"Fred..." she called out after a loud sigh. Fred's scrubbing halted but he didn't turn his head, keeping his gaze on the small trail he had been able to clean and rid of the bright paint. Blair crossed her hands and squatted down next to the boy, avoiding the paint that was inches away from the tips of her shoes. She looked at Fred who blinked at the floor, resisting from turning his head and meeting her stare.

"Why can't we just be friends? It would make everything so much easier for everyone," she continued and she wasn't surprised to find him unresponsive. She knew that George had been trying to get an answer out of Fred for the same question but hadn't succeeded. But she thought that if she were the one to confront him and show that she was willing to be civil, she might get a different reaction. Not that she ever showed anything different, but his constant jabs and tendency to tease her sometimes made her act irrationally. But it was just banter and nothing that was meant to target Fred personally.

"Why don't you like me?" she tried again, his scrubbing starting up again and busying him once more.

"I've told you. I do like you," he mumbled and Blair sighed once more.

"Okay, why do you do the things you do, then?"

"I don't know, Blair, why do you do the things you do?"

Blair didn't answer and choose to send him some non-verbal messages through her strong stare. He had finally turned and met her eyes, seeing her unimpressed expression. He put down his brush and straightened his hunched over posture, sitting back on his hands with a sigh of what he could play off as relief from having a rest. But he was really sighing in preparation for launching into his lengthy explanation that he had been bottling up for a while now. Every time he felt the irritation build up in him when he saw Blair and his brother together, he would think of all the possible reasons on why he didn't like Blair. But he had recently realised that it wasn't anything like he had thought.

"You know Georgie and I have been together since birth, right?" he questioned and Blair nodded, giddy at the possibility of hearing the start of a genuine explanation. "We do everything together. Our own mother can't even tell us apart. We're always known as Fred and George, not individuals. People say that could be a bad thing, but I don't think it is. We're the best when we're together.

But then you came along with your snotty attitude and ignored George when he was being his annoying but friendly self. I didn't even want to sit in the same carriage as you on the train last year, but he insisted. Then he set out on this mission to be your friend and brought you to bloody everything! You were at the Gryffindor table and then you were in our common room. And when you weren't around, he was always saying 'Blair this' and 'Blair that'. He was fucking obsessed with you! But you just pranced around with your mangy cat and your depressing air, oblivious to the fact that you had all of his attention! We barely had any time to start things up for our shop! It wasn't until Harry came along with his money and brought George out of his little daydream and buckled down to get some work done. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if he loved you. You're all he cares about."

Blair was expecting maybe a ten second answer which would include something like 'you're too pompous and I just don't like you'. She wasn't expecting a complete journal entry on the exact emotions that Fred had been feeling for the duration of knowing her. He had told her previously that he didn't trust her, but this was a completely new view on their situation.

"You don't like... that I have George's attention?" she repeated in a summary, trying to comprehend it and compact it to be more understandable.

"ALL of his attention," Fred emphasised and huffed, turning his head away to stare at the corridor wall. "Well now that my therapy session is over and I've embarrassed myself beyond measure, how about we forget this ever happened and go back to our old ways?"

"No, this is good. It gives me something to work on," Blair shook her head and Fred snapped his head back around, looking at her with raised eyebrows. "I'm determined to get you to like me. Well, put up with me at least."

"It's not you," he sounded frustrated. "You can't change what George focuses on. It's his choice."

"No, it's my fault as well. I've let it happen and have been too blind to see that he was completely ignoring everything else in his life. I'm sorry for taking him away from you."

"Pft, taking him away from me? We're not fighting over him like some girly cat fight. You can have him, girl," he scoffed and waved his hand dismissively, saying 'girl' in a sassy and stereotypical girly voice.

"You know what I mean."

Fred looked down at the mess that still covered the walls and floor, thinking over what he had just unleashed on to the girl that he was convinced he despised. He didn't want to admit in words that he was jealous of her for the fact of getting all of his twin's attention, despite the fact of being with him since birth and doing everything together up until a year ago. It was useless in hating Blair because of the effect she had on George as it wasn't really her fault. His jealousy could have been considered as admiration. If someone could have such an effect on someone else to make them forget about everything else, why hadn't he experienced such a thing? He knew he wasn't like that with Angelina. Maybe it was time to start getting along with Blair for the sake of his sanity and blood pressure.

"Look, on Friday, I've got Quidditch practice and George said he was going to come and watch. Why don't you persuade him to set up a prank or something instead?" Blair reasoned, pulling Fred out of his thoughts.

"Can you be the one we prank?" he asked, making her eyebrow twitch and suppress a snarky reply.

"Fine."

"Okay then!" he cheered, appearing to glow as he grabbed the brush that had remnants of red and gold paint. He started to scrub at the mess again with a more vigorous and happy twinge in his arm. Blair rolled her eyes before bringing her wand out from her sock and flicking it across her, causing all of the paint and balls up in the arches of the ceiling to be sucked into the tip of her wand.

Fred jumped in surprise as he could now see his own reflection in the tiles and the walls of the corridor were spotless. He whipped his head around in shock and came face to face with the handle of his wand. He followed the arm that held it out for him and saw Blair giving him the tiniest of smiles with her own wand in her other hand. The bucket and brush also popped away and weren't to be seen again, giving the illusion that no mess had ever been made and nothing out of the ordinary occurred that night.

"I'll escort you back to your common room so you don't get caught by Potts," Blair said, shaking Fred's wand for him to take. He blinked with his lips parted, taking his wand and standing to his feet from the floor. Not only was he astonished by Blair impressive charm work that she hadn't even uttered a spell to cast, he couldn't believe that she was letting him off early. He was sure he would be scrubbing the walls and floor into the early hours of the morning.

"You know Rosier, you might just be alright," he beamed with a lopsided grin and started heading off towards the Gryffindor tower, leaving Blair to follow with a roll of her eyes and the hint of a smile on her face.

---

On Friday, Blair just couldn't pull her Quidditch robes on fast enough. The royal blue jersey and white comfortable pants felt euphoric against her skin and she couldn't stop looking in the mirror over her shoulder to see 'Rosier' and the number three that sat underneath it. She tied her hair up into a high ponytail and made her way down the stairs, appearing in the common room that was already littered with the rest of the Ravenclaw team.

"You and I are our only permanent Chasers at the moment, Blair," Roger Davies said to her once she had stepped to be beside Cho Chang. "We're holding tryouts for one Chaser and a sub for Keeper. You're going to have show the Chaser some of the ropes."

"I can do that," she said and the captain nodded, announcing that it was time to head for the Quidditch grounds to collect their brooms that had been sitting in the shed for far too long already.

The evening was cool and the sky had a pleasant orange and purple tinge to it. It was perfect conditions to practice in and the team couldn't be happier to get back into their formations and create a plan that will win the House Cup. They unfortunately hadn't won in years. It was only when Blair first joined the team in her third year that Ravenclaw were set to win the Quidditch cup, but had lost to Slytherin in their final match because of some foul play. Cho was in the hospital wing for the remainder of the year because of Marcus Flint's lack of sportsmanship and vicious flying. But everything seemed to balance out when Professor Dumbledore awarded Gryffindor an absurd amount of points for reasons Blair couldn't be bothered reciting to those who asked. But was Blair still bitter about the loss? Of course not.

"Blair!" George's voice called and she stopped on her pursuit down the hill towards the stadium. George jogged down from the castle with a grin and stopped in front of her, letting his eyes wander over her blue robes and open face that her curtain of hair wasn't covering for once.

"You look brilliant!" he said and kissed her forehead, causing a red flush to appear on Blair's cheeks. "I'll be in the stands. Make sure to wave to me."

"Oh, actually Fred told me that you and him were planning something for tonight," she confessed, trying to feign being clueless about the situation.

"He didn't tell me about it?" George raised a confused eyebrow. "He can wait. I came to watch you."

"You can watch me anytime. Go find Freddie. You spend enough time with me already," Blair made sure to smile brightly and show that she wasn't trying to push him away. Her tone was sincere and assuring, but George was still reluctant in ditching his girlfriend.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Georgie," she stood on her toes and pecked his lips, lowering her eyes for a moment before looking up at him with twinkling eyes.

"Alright... but I want to see you practice next week then."

With that, George turned away and started to make his way back up the hill and towards the castle. He waved over his shoulder once he had made it to the Entrance Hall and disappeared through the arches, leaving Blair to turn around and hurry after her team that had just entered the Quidditch stadium. They grabbed their brooms and met the third years and higher who came to try out for the team's free positions.

"Alright, we've got two places to fill," Roger announced with his hands on his hips, taking the stance of what Superman was known for. Blair resisted the urge to laugh as the third years looked up at him with large eyes and hopeful faces. The other year groups fiddled nervously with their gloves and robes, looking to the team that stood behind their captain.

"Anyone who's here to try out for anything other than Keeper and Chaser, you can leave," the captain's tone was slightly harsh and sent those who were here for other positions walked off the pitch with their heads low. Blair felt bad for a moment but brightened when she saw that six people in total were left.

First up for Chaser was a fifth year called Anthony Goldstein. Blair immediately took a liking to him because of his heritage. His great auntie was Porpetina Goldstein and his great grandmother was Queenie Goldstein. Porpetina married Newt Scammander, writer of the famous book Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Blair had heard all about the man and his passion for the protection and care for magical animals. Whether Anthony was interested in the same things, it was amazing to meet someone who was related to the celebrity.

Anthony was actually quite a good Chaser. He had the speed to avoid bludgers and had a good enough aim to get it through at least one of the three hoops. He was much better than the other Ravenclaws who tried out for the position. He was sure to get the job and the team would have to suffice with the Keeper who was the only one able to sit upright on his broom.

"Alright Goldstein and Runner, you're on the team," Roger said at the end of the tryouts. The two grinned at the mention of their names and the remaining people walked off in a sulk, having their unrealistic dreams of being a Quidditch player thrown in the trash and stomped on by Roger Davies.