Dating the twins is what many would consider a hassle. A waste of time, even. And honestly? They’re probably right, too. They are terrible influences.

Terrible in the way that they’d drag you out of your dorm or the common room while you studied, have you skip classes with them. Sneak you into empty halls and exchange hushed kisses.

Terrible in the way that as soon as you managed to differentiate between them properly (George just being a bit taller than Fred, and having less freckles), they’d mess with you endlessly. They’d use charms on themselves, trying to make themselves look exactly identical to trick you.

☆

26 December, 1994.

Fred had complained all the way back from the Yule Ball. He had grumbled on and on about how he only had one dance with you, while you and George had danced again and again. He complained about how he had to go with Angelina. They’d barely danced, and he’d ended up spending most of it with Lee.

George had laughed and teased him, snickering about how Fred looked all pouty.

Now the three of you sat in the empty common room, well after midnight, you on Fred’s lap. They were taking turns kissing you. When one twin would let go, the other would press his lips against yours, barely getting you gasp out for breath before kissing you again.

George pulls away from the kiss for a second, admiring their handiwork - your cheeks flushed and eyes dazed.