3

“Well what? What exactly do you want, Angie?” George’s blue eyes looked up to Angelina Johnson, former Quidditch captain and Chaser. His face wore a slightly irritated look, as his brother’s girlfriend continued to ask him stupid questions.

“Well, tell me. Come on, I know something’s wrong with you. What is it; did you have a fight with your brother? Your mum yelled at you? Has Ron broken your toy broomstick again?”

“No, that was Fred,” he whispered.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch what you just said.”

“I said the one with the broken broomstick was Fred. Ron broke his toy broomstick, not mine.”

“What is it then?” Angelina looked quite worried at him. George really was a bit too silent to be okay. He was known as the biggest party animal Gryffindor had ever seen, so it wasn’t in his nature to sit in the kitchen when the living room was full of people.

“Now I know!” At her words George’s head jerked up. She couldn’t possibly know what…

“You need a hug, George. I know you, and you can be sure that when I say you need a hug, I mean it. Come on!”

Although her face wore a look of sheer amusement, George could tell she was serious about it. With a sigh he stood up and went to meet Angelina for a bear hug. She was known for cheering up people with a hug, and nobody ever said it wouldn’t help, but special situations asked for special solutions. And George considered himself in a quite special situation, as his twin brother, the womanizer, had told him to get himself a girlfriend because he would be too busy with Angelina the next weeks. But what for Fred seemed so easy, was for George what dilemmas were made of. So while his brother was having fun with his girl, he sat alone in the common room, or now in the kitchen, wondering about how it would be to have someone for his own.

“Do you want a hug or not?” Angelina’s voice made him wake up from his little daydream. He merely nodded and let himself be wrapped up in her arms. Suddenly he felt her push him a bit back, but he didn’t care until his knees hit the kitchen’s bench. As if he was hypnotized, he let himself fall on the bench with Angelina in his lap. The girl pulled back from the embrace to look him in the eyes. George’s mind was instantly blocked, so he could just watch in amazement how she lowered her lips to his own and brushed them against each other. Their little teasing soon became more, and George leaned back on the bench, so Angelina was now on the top of him, without even thinking about breaking the contact. Their snogging session continued until he heard something strange. He broke away from her lips and peeked around her head to a certain someone standing in the doorway, looking amazed at what the two were doing.

“Fred, I thought you were in the living – oh! You’re not Fred…”

The person turned around to leave, but George couldn’t let him escape like this. This really couldn’t be true; how could someone have so much bad luck?

“Wait… I can explain it!” But was too late. The one who had caught them making out had already left.

“What are we going to do now?” she whispered in a slightly trembling voice.

“I don’t know, but I think it would be wise to get off my lap before Fred turns up.”

“Why should he come to the kitchen?”

“Because he will tell him…”

*-*-*

“Well?”

“Well what?” George had the sensation to have already said those words that evening, but couldn’t quite remember when.

“Well, is it true what he has told me; that he saw you make out with my girlfriend? When I’m just at 10 feet’s distance? Come on, tell me.” His brother was a bit too calm for George’s tastes. He hated it when his brother was like that; a furious and screaming Fred was really his preference.

“Of course it is true,” came a voice from behind. “I’m not blind, I know what I saw, and it definitely was Angelina and George who were making out on the bench over there.”

George looked furiously in his direction and tried to come up with an excuse to please his twin brother. Fortunately, Angelina took care of this by delivering the perfect excuse, even if meant to play a little theatre. She went over to Fred, put her arms around his neck and purred into his ear,

“Freddy, love, it’s completely my fault. It seems I had too much to drink, and on my way to the toilet, which is through the kitchen as you know, I saw your brother and thought it was you. You can imagine my desire to kiss someone as sweet as you, so I didn’t take the time to think about you, the real you, being in the living room. Will you forgive me – me and George, who has absolutely no fault?”