Fred Weasley. (pranking) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-02-05 23:19:00 |
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This was usually when Angelina was in the middle of trying to convince herself to get ready for practice. But without Quidditch, there was no practice. Without practice, there was no reason to convince herself to do anything but spread out across Fred’s bed and stare up at the ceiling while he got ready for his day. “Do I still have all my limbs?” she asked. “Because I feel like I might be missing a limb.” Fred turned to look over his shoulder as he buttoned up his jeans, carefully observing Angelina. “One, two, three, four,” he counted, pointing to each limb when he numbered it. “I think,” he continued, voice grave, “you’re missing half your limbs. You know I’m only dating you because you’re an octopus.” With a laugh, she craned her neck to look at him. “I didn’t think you were serious!” she said, quickly adopting a put on indignance. “I’m so mad I could ink. Right here! On your sheets!” He screwed up his face in mock disgust, throwing the nearest thing to him at her. Which was the shirt he had been about to put on. “You’d better not, I don’t know how to clean ink off sheets so I’d have to take them to mum and then I’d have to explain why my girlfriend inked on my sheets.” Needing his shirt back to continue getting ready he moved back to the bed, perching on the edge and reaching for one of her hands. He interlaced their fingers, then gently moved their joined hands so her arm undulated like a tentacle. “What’s up?” Her tentacle arm earned a momentary smile, but it faded abruptly and she sighed. What wasn’t up was almost the better question. “I can’t believe I don’t have practice this morning. I can’t believe they took quidditch. I thought —” She aimed another sigh up at the ceiling and in a breathless rush added, “I didn’t think it would go this far and I should’ve because it’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, but I really wanted it and it feels like they’re taking everything away from me right now.” “Yeah,” Fred agreed, lying back on the bed and wishing he had something more optimistic to say. But she was right, she’d had a really bad month. “But it won’t be forever,” was the best he could offer. “We’ll defeat the death eaters and celebrate by bringing quidditch back with their heads as bludgers.” Angelina shifted onto her side to face Fred, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Sounds bloody and violent and right up my alley,” she said quietly, her mind already back on quidditch and a lack thereof. Even quieter still, “I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do with myself now.” “You know you can always test products for us,” Fred suggested with perhaps a little more enthusiasm than one should have had for experimenting on their girlfriend. “But it’s not like you’re lying in our bed all day doing nothing. You still have Order stuff, and professional bed warming should be a real job.” The suggestion that she test products made her haul herself up a little and screw up her face at Fred. But that turned into a frown. “I’m a really good bed warmer,” she said, despite the frown. “I just feel wrong not going to practice.” She took a deep, begrudging breath, though. “But you’re right. I have Order stuff and that’s important.” “The most important,” he agreed, but he knew it wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t be content with only doing Order stuff if he couldn’t have the store, and Quidditch was Angelina’s store. “But you could do broom food deliveries as well?” he suggested. “Eat half the food on the way, claim that as your payment. Or become a world famous trick flyer and put on shows for everyone. Start a quodpot league, they didn’t ban that did they?” The corners of her mouth twitched and then Angelina was smiling down at him. “A quodpot league?” she asked. “You know that’s not the same thing and practically an insult because quidditch is the superior sport, right?” “Right, but Lucius Malfoy will be like ‘wow this sport is awful, I should never have banned quidditch!!’” Fred explained, putting on a pompous voice that didn’t really sound like Lucius. “Then he’ll bring Quidditch back to save himself from the millions of complaints he’d get.” Or, more likely, he’d just cancel both. “Or you should just send him a million complaints from fake names about Quidditch being cancelled now and curse one in every few so he never knows which owls are safe.” Angelina smiled in earnest now and laid down at Fred’s side, eyes on the ceiling again. “Why not both?” she asked. “I have the time to start a quodpot league and send a million owls. There’s probably even enough time to send Malfoy Jr thousands of dick pics and say they’re all from Harry!” Fred chuckled. “Little Dragon might like that too much. Bet he starts a shrine to Harry’s dick.” He rolled onto his side to face Angelina, lightly kissing her shoulder. “You’ll find something. It won’t be quidditch, but that’s not the only thing you’re awesome at.” Smile fading a little, Angelina turned her head to look at Fred. She raised a hand and let her fingers drift through the hair at his temple while she let his words sink in. “Yeah,” she said finally with a sigh. “I am pretty brilliant.” She bit her lip. “It’s just been quidditch for so long. I don’t even know where to start.” “You could always actually start Angelina and the Pygmy Puffs,” he joked, hoping to get her smile back. “Or you could do something with divination. Help your mum and Aunt D? Start a Wiztube channel and show everyone what actually looking hot in leather pants is. Become a product sampler for Honeydukes.” He shrugged one shoulder. “You can start anywhere and if it doesn’t work or you don’t like it, start something new.” She listened with a growing amusement and leaned in to a press a kiss to his lips. “Yeah,” she mumbled, not quite pulling back. “You’re right.” A little sheepishly, “I’m overthinking it.” “I usually am,” Fred smiled at her, reaching up to tangle his fingers into her hair. “But speaking of work, I should go do that.” But instead of moving to finish getting ready, he returned her kiss with a deeper one. He wasn’t going to fire himself if he was a little late. |