snoauthentic

[snoauthentic]

Gasoline -Fred Weasley- Master list

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

[snoauthentic]

Gasoline -Fred Weasley-

Chapter Three

        A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretense disappeared: The Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere. 

        Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes (green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria) which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves. 

        Fred, George, and I walked side by side as we looked at all the different things that were for sell. Neither of the twins had money to spend since they betted all of what they had, so despite their protests, I bought enough for all three of us. At first the twins tried to argue with me, but I ignored them and did it anyway and eventually they stopped arguing and allowed me to buy things. I bought plenty of sweets as well as shamrocks, green rosettes, and flags. I glanced over at Harry, Ron, and Hermione to see them looking at the Omnioculars. Harry stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled money out to buy three Omnioculars. 

        A deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field. 

        "It's time!" said Mr. Weasley, looking just as excited as the rest of us. "Come on, let's go!" 

        Mr. Weasley lead the way as we all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. We could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around us, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infections; The twins were practically hopping as they walked beside me. We walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until we emerged on the other side and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. We could only see a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it. 

        "Seats a hundred thousand," I heard Mr. Weasley say ahead of me. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again."

        Mr. Weasley lead the way towards the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards. 

        "Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked our tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

        The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. We clambered upward with the rest of the crows, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to our left and right. As we kept climbing, I caught sight of Aiden with who I could only assume were his parents. I started to lift my hand to wave at him, but I stopped as a gorgeous girl with straight blonde hair ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him before planting a big kiss on his cheek. My mouth slightly fell open, taken a bit back by this.

        "What's wrong?" Fred asked when he saw me staring off past everyone. He followed my eyesight before saying, "That big git. Come on, Fal, let's keep going and enjoy the game."

        I didn't say anything, but I did allow him to pull me as we kept going up the stairs. We finally reached the top of the staircase and found ourselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goalposts. I felt myself getting nauseous due to the height, so I held onto Fred's hand tightly as we walked towards one of the many purple-and-gilt chairs that stood in two rows. Once we got to our seat, I didn't let Fred's hand go. In fact, Fred shifted our hands to where our fingers interlocked together and placed them in his lap once we sat down. George, who was sitting on the other side of Fred, leaned forward and gave me a wink as he gestured towards our hands. I rolled my eyes at him. 

        A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which  seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from where we're seated. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at my eye level, was a gigantic blackboard that has gold writing on it, but every now and then it was wiped off again. 

        The box filled gradually around us over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. I watched as Percy kept jumping to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Clearly embarrassed, he grabbed his wan and quickly repaired them and then stayed in his seat, repeatedly throwing jealous looks at Harry because Fudge greeted him like an old friend.

        "Harry Potter, you know," Fudge told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "Harry Potter...oh come on now, you know who he is...the boy who survived You-Know-Who... you do know who he is-"

        The Bulgarian wizard spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it. 

        "Knew we'd get there in the end," said Fudge wearily. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat. Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places. Ah, and here's Lucius!"

        Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were Lucius Malfoy, who I had met previously through my parents, as well as his son, Draco, and lastly, Narcissa, who I also met. 

        "Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?" 

        "How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk-Obalonsk-Mr.-well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

        Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other.

        "Good lord, Arthur," Mr. Malfoy said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

        I felt Fred's hand tighten around mine in anger at Malfoy's words. I looked at him, catching his eyes. I shook my head at him and rubbed my thumb against the back of his hand.

        Fudge, who clearly wasn't listening to what Malfoy had said, began talking, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

        "How-how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a strained smile.

        I watched Malfoy as his eyes found Hermione, who went slightly pink, but she stared determinedly back at him. A feeling of pride swelled in my chest as I watched her knowing how much the Malfoy prided themselves on being purebloods and knowing their disdain for muggle borns like Hermione. 

        Thankfully, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything. Instead he nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. After everyone got situated in their seats, Mr. Bagman charged into the box. 

        "Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister, ready to go?"

[snoauthentic]

Introduction

Hi, all. I'm Sno Authentic. I've been a writer for a while now, but I've mainly written on Quotev and Wattpad. I thought I'd try here as well. I started writing again after taking a year long break. I try by best to post updates at least once a week. At the moment, I'm trying to focus on finishing my Gasoline series, but in the future I'm hoping to add in knew stories. If anyone has any sort of suggestion, please let me know, and also please bare with as I am still trying to get used to Tumblr's format. Thank you. :)

[snoauthentic]

Gasoline -Fred Weasley-

Chapter Two

        I made it back to the campsite and sat down beside Fred. 

        "I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know why you don't like Aiden, and that's completely your business."

        Fred looked at me before saying, "I just don't think he'd be good for you. He dated both Alicia and Katie last year. At the same time. He hurt them pretty badly, and then the next moment you told me you two were studying together and then it turned into talking more and sending each other owls. All I could think about was that he was going to do the same thing to you."

        I stared at him for a moment before flinging my arms around him in a hug. Fred stumbled backwards for a moment before he regained his footing, wrapping his arms around me in return. 

        "What's this for?" he laughed.

        "For always trying to look out for me," I replied, pulling back.

        Fred laughed before gently shoving me away. Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally showed back up after being gone for a really long time. 

        "You've been ages," said George when they finally got back to the tents.

        "Met a few people," said Ron, setting the water down. "You not got that fire started yet?"

        "Dad's having fun with the matches," said Fred. 

        My eyes drifted over to Mr. Weasley who was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life. He managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise. 

        "Come here, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione kindly, taking the box of matches from him and showing him how to do it properly. 

        She finally got the fire going, but it wasn't until an hour later that it was even how enough to cook on. While we all waited for it to heat up, I shifted to where I was laying in the grass, listening to Fred and George whisper back and forth about their products. A popping sound caused me to jump and look at where it came from. I finally found the source, Percy, Bill, and Charlie had Apparated, and Percy just had to announce it. We were halfway through our plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward us. 

        "Aha!" he shouted. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

        I looked over to see Luda Bagman in long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed, but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy. 

        "Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. "Arthur, old man, what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming, and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements. Not much for me to do!"

        Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression. 

        "Ah-yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry, and this is Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Ron, Fallon, my daughter Ginny, and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets-"

        Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing. 

        "Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seamed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match."

        "Oh, go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see. A Galleon on Ireland to win?"

        "A Galleon?" Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well. Any other takers?"

        "They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like-"

        Before he could finish his sentence, the twins got up, "We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts that Ireland wins but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

        "You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that-" Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter. 

        "Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

        I could see Percy froze in stunned disapproval and snickered to myself. 

        "Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting. That's all your savings. Your mother-"

        "Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance. I'll give you excellent odds on that one. We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we.."

        Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names. 

        "Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley. 

        "Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

        "Mr. Crouch? said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll."

        "Anyone can speak Troll," I stated dismissively causing Fred and George to stifle their laughter. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

        Percy threw me an extra nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to a boil. 

        "Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside all of us. 

        "Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

        "You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested as Percy handed Bagman his tea. 

        "Barty Crouch keep saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh, talk of the devil!"

        A wizard Apparated at our fireside, and just from looking at him, he was the complete contrast with Ludo Bagman. Barty Crouch is a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. 

        "Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Mr. Bagman brightly. 

        "No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch with a bit of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

        "Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

        I bit my bottom lip to avoid from laughing because for whatever reason, I imagined a burly Bulgarian with a tiny pair of tweezers. 

        "Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half-bow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?" 

        "Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes, thank you, Weatherby."

        The twins chocked into their cups as they took sips. I patted their backs with an amused face as I watched Percy's ears turn very pink. I shared a look with the twins, and I immediately knew that they were adding the name into their vault of teases to use against their older brother. The three Ministry employees continued their conversation as Percy hurriedly made tea. Fred and George whispered to each other, eyes darting towards their father every now and then to see whether or not he was paying attention to them. I leaned back onto my hands, allowing my hair to fall down my back.

        "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details-" 

        I looked at the three adults, a bit intrigued by the new information. 

        "Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts-"

        "Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

        Crouch pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Bagman, who was struggling to get to his feet, to rise.

        "See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!"

        "What's happening at Hogwarts, Mr. Weasley?" I asked once they were gone. "What were they talking about?"

        "You'll find out soon enough," he replied. 

        "It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

        "Oh shut up, Weatherby," Fred said swiftly. 

        "It's not like it's the Tri-Wizard," I stated with a laugh before going back to eaves dropping on Fred and George's whispering.

[snoauthentic]

Gasoline -Fred Weasley-

Chapter One

        We set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, I could just barely make out ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. 

        We came up to a cottage where a man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. From the experiences I have had with Muggles, I guessed at once that this was one simply due to the confused look on his face as well as his clothing. When he heard our footsteps, he turned his head to look at us. 

        "Morning!" Mr. Weasley said brightly. 

        "Morning."

        "Would you be Mr. Roberts?" 

        "Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

        "Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

        "Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

        "That's it."

        "You'll be paying now, then?"

        "Ah - right- certainly," Mr. Weasley said before turning away and having Harry help him with the Muggle money he had. 

        "You foreign?" Mr. Roberts asked as he watched Mr. Weasley struggle with the money. 

        "Foreign?" 

        "You're not the first one who's had trouble with money. I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

        "Did you really?"

        I could hear the nervousness in Mr. Weasley's voice. Big gathering's like this have rules that we're supposed to follow. Two being try to blend into the Muggle would as much as possible by doing no magic and wearing Muggle clothes, and the other being try to use the right currency otherwise Muggles get suspicious. Rightfully so as well. 

        "Never been this crowded," Mr. Roberts said as he rummaged in his tin for change. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up. People from all over. Loads of foreigners, and not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

        "Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley. 

        "it's like some sort of... I dunno... like some sort of rally," said Mr. Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

        At that very moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door. 

        "Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts. 

        Instantly, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. I knew immediately that he had his memory altered seeing as obliviate was the memory wipe spell. 

        "A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley as he also handed him his change. 

        "Thanks very much," Mr. Weasley said. 

        The wizard in plus-fours accompanied us towards the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted. His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Been have a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

        "I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sport," said Ginny, looking surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

        "He should," said Mr. Weasley, smiling, and leading us through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit, well, lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic Head of sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

        We trudged up the misty field between long rows of tenets. My body begged me to lie down somewhere due to it not being used to so much walking. I didn't pay too much to the tents as we past due to most of them looking ordinary as they tried to follow the "blend in" rule. We finally reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field where an empty space with a small sign that read WEEZLY was hammered into the ground. 

        "Couldn't have a better spot!" Mr. Weasley said happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult. Muggles do it all the time. Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

        Just once glance at Harry's face and I knew that he didn't even know where to start. I knew I couldn't be of any help, so I turn towards the twins. They looked at me, and I nodded towards the side, meaning for them to follow me. We walked away from the others. 

        "Do you two want the toffees now?" I asked quietly in case we could still be heard by Mr. Weasley.

        "Let's wait until the vendors come through," George stated, glancing around at the wizards and witches near us. 

        "Our main target is going to be Hogwarts student. Less of a chance for us to get into trouble," Fred added. 

        I nodded as I adjusted my bag on my shoulder again. It wasn't that the weight of my bag was making it uncomfortable since as the undetectable extendable charm essentially made it weightless, it was the fact that I've had been carrying it since we had left the Burrow. I felt Fred's eyes on me and when I looked at him, he reached out his hand. 

        "What?" I asked. 

        "Give me your bag," he stated. 

        "No," I laughed. "It doesn't weigh anything."

        "You've been adjusting it for a while now," he said. 

        "Seriously-" before I could finish my sentence, Fred grabbed the strap of my bag and took it anyway. I huffed at him and glared, but all he did was give me a cheeky smile. 

        "Fallon!" someone called from behind me causing me to turn around. 

        Walking towards me and waving was Aiden, the seventh year Gryffindor that I had been talking to a lot over the summer break. 

        "Hey," I greeted as he stopped beside me. "How long have you been here?"

        "We got here yesterday," he replied. "Hello, Fred, George."

        The twins gave him a stiff smile before saying they were going to go walk around to find any Hogwarts students. As they walked away, I told them to please not to lose my bag. They assured me that they wouldn't before being out of hearing range. I turned back Aiden.

        "I'm sorry about them. They haven't been in the best of moods today," I said to him. 

        Aiden ran his hand through his black hair before saying, "I don't ever take it personally. They've been that way since the start of last year. I think it was actually about the time you and I began hanging out more often."

        "They're special," I laughed. 

        "Where are you sitting, by the way?" he asked. 

        "Uh," I paused. "I think the top box. I'm honestly not too sure."

        "Mind if I sit with you?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

        "Sure," I smiled. "I'll see you then, yeah?"

        Aiden nodded before he headed off. I began making my way back to the group with a smile on my face. Hermione and Harry had been able to figure out how to put the tents up. Nobody looking guess they belonged to wizards, that's for sure. 

        "We'll be a bit cramped," Mr. Weasley said after he had entered the tent, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

        We each took turns bending down and entering into one of the tents. Once I was completely in, I stood back up and took in the surroundings. It looked like an old-fashioned, three-room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. There were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs and a strong smell of cats. 

        "Well, it's not for long," said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."

        Mr. Weasley picked up a dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water."

        "There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron. "It's on the other side of the field. 

        "Well, why don't you, Harry, and Hermione go and get us some water then and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"

        "But we've got an over," said Ron. "Why can't we-"

        "Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

        When Harry and Ron exited the tent, Fred and George clambered in, giving me cheeky grins as they stuff a coin bag into each of their pockets. Mr. Weasley spared a short glance at them before telling the three of us to go gather wood for the fire. 

        "Did you two have any luck with the toffees?" I asked as I picked up semi thick branches that would do good for burning and put them in their arms. 

        "We did. A lot of the ones we went to bought several to mess with relatives or friends," George stated. 

        "How was your talk with Rosier?" Fred asked, his voice with a slight mocking tone. 

        "It was good, actually. He's sitting with me during the Cup," I said, watching the ground as we continued to walk. 

        "Is he?" Fred asked. 

        "Yes," I said, turning to face him. "Is there an issue? He told me how you two have been off putting towards him since the start of last year."

        "No, no issue," George said matter-of-factly. "I don't have any issue with him anyway."

        "So does that mean you do?" I asked, crossing my arms and staring at Fred. 

        "Why would I?" he asked with a huff before starting to head back towards the campsite. "He's an egotistical bigot."

        I stared at Fred's back as he walked away before looking at George, "How could he say that?"

        George shrugged, "He's talked to Rosier before he started studying with you and talking to you. I don't think the pair have ever liked one another."

        "Do you know what they talked about?" I asked as I placed the last stick into George's arms and we began to walk back. 

        "I want to say it was Angela, but it's been a bit, so I'm not too sure. Are the two of you going out?" 

        "No! I mean, I wouldn't mind if we did. Aiden is quite funny actually. We've owled quite often over the summer break."

        "Do you want some advice?" George asked, stopping at the edge of the tree line. "Ask around about him before you decide to jump head in. I won't tell you who to go with or anything of the sort, but I don't want you to be hurt either, so please just find some more out about him from other people. Try asking Alicia or Katie."

        I watched him walk away as I processed what he had told me. Why would I need to ask Alicia and Katie about Aiden? Did something happen between them that made Fred not like him and made George advise me from going forward with our relationship?

[snoauthentic]

Gasoline -Fred Weasley-

Prologue

        Yesterday, I arrived at the Weasley's house for the last few weeks of summer break before we went back to Hogwarts for our next school year.  I was also pretty happy to get to go because I love quidditch, but it also meant that I got to spend more time with Fred and George. The three of us, plus Lee Jordan, have been friends since our first year when we meet on the scarlet Hogwarts train, and ever since then, we've all been pretty much inseparable. Since our second year, people have always assumed that Fred and I were dating, but we're far from that. In fact, over the summer, Aiden Rosier and I have been sending letters back and forth a lot more. Aiden is a seventh year Gryffindor who I met in the previous school year. We had ran into each other in the library one afternoon while I was trying to study for the O.W.Ls. He actually helped me study quite a lot for them, and I passed every single one that I took thanks to him. That all being said, I'm hoping he asks me on a date soon. 

        Mrs. Weasley came into the room quietly, waking Hermione and Ginny up before she made her way towards where I laid. She paused for a moment when she realized I was already awake before she said, "Oh, you're awake! Hurry and get ready. Don't want to be late for the World Cup."

        "Yes, ma'am," I replied, pushing the covers off of me and got up. I grabbed my clothes and waited for Hermione to close the door as her and Ginny went down. I also packed a bag with a change of clothes so that I could change before the game. I definitely didn't want to cheer for Ireland in a baggy sweatshirt and leggings. After making sure everything I needed was inside my pack, as well as packing a few more things that I may not need, I tossed it over my shoulder and left the room to head to Ron's room where Fred and George were sleeping due to Bill and Charlie taking over their room. I knocked on the door and leaned against the wall, waiting for them to answer. Ron and Harry were the ones who opened the door, I gave them a smile and wave which they returned before they walked past me to go down stairs. Without asking if the twins were decent, I walked in and shut the door. They were already dressed and were standing over something on Ron's bed.

        "What are you two trouble makers up to?" I asked as I stood beside them. 

        "We're stocking up on our Ton-Tongue Toffees," George answered, holding up the brightly colored wrapped candies. 

        "We're going to try to make a bit of money while at the game. Get the name out for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Fred grinned. 

        "Do you have room in your bag for some? Mum will more than likely try to make sure we're not smuggling anything out because of the incident yesterday," George said.

        I nodded remembering what had happened. I had stayed at the Burrow while George, Fred, Ron, and Mr. Weasley Floo'd to Harry's house to pick him up. They had told me that the fireplace was boarded up when they arrived, so Mr. Weasley had to essentially blow it up, giving the Muggles a big fright. Fred and George had went up stairs to fetch Harry's truck and Hedwig's cage, and whenever they were about to Floo back, Fred "accidentally" dropped a ton of the toffees. He had grabbed all except one which happened to be the one that Dudley, Harry's plump Muggle cousin who was also put on a diet, had ate the toffee and his tongue had swollen four feet before they had allowed Mr. Weasley to fix it. When Mrs. Weasley heard what happened, she had a right fit. 

        "Yeah. Mum put an undetectable extension charm on it first year. You don't think she'd check my bag?" I asked.

        They both paused, thinking, before Fred said, "No. She swears you're a good influence on us."

        I didn't say anything else as I placed my back on the bed and opened it, shoveling some of the toffees into it and under some clothes in case Mrs. Weasley did want to search it. The three of finished hiding the contraband before making our way downstairs and into the kitchen, taking seats beside one another. Everyone ate in silence before Mrs. Weasley told us that Bill, Charlie, and Percy would be apparating to the game later. This of course made the others groan since we had to wake up earlier than they had to. 

        Out of no where, Mrs. Weasley caused everyone to jump due to her sharply saying, "George!"

        "What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived absolutely no one. 

        "What is that in your pocket?" 

        "Nothing!"

        "Don't you lie to me!"

        Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

        Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand. 

        "We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. I bit my lip, hoping she wouldn't search everyone for me. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

        As the scene went on, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the twins. I knew that they were trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find the majority of them. Toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans. Thankfully the toffees that we placed in my bag, stayed in place. 

        "We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away. 

        "Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"

        I flinched as she said that, my heart sinking as I looked at the twins' face. For a split second you could see sadness filter into their eyes, but in the next, they were filled with anger. I knew her words hurt them, I had comforted them many times in the past when Mrs. Weasley scolded them for their joke shop items. 

        All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not as nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her. I gave her a small smile and hug before placing my back on my shoulder and running after the tall boys. Mrs. Weasley shouted for us to have a lovely time and for us to behave as our group of eight departed towards the portkey, where ever that was. 

~~

        It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to our right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. I glanced up as I noticed Harry speed up to walk beside Mr. Weasley. 

        Faintly, I heard him asked, "So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?"

        "It's been a massive organizational problem," sighed Mr. Weasley. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters-"

        I pretty much tuned the rest out as I looked to my left at Fred.

        "Are you two okay?" I asked. 

        "Fine," George grumbled. 

        I sighed heavily, "That's some bull. You're forgetting I've known you two for six years. Stop lying to me."

        "We're just tired of it. We've poured out time, energy, and money into making quality products, and Mum destroys them then essentially says we're going no where when we're trying to do something we love!" Fred bursts. "I mean honestly. We don't like Ministry work, but she wants us to work there like Dad, like Percy. She wants us to get a job like Charlie or Bill. We're not them though. We're Fred and George. We're jokesters. Pranksters. We like to bring smiles onto peoples faces and make them laugh. Why can't we do the things we love and want to do rather than what everyone else wants us to do?"

        I nod, "I agree with you. You should be able to do what you love, and everyone knows you guys have a passion for it. I would just continue to do it, and if needed, just send me all your products. It'll be safe at my house."

        This brought a smile onto both of their faces, and I'm glad it did because that's what I was shooting for. Ahead of us, Mr. Weasley was stilling telling Harry how so many wizards were able to congregate in one area without Muggles getting suspicious. 

        "For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed."

        Mr. Weasley pointed ahead of us, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Fred, George, and I walked closer to Mr. Weasley and Harry. 

        "What sort of objects are Portkeys?" Harry asked. 

        "Well, they can be anything," said Mr. Weasley. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them, stuff they'll just think is litter."

        We continued to trudge down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by our footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as we made our way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. My hands and feet were freezing, so I knew everyone else's probably was as well. I was about to start talking, but with the stitch in my side getting worse, I decided not to. We began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of frass. Each breath I took was sharp, and occasionally my knees would slightly give out causing me to stumble a tad. Thankfully Fred reacted quickly and grabbed my arm tightly to keep me upright. Eventually, he got tired of doing it every time and just kept his hand on me until we made it to level ground. 

        "Whew," panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes. Now we just need the Porkey. It won't be big. Come on."

        I tossed my head back in a silent groan as everyone dispersed to look for something that could be actual litter on the ground. We had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout broke the still air. 

        "Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

        Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

        "Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of us followed behind him, completely tired. Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand. My face contorted into a look of disgust, not looking forward to touching it what so ever. 

        "This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric."

        Cedric Diggory is definitely described as handsome. He's seventeen, Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team, and if you asked anyone other then me, they'd say he was the most attractive student at Hogwarts. 

        "Hi," said Cedric, looking around at all of us. I gave him a smile. Cedric and I had studied many times in the past as well since we typically would end up at the same table in the library. 

        Everybody said hi back except Fred and George who merely nodded. I knew that had never quite forgiven him for beating our quidditch team in the first match last year, but honestly, Cedric did argue with Madam Hooch about the win and how it wasn't fair. 

        "Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked. 

        "Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

        "Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when eh's got his Apparition test. Still, not complaining. Quidditch World Cup. Wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons, and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy," Amos peered around at all of us. "All of these yours, Arthur?"

        "Oh no, only the redheads," Mr. Weasley paused, looking at me. "Except her, although she might as well be. This is Fallon. Over here is Hermione, friend of Ron's, and Harry, another friend-"

        "Merlin's beard," said Amos, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

        I scowled. I knew Harry had be tired of people having that reaction every single time they met him. I know I would. I glanced over at the boy in question to see his eyes squint slightly before answering, "Er-yeah."

        "Ced's talked about you, of course," Amos said. "Told us all about playing against you last year. I said to him, I said Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. You beat Harry Potter!"

        I stared wide eyed at him, completely baffled that he'd say something like that. Apparently I wasn't the only one because Fred and George scowled and Cedric looked embarrassed. 

        "Harry fell of his broom, Dad," I heard him mutter. "I told you, it was an accident."

        "Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman, but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh?" One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be genius to tell which one's the better flier!" 

        I couldn't be silently any longer, so I pretended that I was trying to be quiet but in reality I wanted him to hear, "The only reason Hufflepuff won because demetors overstepped where they weren't welcome and attacked Harry. If anyone thinks that means the other is a better flier, then they're just down right daft. Gryffindor has won every game they've played while Harry's been on it, and we would've won that one as well if it weren't for the dementers."

        Fred and George stifled their sniggers on either side of me as Mr. Weasley looked at me with wide eyes before saying quickly, "Must be nearly time! Do you know whether we're waiting for anymore, Amos?"

        It look Mr. Diggory a moment to focus on what Mr. Weasley had said because he was staring daggers at me, "No, the Lovegoods have been here for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets. There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

        "Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off. We'd better get ready."

        Everyone gathered around the moldy old boot, each of us grabbed ahold. All of us except Harry and Hermione. Mr. Weasley told them to just hold on, and when they did, he began to count down. Once he said one, it felt as if a hook just behind my navel had been jerked irresistibly forward. My feet left the ground, and I could feel Fred and George on either side of me. My shoulders banging into their stomachs due to the height different. We were speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color. My forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling me magnetically onward and then my feet hit the ground. I stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding Fred and George as they banged into each other and fell to the ground. Shockingly, I stayed on my feet, and after allowing the world to refocus, I helped everyone else to their feet. We bid farewell to the Diggory's when Basil, an odd man in a kilt and a poncho, had told them where they were to set up camp.