The Choices We Make ∆ Harry Potter Sister

Chapter 3.12

"I get that you are a Slytherin, but gambling on your own brother's life? That's a little over the line, even for a Slytherin, don't you think?"

Rolling her emerald green eyes, Ellie tried her hardest to refrain herself from slapping the Weasley girl in front of her brothers. Not that she's afraid of them, dear Merlin she's not, but more because she didn't want the twins to see their little sister being hexed til next Monday. Turning around, she plastered the thinnest smile she had ever had, and pushed the wooden box filled with knuts she had in front of her chest.

"Any bets?" asked Ellie sweetly, "Might not want to waste your knuts on Harry's love, though."

Right before she could jumped at the green eyed girl, the youngest Weasley child found herself in her second youngest brother's arm, refraining her from touching so much as a hair of Eleanor Potter. All the same, Ellie found herself in a similar situation where she had both of her hands being held back by the older twin, for he knew far too well that the young Potter was too good at magic that even his sister wouldn't be ready for the jinxes and hexes coming her way.

"Alright ladies," said the younger twin with a short breath as his sister kept struggling in his arms, "We have business to do, so bye Ginny."

George let his sister escape his arms, making her fell on her feet with a thump. Groaning, the youngest Weasley whipped her long red hair around, slapping her brother's chest with her hair, and left with a stomp in her every step. Shaking his head, the younger twin led the trio down the bank of the lake, where they were originally heading, calling for betters.

"You really hate her, huh?" asked the older twin from the corner his mouth as he walked next to the young Potter.

"For the record," said the young Potter as she stopped and pointed her finger back and forth at the older twin, to which he merely raised his hands in surrender, "I had been quite neutral with your dear sister. She hated me right from the start. It's not my fault that she had an unreasonable crush at Harry!"

"Forget about her," said Fred as he casually draped an arm around the young Potter's petite figure, "She's always too stuck up for our own good."

Wrapping her own arm around the older boy's torso in return, she let out a weary breath, "At least she's not the only Weasley who hates me."

Fred knew exactly whom she meant, and why. He also knew that she wasn't alone in her misery. Despite the grin and laughter his brother put on all day, he knew deep down his twin's heart was aching, longing for redemption. Many may not notice it, but he knew all too well that his twin hadn't had a skip in his step for weeks. Cursing under his breath, he decided to finally be the messenger.

"I'm only telling this because I love you, a'ight? My brother doesn't hate you. Hell, he doesn't have enough freckles on him to not like you, does he?"

"So?"

"So, he's an idiot," said Fred as if it was common knowledge, "In all fairness, I, too, am an idiot. We did ditch you at the ball."

"Which I have no problem of," reminded the young Potter, for she truly and wholeheartedly accepted every single of their apologies. She got it, they were in their sixth year, their second to last year. If they want to get crazy, there was no better time than at their sixth year. OWLs had past, NEWT is still a year away, and they knew enough magic to make jokes more interesting. So who's to blame if they decided to go get some fun, even if it wasn't with her?

Letting out a humourless laugh, he told her, "I'm not sure you would say the same if you were with us that night, but alright."

The young Potter merely groaned at the passive aggressive respond she got, which the redheaded boy found it ironically hilarious. Pulling her closer to his side, he squeezed her a tad, "Oh, lighten up, little Elle! We have money to make, don't we?"