Crush (F.W.)

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You and Ron were sitting in the Great Hall, watching as brave students from each house and the other wizarding schools placed their names into the goblet, hoping to be chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. "I wish I could enter," he told you.

Just then, Harry appeared beside you both. "No you bloody don't," he told him and laughed.

"Yeah, Ron, you've got to be barking mad to want to enter," you said. Just then, his older twin brothers ran into the Great Hall, ringing in cheers from everyone around them. They were both holding something in their hands. You just rolled your eyes. "Case in point, Ron. Look at those two."

Fred and George were showing off whatever concoction they'd brewed up when they came over to the three of you. George asked, "Don't think we can do it?"

"No," the three of you said together.

Fred overdramatically fell backwards and into you—pretending to be offended by your doubt that they were going to successfully be able to place their names in the goblet, whilst somehow being able to trick Dumbledore's age line.

"Y/N," Fred whined, "I'm heartbroken. Literally heartbroken that you don't believe in us."

"Oh, it's not that I don't believe in you, Freddie," you told him and his eyes were swimming with excitement. "It's just that I believe in Dumbledore more."

Ron and Harry began laughing next to you when the twins began to shake their vials. The surrounding students were becoming more and more excited to see what was about to happen, and many people began whispering animatedly. The goblet was showing off a deep blue color fire, and Fred and George were more than ready to place their names in.

"Just wait," Fred told you and swung his arm around your shoulder. "In three days time I'll have been chosen to compete in the tournament, and by the end of the school year, I'll be the champion, and you'll be so impressed that you'll fall head over heels."

You scoffed at him. "Is that right?"

"Yeah," he told you, "It is. Ready, George?"

"Ready, Fred,"

"Bottoms up!" they said together.

And that's when hilarity ensued.

Later that evening, in the common room, Fred, George, Harry and Ron were playing a game of cards, while you, Ginny, and Hermione were sitting around the fire, chatting about the upcoming tournament and the Yule Ball.

George was scratching his face and saying, "I still have remnants of that bloody beard from this afternoon. Who knew our aging potion wouldn't work?"

Ron laughed. "Everyone, mate."

"Oh, it definitely worked," Harry retorted, "just not the way you wanted it too." Him and Ron started snickering like little girls.

Fred wasn't listening. He was shuffling his cards slowly, sort of in a daydream like trance, and Ron was snapping his fingers in front of his face.

He was too busy peering at you to notice anything else around him. He was focused on the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders in soft curls, the rosy pink your cheeks turned after being out in the cold, your voice bouncing off of the common rooms walls every time you let a giggle escape your lips, the clothes you wore other than your Gryffindor robes.

"Hello?" Ron said, slapping Fred across the cheek.

Surprised and brought back to reality, Fred placed a hand to his cheek. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

George just laughed. "We've been trying to get your attention for the last ten minutes, Freddie,"

Fred softened and turned back towards you. "Oh," he said, completely forgetting the moment. He watched you still, and when you looked up from your conversation with Hermione and Ginny and caught his glance, you beamed at him. It's almost as if you could hear his heart begin to pound.

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