[Seems to be a lot of that going around lately. The knowing glances and the lingering touches. The Weasleys have never been good at expressing their emotions verbally, or without physical expression turning into the row they had just a few moments ago. There's so much, so much, that Fred wants to say - but George's look says all of it and he honestly can't stand it. Two halves of a whole, and they've always been appalling good at reading each other. There's no understanding another better, and George understands. He knows, with nothing more than a glance and a jab.
Fred laughs, but he kind of feels like he might cry. What a bunch of girls.]
D'you knock a few screws loose in that holey head of yours when you fell in the fountain, you berk?
i had to find you, had to let you know that you aren't alone;
Fred laughs, but he kind of feels like he might cry. What a bunch of girls.]
D'you knock a few screws loose in that holey head of yours when you fell in the fountain, you berk?