my chest.

"Can I touch it?"

My head instantly snapped up, and I turned to my right. Wide-eyed, I stared at this strange little ginger boy. Surley he wasn't serious.

"Please?"

His hand reached out, and touched my hair cautiously. I'm sure that he thought I would strike him.

"What's your name?"

"Poppy Blackburn."

He seemed to turn that over in his mind a few times. He stroked my hair once, and pulled back his hand.

"It really is pretty," Fred said, arching an eyebrow. "Wanna turn it pink?"

McGonagall seemed rather distraught at first when the short pink-headed girl was sorted to her house, but as my hair slowly faded back to it's normal hue, she seemed to accept me happily.

I looked up to Fred's smiling face, ignoring the butterflies making a vortex in my stomach.

"What was the joke?"

"About being hole- y."

I cringed. "There is an entire world of ear humour… I personally would have gone with an irritable one."

"That's my Poppy!" he exclaimed happily, punching my arm lightly. His whole face brightened and stars suddenly lit his eyes. An internal light shone through his skin. His pink lips pulled themselves wide in an amazing smile. His sudden emotion took my breath away. I smiled back. Something was suspended between us for a moment - something that send a wild charge from the crown of my head to my stomach… then lower.

"Uhm," Fred looked down at his feet. He mumbled something. "doyamaybewantogoinside?"

"What?" I blinked rapidly, trying to rid my head of the electric feeling.

"Do you want to go inside?" His mouth turned back up slightly in a smile. "It's a bit uh, humid here."

"I would love that."

We quickly escaped the confines of the tent, almost breaking out into a run. We stumbled into the dimly-lit kitchen, giggling like first years.

"I'm pretty sure Mum has extra treckle tart in here somewhere, I know it's your favorite, Pop."

A few rustling sounds came from the cabinets. Something fell and a muffled curse escaped his mouth.

"Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"Can't we just Accio them?"

"…And that's why we keep you around."

He raised his wand, and a small plate of the tarts came whizzing to us. He caught them nimbly, and offered them to me.

"For you, m'lady?"

I curtsied and plucked one from the plate and ate it.

"T'would be my pleasure, good sir."

"I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine." he said, picking up one for himself. His eyes flickered up to mine cautiously as he ate. I could tell that he was mulling something over in his head as he chewed.

"Don't think too hard, Freddie, you may turn into Percy."

Something seemed resolved then, and his face hardened. Before I even realized what he was doing, he leaned foreword and kissed me. His lips tasted like sugar. He seemed urgent, pressing himself against me hard. And before I realized what I was doing, I kissed him back. His hand found it's way to the side of my face, and mine tangled in his hair.

We broke apart for a moment to catch a breath of air. Hand still in his hair, I stroked it happily

"Your hair is pretty. Wanna turn it pink?"