Phoebe woke up in her own bed, confused at how she had gotten there. She pushed the edge of her curtain back to see Hermione bustling around, nothing new there then, she could faintly hear the voices of Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown on the other side of the room.

Hermione, having noticed the curtain's movement, sent her a smile in greeting.

"I don't think I've ever woken up without you hurrying me to get ready," Phoebe stated, pushing the curtain back fully so they could talk properly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Don't be so dramatic, of course you have. And, Fred told me not to let you go down to the common room yet, I figured the best way to do that was to let you sleep," she admitted.

Phoebe immediately hopped out of bed and started quickly walking to the door, when Hermione jumped in front of her.

"Oh no, you don't!" She exclaimed, spreading her arms to block the exit, "You'll find out what he's doing soon enough, besides, you can't go in looking like that."

Phoebe glanced down at herself, she was wearing an oversized star wars t-shirt that Leo had given her for Christmas a few years ago, and a pair of fluffy red socks. 

"Fine," she sighed in defeat, "I'll go get dressed."

"You still won't be allowed down there!" Hermione called as she rummaged through her drawers for something to wear.

"Wear something warm!" She commanded when Phoebe didn't reply.

"Why?" Phoebe asked sharply, determined to find out what was going on.

"I can't say," Hermione replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Phoebe groaned and left to the bathroom to go and get ready. When she came out, Parvati and Lavender had disappeared and Hermione was perched on the edge of her bed.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked, thinly concealed excitement in her voice.

"I don't know what I'm ready for, but yeah," Phoebe commented, slightly bitter by all the mystery surrounding whatever was about to happen.

"I think he'll be ready by now," Hermione pondered, ignoring her statement.

Phoebe felt nervous for some reason as Hermione lead her down the stairs, perhaps it was because she knew so little about the situation. Of course, she knew Fred would never do anything to hurt her, but that didn't erase her nerves - stepping blindly into the unknown was scary, no matter who you were walking with.

Entering the common room, Phoebe's eyes immediately focused on the only redhead within the vicinity, hoping to see Fred but falling disappointed when she noticed it was his twin.

"You're not Fred," she stated bluntly, as she reached him.

"I should hope not," George frowned, "I would hate to wake up with that face everyday." 

Phoebe rolled her eyes and laughed, "What a horror that would be."

"I don't know how he deals with it," George shook his head solemnly. 

"George, aren't you supposed to be doing something else?" Hermione asked pointedly, and George snapped into action.

"Oh yeah! I need to get the stuff," he exclaimed, before running up the stairs to the boys' dorms.

Phoebe frowned at his statements, but shook them off.

"Now what?" She asked Hermione, who shook her head to show that she was just as in the dark as Phoebe.

"He was supposed to be here by now," She muttered.

Phoebe briefly wondered if she'd been stood up for a date that she hadn't even been aware of. That would be a new low to reach, Drew Tanaka would never let her hear the end of it.

"My love!" A loud voice snapped her from her thoughts.

"My darling!" She called back before she had even turned to face the voice.

"How are you on this fine day?" He asked, hugging her in greeting.

"I would be much better if I knew what was going on," she answered honestly, pulling away to look at him.

A gleaming grin bloomed on his face, "Then you'll be pleased to hear that you don't have to wait any longer!"

He grabbed her hand and lead her quickly from the common room, leaving her no time to speak a word,  though she faintly heard Hermione say goodbye.

"Where are we going?" She asked eagerly, desperate to find out after such a long wait - which really wasn't that long, but it felt like ages, Phoebe blamed ADHD.

"You'll see," Fred replied and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

Phoebe let out a long groan, which Fred laughed at, "Just a few more minutes," he promised.

Phoebe allowed Fred to lead her through the maze of corridors and out of the Entrance Hall. About halfway there, it hit her that he was taking her to the Black Lake, she was cautious of his intentions; if he made any move to push her into the freezing water, there would be hell to pay.

But there was no surprise dunk in the lake waiting for her, instead there was a neatly laid out blanket, its red and white checks the epitome of Spring. The bright blanket contrasted greatly with the grey sky and dark waters, which made Phoebe wonder why she hadn't noticed it sooner.

"Sit," Fred prompted when she made no move to. She obliged, perching herself on the blanket and getting comfortable. They sat together for a few moments, making small talk as they watched tiny waves lap against the shore around the Black Lake.

It was cold, despite the relatively blue sky, and Phoebe wished she had taken Hermione's advice to dress warmly.

Phoebe turned when she heard footsteps approaching - it was George, a basket hanging from his arm and a bottle of butterbeer clutched in his other hand. His posture was straight and stiff, like a waiter at a fancy restaurant.

"For you sir and madame," He said in an exaggerated, upper-class British accent.

Phoebe turned to look at Fred, a smile blossoming on her face, "You did all this for me?" She asked.

"George helped." Fred admitted, suddenly bashful, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're right I did, I pulled this whole thing together, without me you would have been sat on the floor eating cold sandwiches," George commented, dropping his act.

"Alright, thanks bro, you can leave now." Fred rolled his eyes, shooing away his brother.

George scoffed and muttered, not so quietly, under his breath "'you can leave now', he's forgets his own brother as soon as a pretty girl walks by!" 

The irritated boy put down the basket and bottle and turned to walk back up to the castle, Phoebe could still see him muttering to himself.

Phoebe looked to Fred, to find him already looking at her, they shared a laugh at his twin's antics.

"He's got a case for the dramatics, Georgie has." Fred said in way of explanation.

"I can tell, it's a trait you both share" Phoebe quipped, ignoring Fred's indignant cry, she carried on, "Now lets see what's in this thing."

Sat in the centre of the basket was a bowl of warm melted chocolate, in various little bowls around it were cut up pieces of fruit, berries and multiple flavours of fudge.

"Do you like it?" Fred asked, looking self-conscious.

"Chocolate dipped strawberries? How more cliché can you get?" She teased, pulling out a strawberry, dipping it in chocolate and holding it out to Fred, who ate it in one bite.

"Cliché tastes pretty good to me." Fred grins a chocolatey smile.

He dipped his hand into the basket and pulled out a chocolate strawberry of his own, he held it out for her, wiggling his eyebrows as he waited for her to take it. Phoebe placed it into her mouth and made a show of chewing it before swallowing. She brought her hand up under her chin and tilted her head slightly to the side, pretending to think about it.

"Yeah it's quite nice, I guess," She said after a while.

"Only 'quite nice'?" Fred scoffed in disbelief, "Well then I guess we'll just have to keep trying things until we find one that's amazing"

"I guess we'll have to." Phoebe agreed, picking up a raspberry this time.

"What about that one?" Fred asked once she was done.

"Eh," Phoebe shrugged,

He reached down and picked up a piece of clotted-cream fudge, dunking it generously in the melted chocolate and holding it to her mouth.

"That one was better," Phoebe nodded, once she'd eaten it, licking her lips to clear them of left-over chocolate.

They continued to try different foods, until they both reached the conclusion that, after all that, the strawberries tasted the best.

Phoebe giggled at the smudge of chocolate on his cheek. They'd subconsciously scooted several inches closer to each other during their taste testing, and she was almost close enough to pick out every detail of his face.

The only thing between them was the basket of food, which didn't bother Fred, apparently. Silence fell over them as he leaned precariously over the food, edging closer to her.

His gaze flickered between her eyes and lips, asking a question without using words. She answered by leaning in closer to him, bringing their faces only centimetres apart.

After a moment of staring at each other with soft eyes, neither knowing quite what to do now they'd reached this point, Fred closed the gap, catching her lips in his. It was nice, Phoebe thought, he was warm and tasted like fruit and his hand was soft on her cheek, when did that get there? Her mind was fuzzy and she acted without thinking, bringing her own hand up to touch his and gently intertwining their fingers. 

They pulled back, slightly breathless. His hazel eyes glowed beautifully in the winter sun, warm and safe and gazing so lovingly at her - like no one ever had before.

"That was definitely my favourite," she whispered, not wanting to break the moment.

Fred breathed a laugh, "I think I love you."

"Love is such a cliché," She teased lightly.

"Then I adore you," He says, still looking at her like she's the most precious thing he's ever seen

"I think I adore you too."

"Good," He grins, pushing the picnic basket out of the way so he could get closer, and capturing her lips once again. 

They returned to the common room later that evening dizzy with joy, she left one last parting kiss on his cheek before heading to the sofa and collapsing.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked hesitantly, "'Cause you're looking a little bit demented," he finished bluntly.

"Ronald!" Hermione slapped his arm in disapproval.

"I feel a little bit demented too," Phoebe commented, staring into the distance, "But in a good way... Is that possible?" She asked, looking up at the trio.

"It is when you're in love," Ginny piped up, a teasing grin on her face.

Her mother had never described love as being demented before, then again she had only met her mother in person once.

"Yeah," she answered without really thinking about it; her mind was far away from the conversation - still in the land of picnic blankets and strawberry kisses.

She could vaguely make out laughter from all sides, but didn't register it.

"Come on," an amused voice spoke, its close proximity brining her to attention, "Lets get you to bed, you're acting demented still."

Hermione gently took her by the arms and pulled her up the stairs, sending her into the bathroom to get washed and changed, before instructing her to go to sleep.

Phoebe obeyed every order, but she didn't fall asleep for a long time; a thousand thoughts and emotions whizzing around in her brain prevented her from resting properly.

Eventually, she slipped into a dream-filled sleep. She couldn't remember very well, but Phoebe was fairly sure that she dreamed of a patronus-style raspberry surfing the small waves of the Black Lake. Normally, demigod dreams should be taken seriously, but Phoebe thought it was safe to write that one off.

word count: 2019

So, um, I screamed while writing this ngl.