You sat in the Gryffindor common room with your boyfriend Fred and his twin, George, the three of you caught up in a lively, animated conversation. Laughter echoed between you all—teasing, joking, and bantering like usual. It was comfortable. Familiar.

As George launched into a story about their latest prank gone wrong—or right, depending on who you asked—Fred slid his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. You leaned into him, a soft smile on your face as you soaked in the warmth of his side and the easy comfort of being with someone who made you feel safe.

That comfort shifted the moment Angelina walked into the room.

You noticed her smile right away—directed at you, at all of you—but it was her eyes that gave her away. Just for a second, they flicked to Fred. A brief flicker of longing passed through them before she quickly masked it behind a casual expression. But you saw it. And you didn’t like it.

Lately, she had been pushing boundaries. The flirtation, the way she lingered around Fred, trying to carve out time alone with him under the excuse of Quidditch meetings or “needing to talk.” She always acted like it was harmless, always denied it when you brought it up—but her intentions were starting to show.

And it hurt. It hurt because you two had been friends since first year. She knew how you felt about Fred. She knew how much he meant to you. But lately, it felt like that history meant nothing to her.

You’d taken her aside more than once to try and talk about it—to be open, honest. Each time she dismissed you, brushing it off with a laugh or acting offended, claiming you were being dramatic. That you were imagining things. But you weren’t. You could see it. And now? You were running out of patience.

Fred was too. Though he tried to keep the peace, you knew him well enough to see it in his posture, in the forced smile he gave her now. He was trying not to make a scene. But even his kindness had limits.

“Hey, guys,” Angelina greeted, walking over and taking the seat next to George—but her gaze lingered on Fred longer than necessary, as if she thought you wouldn’t notice.

“Hey, Angelina,” you replied, offering a polite smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Fred and George echoed their greetings casually.

“So what are you all up to at the moment?” she asked, looking at George—then shifting her eyes to Fred again. This time, her stare was even more obvious. Fred shifted beside you, subtly pulling you closer into his side, his fingers curling slightly at your waist.

“Just chatting,” Fred replied evenly, though his tone was a bit more guarded now. “Enjoying some downtime after exam week.”

She smiled—at him, not you—and then flicked her eyes over to you with a brightness that almost felt smug.

“We should all do something later,” she suggested, her tone light, but her focus shifting between George, Fred, and you with intentional precision.

You gave her a tight smile, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral even though your stomach was twisting. You couldn’t keep pretending this didn’t bother you. You couldn’t keep letting her blur the lines while denying it every time you brought it up. You’d reached the point where something had to change—soon.

Because if she didn’t back off… you were going to make her.