A Dangerous Game

It started as a joke—just another game between the Weasley twins, a challenge neither of them expected to backfire.

“I bet I can get her to fall for me first,” George said with his usual smug grin, arms crossed as he leaned back against the common room couch.

Fred scoffed, raising a brow. “You? Please. If anyone’s got charm, it’s me.”

George smirked. “Prove it.”

And just like that, it began.

At first, it was harmless. Fred would find ways to sit next to you in class, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair, throwing you that signature smirk of his. George would counter with unexpected gifts—a chocolate frog here, a handpicked flower there—things that made you laugh but also left you wondering.

It was a game. Just a game.

Until it wasn’t.

Because somewhere between the teasing and the flirting, between the stolen glances and the late-night conversations by the fire, Fred realized something terrifying.

He didn’t just want to win.

He wanted you.

And that changed everything.