Waiting outside of the Hufflepuff dormitory, Fred glanced around and shifted on his feet.  It’d been a couple of weeks since the broom accident, and while things were never awkward with Alistair (it seemed like he didn’t remember anything beyond a week out), Esther and Ayla… well that was another story. 

Fred tried to avoid all awkwardness with anyone and thus, when he finally had another patrol with Ayla, he was kind of nervous.  He’d only been able to eat two helpings at dinner, that’s how nervous he was.  Not that Ayla was scary, that wasn’t it at all. 

He didn’t even blame her for what happened.  He and Alistair had been being… well, themselves (thoughtless teenage boys, his mother had written him, if he was going to be as accurate as possible) and someone was bound to get hurt.  Realistically, it was probably always going to be Fred who ended up in the infirmary. 

It was just like… he hadn’t had the chance to say that and then so much time passed… and then it felt weird to talk to her even though they were in the same house.  So, Fred might have, you know, avoided being to breakfast, lunch, and dinner on time, because then he could figure out where to sit so it wasn’t that awkward.  Now, he’d managed to make it so long without addressing it that it was inevitable!  Maybe Ayla wouldn’t come and he’d do it alone.  That’d be totally easier and it'd make the thumping in his chest and tightness in his stomach totally go away... right?

Ayla was pacing the Hufflepuff common room fussing at her uniform. She was really only delaying the enivitable but she was trying to work up her courage to face Fred. She hadn't talked to Esther since their confrontation the day of the incident (not that she made a habit out of talking to the Slytherin) but she felt the other girl was still convinced she tried to kill Fred. Alistair, thankfully, was acting like nothing had happened but her housemate had been actively avoiding her. Maybe he blamed her as much as Esther did.

Taking a deep breath, she exited the dorms to find him waiting for her. She gave him a nervous, mostly sheepish smile. If he did still blame her or hate her or whatever, this was going to be a very long patrol. She once again fiddled with the hem of her vest, avoiding his eyes.

"Look Fred," she tucked a lock of turquoise hair behind her ear, "I just wanted to say I'm really, really sorry. I know you probably hate me and the last thing you want is to spend the next two hours alone with me but I needed to get that out. I didn't mean for you to get hurt and despite what Esther says," there was obvious contempt when she spoke their classmate's name, "I did not try to drown you. I just, I've never used revennerate and I was so upset I didn't want to hurt you even more if I did the spell wrong and throwing a bucket of water on someone always works in the movies and I know this isn't the movies but it was the first thing I could think of and it totally would have been fine if Little Miss Perfect hadn't shown up but I just wanted to say I was sorry for all of it regardless and please please please don't hate me." It all came tumbling out in one long fast paced ramble of a sentence.

When the round door of the common room opened, Fred felt an immediate sense of dread wash over him.  Here it was, he was going to have to talk to Ayla and they were going to have to talk about it.  Or they would just walk in silence and hopefully nothing would happen on their patrol and maybe they would just be able to walk in silence for a couple of hours. Uncomfortable, horrible silence.

Though, what actually happened – maybe Fred would have preferred horrible, uncomfortable silence.  Ayla walked out and just started talking.  It was an endless stream of talking – apologizing, explaining – all of it.  His eyes went wide and Fred felt his mouth get dry.  He didn’t know how to respond.  It struck him, as the words tumbled from her lips often sounding like one long word with absolutely no breath in between, did he sound like this?!

His ears started to turn pink.  This was it, he was listening to himself, which sort of made it seem okay because he could immediately emphasize with her feelings if she was acting like this.  It made him feel bad and his shoulders drooped before he lifted his hands, “Whoa, whoa!” Fred smiled nervously, taking a step back, “I – uh – well, first off, I don’t have you, Ayla!” he knew if he were doing the word vomiting, that would be the first thing he would want to know.  It wouldn’t matter if he said anything else if he didn’t confirm that he wasn’t mad. 

“Just… um…” oh his mouth was so dry.  He fiddled with his hands and averted his eyes while rocking on his heels.  What to say next?  Oh Godric.  He could get it together, he knew he could.  Alright, alright, just do two big breaths and then go.  “I know you didn’t want to kill me and the water was fine – I’m all better anyway,” he lifted his healed arm.  A night in the infirmary had been all it took with some potions and note to be excused from wand work the following day to let everything settle, “Esther means well but she’s…” he didn’t know how to say it without being offensive, so he just shrugged, “she’s Esther.”  Probably not much better, but he tried.  “It’s okay.” 

Ayla made a full 180 as soon as he began talking. She looked to him directly and her whole face lit up. The change was as sudden as if someone had popped the cork on a bottle of champagne. Fred didn't hate her. Fred didn't hate her! It was the best response she could have been given.

She flat out giggled at his assessment of Esther. He was quite right, Esther really was just Esther. Which was not exactly a good thing as far as Ayla was concerned. However she wasn't about to go on a rant about how she felt about the Slytherin.

In a swift motion she got up on her tip toes and wrapped Fred in a sweet hug, "Thank you Fred."

She gave him another sheepish grin as she broke from the embrace. They weren't exactly the physical type of friends. Not like she was with Alistair, who seemed to just like touching everyone. She just felt the urge after all the built up tension between them.

"Sorry."

She started to head up to the main floor of the castle to start their patrol, "So I gotta ask, if you don't hate me, why have you been avoiding me?"

Before he even knew what was happening, Fred was engulfed in a hug that squished his lungs.   Ayla was almost as strong as Alistair, who liked to hug anyone and everyone like he was going to strangle them.  He supposed that’s why he fit in so well in slytherin, being the boa constrictor he obviously was.  Ayla wasn’t quite at that level, but when she released him, Fred did breathe a little easier and he rubbed his arm with an awkward smile.

“No big deal,” he shrugged it off, despite the fact that he had totally started sweating when she hugged him.  Fred was just a kind of naturally sweaty person and when he was being touched – no matter by who – he just started to sweat.  Rubbing his palms on his pants he just smiled, hoping it would look like he was totally cool. 

As if those words could ever apply to Fred. 

Whatever.  No one else heard him think it.  He thought.  He looked around nervously—no, no legilimens hiding around in corners or anything listening in.  He hoped.  Gulping, he regarded Ayla with wide eyes he regarded her question and then felt his ears turn red, followed quickly by his cheeks and his neck.  “Well, you know… it just… I didn’t have a chance to talk to you… and then so many days passed… and then it felt weird,” he was doing the thing now,  the one sentence that stretched on forever thing, “and it felt really awkward so I didn’t want to bring it up in case you got upset or anything… because you know, I know you felt bad and it was just…” Fred rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lip, “awkward.” 

Fredrick Radley, the King of Awkward!

Up until this year Ayla had always attributed that title to Ambrose but then she got to know Fred better and he was almost as awkward as the Seventh year Ravenclaw who previously held the title.

She felt a wave of relief wash over her and she was tempted to take his hand. However she had known him well enough at this point that she knew better unless she wanted to be covered in sweat. Ick!

She chuckled sweetly, "It's okay. I totally understand." She wasn't really as awkward as he was but she had gone through two rather rough years before finding herself again and knew what it was like to second guess everything you did until you ran out of time to get it done. Blake was a perfect example of that. She should have tried to reconcile with him long ago but so much time had past it now seemed pointless.

"Next time though, not that you know I'm planning on putting you in the infirmary again but you know what I mean. Just talk to me next time. I won't bite."

She thought back to the Creatures class where she had reconciled with Alistair - or rather he had acted like nothing had happened and she was more than happy to go along with it - it had been the easiest of the three. A light blush rose to her cheeks, complementing her turquoise hair. She didn't want Fred to catch it though she figured he'd likely have no idea where it had come from.

"So um, you doing anything special for Spring Break?"

“I hope not!” Fred squawked in response to her assertion that he didn’t intend to put him into the infirmary again.  “My mum would be pissed.  She’d probably write you a howler, about the infirmary – not about the biting” he laughed awkwardly and then realized what he said and turned bright pink.  Again.  “She’d probably not be okay with the biting either,” his voice was a little strangled, “but uh… since you don’t want to bite me… I think it’ll um… it’ll totally be okay.”  He reached up and picked at the skin on the back of his neck.  This was so terrible.  Fred was awkward.  He had to try and get rid of the awkward. 

So, he just smiled it off.  The smile stretched across his cheeks, still full with baby fat that just wouldn’t fall off for some reason.  And though he was still taller than Alistair, his friend definitely looked more like the older years than he did.  It was fine though, it wasn’t like Fred was in a rush to grow up.  Grown ups had a lot of responsibility and even though he was the type that always took on responsibility, he didn’t necessarily want it yet.  It gave him anxiety.  Not that most things didn’t give him anxiety… but you know…

Clearing his throat, he motioned for Ayla to walk with him, since they really needed to get moving anyway.  It was easier to focus on walking anyway, and they needed to get a move on.  What if people were selling fairy dust in the corridors or something?  (That was totally unlikely, but it made Fred feel better about starting to go.  “Uh… not really!” he admitted with a shrug.  “Probably going to catch up on some parchments,” he admitted lamely.  “Perhaps against my better judgment,” he looked at her, “I really want to try out for quidditch next year, so I might have Alistair run some drills with me.” 

“You play for the house, don’t you?!” he added with a surprised sort of look, like it just struck him.  “You should play with us.  I think I’d want to try for Keeper, you know?  I think I’d be good at it.” 

Ayla smiled and giggled in all the right places without making Fred even more awkward and anxious than he already was. She couldn't help the blush that had come to her own cheeks when he mentioned her biting him. It was so ridiculous that it almost made her laugh but it made her think of something else as well. A little run in she had had with a certain drunken Slytherin on the Summer Cruise. He had nibbled on her lip a little. Not exactly biting but close enough to make her flustered just thinking about it. She couldn't imagine doing anything like that with Fred but there was a different Slytherin that came to mind.

She was eager to get their patrol underway though. It helped her get her mind focused on something else and if they were lucky they might actually find someone to bust on their way. Nothing like docking points from a ne'er do well to help bring them together.

Ayla rolled her eyes when he mentioned using his Spring Break to catch up on homework. How lame. She really shouldn't knock it though. She was a natural in most of her subjects and did better with last minute revisions over agonizing study sessions but that didn't mean everyone else was like that.

The mention of Quidditch brought her to full attention, "uh yeah, since my third year. Actually with Elysia graduating I was thinking of going for Captain next year." She chewed her lip a bit realizing she hadn't actually spoken it aloud before.

She made a point of looking him over. Good tall frame (at least taller than she was) the cute baby fat still holding on. He certainly wasn't big and beefy like most Beaters, he wasn't tiny like most Seekers and he wasn't lithe like most Chasers. Being a Keeper was definitely best suited for his body type, "You'd make a great Keeper and I'd totally come play with you and Alistair." There was that lousy blush again, "If you want I can ask my buddy Peyton. He's the Ravenclaw Captain but he loves Quidditch. I'm sure he'd be willing to help."

“That’s brilliant!” Fred encouraged the idea of Ayla being quidditch captain, “You should if you’ve been playing that long! I can’t imagine anyone else doing it.” Not only would it be spectacular for her, but he’d also feel a lot less nervous about trying out if he knew it was Ayla who was in charge.  He didn’t think it would give him any like special privledges or something… but he couldn’t imagine trying out for Hughes.  She was… wow.  Fred couldn’t talk in front of her.  He couldn’t even really breathe in front of her.  Flying would be a disaster.

But that was  also part of the reason he needed to get better.  He wanted to make sure he could fly in front of anyone.  That’s why he needed Alistair and Ayla to help him.  They were confident in their abilities – great at what they did.

Fred really only felt that way in a classroom.  He was a good student, he followed directions well and picked up information quickly.  Though he had good reflexes and clearly worked best as a team player, he had never even thought he could try out for quidditch.  He wanted to though and when Ayla said he would make a great keeper, well, his ears turned a little pink, he wasn’t ashamed to admit.

She was also kind of blushing.  Why was she blushing?  That made Fred blush further.  Was it because she complimented him or something?  Oh Merlin.  That wasn’t good.  Trying to play it off, Fred just cleared his throat and focused on quiddtich.  That’s what people did when they got nervous, wasn’t it?  Focus on quidditch.  “I mean, anything that will help,” he smiled, “I’ll take any of the pointers I can get.  I’d want to make sure I was, you know, actually good before I even bothered to step foot on the pitch.” 

Here they come to save the day, the Crimson Duo, staring down rule breakers with all their blushing awkwardness!

Honestly, the pair of them were a mess. She kept her emerald gold eyes straight ahead trying to ignore the blush he had broken into. True, Fred blushed at pretty much anything, especially if he was in the proximity of a girl (well any girl aside from Ayla typically) but she had been blushing too. Holy Helga, she hoped he didn't think she was blushing because of him. That would be so awkward. Not that Fred wasn't worthy of a girl blushing over him, she just didn't see him that way. She needed to get her thoughts in order, no more blushing and making him blush and giving him the wrong impression.

"Absolutely!" She wondered if she'd be able to steal some of Peyton's time. Spring Break was coming up so it'd likely be the best time to catch his attention so long as he was sticking around the castle. Even with her aspirations for being Team Captain the seasoned Quidditch player would probably be better at coaching Fred than she would. If she ever had to physically guide him, his head might actually explode.

"Practice makes better anyway." She looked over to give him a smile, hoping not to incite another round of blushing, "At least that's what my mom always says. I know the whole real saying is practice makes perfect but she liked to stress that no one was perfect. I like it better that way. I mean you can always get better at something but being perfect? Who wants that? That's way too much pressure."

She started to ascend one of the many staircases in the castle to continue on their usual patrol route, "I don't think I'd want to be a perfect Chaser, I mean I think I'm a pretty damn good chaser. Like honestly how many others have taken a bludger to the back and still managed to make a goal with a shattered shoulder blade?"[1] Whoops, there's that blush again. Not because of her own pride in her abilities but because of what had happened afterwards. She subconsciously spun the ring she was wearing, a sculpted witch on a broomstick, the circle of the ring acting as the goal hoop with a sparkling ruby in the middle to look like a Quaffle going through.[2]

---

1. Hufflepuff vs Slytherin
2. Stumbling on Stones Unturned

 “Your mum sounds like my mum,” Fred grinned easily.  That was probably one thing he could talk about with no problem.  He was sort of an unabashed mum’s boy, but it only made sense!  She was all he had and she always took care of him and wanted the best for him.  His mum was the best person in the world and believed in him even when he didn’t believe in himself.  When he mentioned he wanted to go out for quidditch next year, she’d even volunteered to buy him a new broom so he wouldn’t have to use one from school. 

Fred knew they didn’t have the money for that, but the fact that she didn’t even hesitate to offer.  His mum was the best, and obviously, like Ayla’s mom, at least in that respect.  That was probably weird though, wanting to talk about his mum.  Usually, if he mentioned his mum in front of Alistair or any of his other friends they just talked about how fit she was.  That was definitely not as great of a conversation as this. 

Pushing the thought out of his head, he shrugged.  “The pressure is kind of good, though, I think,” Fred shrugged.  “I mean, it makes you want to be better – do better, right?”  Fred was always looking for better.  He had a lot of people to make proud, some living, some not so much, but it sort of felt like they were counting on him.  He welcomed that though.  After all, it had been a Radley group effort to raise him, he had to pay them back somehow. 

Immediately more important than his own family and their expectations, Ayla continued to talk about Quidditch and his jaw dropped as she explained what happened in one game.  “Fizzing whizbees!” he exclaimed, “That sounds awful!”  Breaking his arm had been excruciating, he couldn’t imagine… maybe he wasn’t cut out for quidditch after all, he thought as his face paled and he climbed the stairs next to her.  “But, I mean, also bloody brilliant,” he added, because it was.  “You must’ve been… how did you not faint?!”  It was a legitimate question.  That sounded like it hurt, a lot. 

But he watched her body language and raised his eyebrows, regarding the ring she was playing with . “Speaking of bloody brilliant, that’s cool,” quidditch themed jewelry.  He never would have guessed.  “Did you get it at Quality Quidditch supplies?” 

Ayla smiled glad that his mom was like hers. Ayla was infinitely proud of her mother. She was a strong independent and wickedly creative woman. Ayla could never understand how she managed to balance her muggle life with her Wizarding life so flawlessly. She was a well known fashion designer, her creations have been displayed from Milan to New York and she had even designed a few red carpet dresses for a list celebrities. At the same time she was the poised and elegant wife of a Ministry Ambassador and an involved and concerned mother of three (though admittedly she was still clueless about Quidditch)

Ayla shook her head animatedly  and held up her hands, "Uh uhn no way. I hate the pressure. Being a Prefect has probably been the most stressful thing for me." Not to mention completely unexpected. She never thought she'd be given the position. She wasn't a straight O student but she did exceptionally well in a few choice subjects. She never thought herself Prefect material and the pressure to meet those expectations had been intense. At least with Quidditch it was something she knew she was good at and she didn't feel the pressure as much.

She let herself enjoy his shock. It was probably her most shining moment in Quidditch. She was just a regular average Chaser beyond that. She was good at catching and keeping the Quaffle and she was good at making goals but she wasn't exactly breaking records either, "Honestly I'm surprised I stayed on my broom. The pain was so intense I thought I had broken my entire back."

She glanced down at his question and realized that she had been spinning her ring. She did that often when she was nervous or lost in a few old memories, "Um no actually." She contemplated not telling him the truth but decided instead to fudge the details, "I actually got it from the Slytherin Beater who shattered my shoulder blade. He felt bad for putting me in the Hospital Hut. I heard that he actually made it himself." She had made it up the staircase, thankfully without it moving on them, "Guys are weird."

Fred was surprised that she said she hated pressure.  “I couldn’t tell,” Fred remarked, no hint of judgment or anything, just surprise.  “You seem to handle it well,” he added genuinely, “and you’re a good patrol partner.”  Ayla seemed to balance everything and not even be fazed by the most difficult things, like studying for OWLs and being a prefect and being on the quidditch team.  She was kind of a beast, to be perfectly honest.   

The quaffle story was just one of the thingst that proved that.  He let out a low whistle, and shook his head.  “At least you know you don’t need any felix felicis,” he gave her a crooked smile.  That stuff, Fred had read, could make anyone an ace player.  But, it wasn’t exactly legal for quidditch games, was it?  A patrol with it might be great though – depending on what luck for a patrol was. 

So far, theirs was uneventful.  Nothing was going on, the castle was damp and cold (as usual) and after the second batch of stairs, Fred was already tired.  It’d been a long day.  But, Ayla was at least interesting and he looked at her hands while she spoke.  “That’s a pretty good gift for shattering your shoulder,” he had to admit it, “Looks like it’d be complicated,” Fred assessed, thinking about all the things that would go into something like that. 

A hell of a lot of work was the only thing he could muster.  It’d probably be a lot of charms and would you have to alchemy the metals?  “And time consuming, you have to really feel bad or really like somebody to spend the time on something like that,” he mused as his feet hit the top landing, blessedly unscathed by the fickle stairways.  Looking between the two hallways, he turned toward the loos, people always seemed to congregate in the loo for some reason, and wrinkled his nose at her comment.

“We’re pretty easy to figure out, I think,” Fred countered, “straightforward, you know?  Girls are the complicated ones… you all are impossible to figure out.”  Fred grabbed the side of his head, as it to indicate pain and sighed, “I mean, I wasn’t even there and I could figure out that a guy that gives a jewelry probably is a little more than sorry.” 

There was no escaping it this time. Ayla turned bright red, she felt like her ears were burning. She made a point of looking straight ahead, trying desperately not to look at him and possibly make it worse. That was not at all what the ring had been about. He just did that. It was how he apologized . . .

She swallowed hard, "Wait what? No . . . No definitely not." Despite her insistence to the contrary she couldn't help think about their encounter on the Summer Cruise or the apology he had given her during the Winter Festival (an apology that was not accompanied by a piece of jewelry . . .)

"Okay well whatever, that was like two years ago he totally doesn't feel like that now." She took a deep breath and bit her lip hoping to run into someone, anyone, while they turned another corner, "I'm pretty sure he's the only guy to ever feel like that about me anyways. Which I guess is kind of a good thing cause he's a totally ass, but also royally sucks cause I haven't been on a date since Blake stood me up . . ." More awesome word vomit. Even with all the patrols they had been on this year this was probably the most candid she had ever been with Fred. She wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

"Um but yeah, totally feel for you, girls are crazy."

Oh fizzing whizbee! Fred had really done it now.  Ayla was bright like a tomato.  Was this how he looked all the time?  Oh Godric.  That made him sort of start to turn pink.  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you!” he explained, “sorry!”  Of course, he didn’t have anything like a ring to apologize with. 

Honestly, even if Fred tried, he’d probably drop it and lose it down a drain or something.  Or he’d break it because those things are delicate and Fred wasn’t really the delicate sort.  He was the ‘falls over his own feet’ type and those types did not handle breakable things very well.   Ah well.  Wasn’t like he liked Ayla like that anyway! 

She was definitely pretty, but being in the same house and stuff… it just made it different.  He knew her.   And loads of blokes liked her, at least Fred believed that to be true.  The one who gave her the ring had, at least.  But, the more she explained, the more he raised his eyebrows.  “I mean, we could just… you know… throw it off the astronomy tower or something,” he laughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension that was clearly written on her face. 

Didn’t seem like that was going to be the idea to go with though, or she hadn’t heard him (he hoped that was it), because she kept talking and wow.  What?  Really?  Wrinkling his nose, he couldn’t believe it.  He’d totally heard his friends mention how fit she was.  Granted, they also said that about his mum… but that was neither here nor there!

“I think you’re wrong there, Ayla,” he choked out, “Not about the crazy part or the ass part – if he made you feel bad, then that’s probably true,”  awkward,  “but you know, about guys not feeling that way.”  Fred paused to collect himself – he didn’t want to sound like he felt that way, because he didn’t, but he knew blokes did.  “I’ve heard loads of boys talk about how fit you are – maybe you’re just like, you know, hard to talk to?”  He panicked, “Not that I think you’re hard to talk to! I mean, but you are so good at school and quidditch, and I don’t know, it could be kinda intimidating, y’know?”