beat em all up: FREDDIE II

[VIOLET MARIELLYN WEASLEY]

Ah, he loved the Quidditch pitch after the rain. Sure it was muddy, but like hell he cared about that. He was going to be up in the sky, and it wasn't like it hadn't dried up a bit. Oh, yes, Fred Weasley definitely liked the rain. He often got in trouble for it when he was younger, randomly running around in the rain while the little, more sensible children stayed inside. Unfortunately for his parents, Fred Weasley was not sensible. He liked having fun and having fun was the first thing on his list of things to do everyday. He didn't care much for rules, and he didn't really care if he broke them or not. He didn't care for detention, either, as long as it didn't conflict with the more important things in his life. Aka Quidditch.

He loved Quidditch. Being raised by parents who were in Quidditch teams before, it wasn't much of a surprise. His uncles and aunts would often joke about how Quidditch was the first thing they taught little Freddie to do, and truth be told, he was rather sure it was. Fred couldn't even remember a time when he didn't know about flying broomsticks nor not being on one. Heck, he still had that little toy broomstick in his room, albeit it didn't fly anymore. But that was alright, because he still had his own with him, which he had over one shoulder, walking across the Pitch.

Fred was in normal clothes - a simple, striped, red and gray shirt with a hoodie above it, paired with blue jeans and sneakers. He wore a beanie over his red hair, pulling it down a bit as he finally reached the Quidditch pitch, dragging along the chest that contained the three balls for the sport. Really, if he had to pick any position, he would be Beater. For multiple reasons. One, you get to beat balls around. Two, if you were lucky, you hit them towards someone you really dislike (and hopefully break their face). And last, his dad played Beater and to his knowledge, so did his dad's twin. That was a good enough reason for him.

Ugh, he was getting frustrated again. Sighing, Fred sat on the chest, and placed his broom on the ground. He was waiting for Violet, his cousin, and one of his best friends. Fred had invited her to go and play with him, considering he'd just got on the team and he needed the practice. He'd missed playing Quidditch with her, and just hanging out in general. Just the two of them. It was hard when they were busy, usually seeing each other in the corridors or during meal times (where Fred would casually walk over to the Ravenclaw table and sit with her, or drag her to the Gryffindor table). But that was different because there were loads of people around. He was curious to know what was going on in her life right now

[VIOLET MARIELLYN WEASLEY]

It had been raining all afternoon. Vi had spent it in the library, though as she looked out the window she saw her cousin, Fred, on a broom flying by the Quidditch pitch. She was a bit jealous. She loved riding her broom, but her cousin was a bit more daring then she was. Violet wouldn’t dare to go out on her broom when it was raining out; there was too much of a chance of her getting hurt. Violet had woken up today with intention on working on her flying skills. Normally she would be working on her beater skills, but with everything that has happened recently, she hasn't been willing to get on a broom until this morning. It was an urge for her to get on the broom this morning. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, the light hitting her strawberry blonde hair to make it look more red than blonde today. She pulled on a ravenclaw beater’s sweater this morning and a pair of deep blue trousers. She had spent all of her day in the library, working on homework that was due in a week or two. Her potions homework was already well ahead, but she seemed to be struggling in Divination, which the class was bullocks anyway. She was doing well in Care of Magical Creatures, to her father’s pleasure.

When the rain finally cleared up, Violet was rather cheery and she rushed down to the Quidditch pitch, mud and all to grab her broom. She had an older model, the Nimbus 2000, and she loved it dearly. The new models were all way too fussy for her to deal with. She just wanted to fly, she didn’t want any fancy magic in addition to it. She was a beater, not a prissy, fancy chaser. Violet was raised around Quidditch. Everyone in his family, well most of them anyway, were Quidditch players. Her aunts and uncles were all Quidditch players, though it wasn’t her father’s favorite thing in the world. Her twin and older brother were players; her older brother was the captain of Gryffindor team. She was always a beater though; she learned from her Uncle Fred and she played with Freddie all the time. Now they were neck and neck for each other all of the time. He treated her like one of the guys and just played around with her on the pitch, and yet, he still treated her like she was a lady and protected her to the best of his ability when it was off the pitch.

She felt bad making Fred wait so long, and so when she finally got out there, he was sitting on the Quidditch chest. She rushed up to him, her ponytail bouncing behind her. She saw the giant prankster grin on his face when she reached him. She had been missing him. She hadn’t been feeling good lately, and he had been super busy. She was wondering if Freddie had been avoiding her since the incident. She missed the sound of his laugh probably more than anything in the world. She knew that it had hurt everyone, her being cursed the way she was, but she knew that it crushed Danica and Freddie worst of all. Her mother as well; her mother was depressed for weeks, while Vi was trying to recover. Earlier in the year, he had been pulling her over to the Gryffindor table, making her blush the color of a Gryffindor sweater, but she hadn’t even seen him in the Great Hall at the same time as her lately. She had spent a good couple of weeks in St. Mungo's and around home and now she was finally back at Hogwarts, and happy to be there. Life had become pretty hard at Hogwarts. She had a little instrument made for her by Uncle George in his shop that was a listening quill. It took her notes for her because it could hear the teacher. She read the notes off of the page and asked any questions that she had. She had spent her weeks at home learning to speak again and she still wasn't the best at it, but understandable. ”Oi Fred! 'ow’s life?”

[/color] She said, grinning. She avoided saying some words like Hey because h's were difficult for her. She instead got attached to a new word, Oi. She had her broom in her right hand and put her foot on the side of the chest.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]