Two Of A Kind - Discontinued

Chapter 19 - By xXMade2LoveXx

**Rae's POV**

I stare down at Oliver with disgust. Elena scrambles away from him, standing up.

"Rae! What're you doing here?" she asks. I lean against a tree and shrug.

"Remus sent me," I tell her, "reckons he's worried about you."

She glances at Oliver.

"I'm fine," she says. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Clearly."

Oliver stands up, towering over me. I look up at him calmly.

"Why don't you run along?" he sneers. I blink very deliberatly.

"Why don't you make me?" I ask. He narrows his eyes at me, then steps away.

"Come on, Elena," he says, walking away. I look at Elena. She glances at him, torn.

"Sorry," she says, turning to follow him.

"Seriously?" I call, "you're choosing him?"

She doesn't look back, but she ducks her head. I throw my hands in the air.

"Well, that's great, just great," I say, "who am I talking to?"

I huff and wonder what to do. Fred and George are in detention, so I'm free to do as I like. I know I should be doing an essay, but let's be honest, I could write that thing in my sleep. Which is probably what will happen. I decide to go and see if I can find that stray dog.

As I approach Hagrid's hut the dog comes running out to meet me, barking and wagging its tail. I jumps up on me, knocking me to the ground.

"Ouch! Hey!" I laugh, sitting up and grabbing a hold of it, "come 'ere!"

I give it a hug, then stand up and dust my butt off.

"Want to play fetch?" I ask, picking up a stick, "I think I need to give you a name."

I throw the stick and the dog flies after it, bringing it back swiftly. I scratch his ears and he snuffles at my hand.

"How about Snuffles?" I ask, scratching him under the chin. He yaps, wagging his tail.

"Snuffles it is," I say, throwing the stick again.

"Where've you been?" George demands when I return to the common room after dinner.

"None of your business," I say, kicking my shoes off and putting my feet on his lap, "how was detention?"

"So much fun," Fred says sarcastically, "really loved it. So much I'm doing it next week too."

I smirk at him and lean over to ruffle his hair.

"Well, just think, one more week and then it's Christmas holidays," I say brightly, lying down so my head is resting on Fred's legs, "and I have you both to myself for two weeks!"

"It's not like you've been doing much sharing of us," Fred points out. I shrug.

"Not my fault," I tell him, "I seriously am in love with your mum for letting me stay."

"Yeah, wait until she's making us degnome the garden," George mutters, running his fingers over the bottom of my feet.

"Do it harder."

"Excuse me?" Fred asks, shocked. I laugh.

"George," I giggle, "he's rubbing my feet, but he's not doing it hard enough, it's tickling."

George applies more pressure and I sigh.

"That is perfect," I tell him, "Fred, you can start on my head whenever you're ready."

"You're a brat," he tells me, mussing up my hair so it falls over my face.

"Yeah, just like that," I giggle, flipping it back.

"Excuse me," George says, giving my feet a sharp pull so I slide down closer to him, "if I'm going to rub your feet, at least pay attention."

"You have my undivided attention, Mr Weasley," I say formally, "rub away."

"Thank you," he nods, rubbing my feet again. I'm not exactly comfortable where I am. The top of my head is pressing against Fred's legs and my bottom is squished against George's with my legs tucks up so he can hold my feet.

"Okay, sitting up now," I say. I swing my legs back and then forward, using the momentum to pull myself up. I brush my fingers through my hair, trying to get rid of the tangles Fred put there. A ball of paper whizzes past my ear into the fire and I sigh. The second years have arrived.

"Can we go upstairs?" I ask as the noise level rises.

"Yeah, I hate them," George says, making a face. I traipse after the twins up to their dormitory. As usual, Fred's bed is neatly made while George's sheets trail onto the ground.

"Looking at the pair of you, I'd never have picked Fred for the neat twin," I comment, sitting down on his bed. George jumps onto his and leans back.

"I never have to share my bed, though," he points out. I smirk.

"'Have to', yeah right," I tease, "never 'get' to, more like."

"Well, I wouldn't brag about it, even if I did," he says. Fred drops down next to me and I cuddle up next to him.

"This could've been you, if only you'd made your bed this morning," I tell George. He laughs.

"Thank goodness I didn't make my bed," he says, "I wouldn't want your smelly feet all over it."

"They were all over your hands a minute ago!"

George sniffs his hands and makes a face.

"Does the smell every come out?" he asks. I through Fred's pillow at him.

There's a knock on the door and Ron sticks his head in.

"Hey, George?" Ron says, "McGonagall wants to see you. Something about a salamander..."

George groans.

"See you two later," he says, walking out with Ron. I try not to look disappointed. I glance at Fred. He's staring at my feet, a slight frown on his face. I nudge him with my shoulder.

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

"Nothing, really," he says, "just..."

"Just what?" I ask, sitting up and facing me. He copies me so that we're sitting with our legs cross, knees touching.

"It's Elena," he says, "she's... She's different from how I thought she was."

I sigh. Although I often feel angry at Elena, whenever someone else feels negatively towards her I have to defend her. It's an automatic reaction. No one else can speak badly of her.

"I think Oliver's influencing her more than she realises," I tell him, "I know you're angry at her, but... Well..."

"I feel like I've lost one of my best friends," he says, looking at me with huge eyes. I don't know why, I don't even know who leant forward first, all I know is that suddenly I'm kissing Fred. A hungry, desperate kiss that makes no sense to either of us, but just seems to work and I don't bother trying to fight it.