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The small flat above Weasley's wizard wheezes was thrumming with excitement, people dotted all around as the party raged on, the noise of music and radiant laughter filling the small living space.
The twins were celebrating six whirlwind months of incredibly successful business since the store had opened, exceeding expectations in every way. Your friends were gathered, as well as employees and spouses, each person enjoying themselves as they talked, drank and danced in high spirits.
You were acting as a secondary host, ensuring that the food and drinks were topped up regularly, cleaning spills and messes to allow Fred and George to mingle and talk amongst their friends without worry.
You were undoubtedly enjoying yourself but you couldn't help but feel slightly on edge. You didn't know if it was having so many people in your space, stress from hosting or something else but you had an astute intuition about what could be causing a lingering unease within you. You watched as each person held onto a red solo cup, a novelty that the twins had insisted on using ever since they had seen a couple of your beloved muggle films, seeing that they always seemed to be a vital component of a good party.
A few hours had passed and you had barely seen your boyfriend Fred and his brother George as they made their rounds, chatting with each person and lapping up the abundant praise they were deservedly receiving. You'd spent time with your friends, chatted with Ginny and Hermione and even played a few games of exploding snap with Ron and the group but nothing seemed to squash down the unease you felt whenever someone asked you if you wanted a drink. You'd politely declined every time and had insisted that you be the one to retrieve the drinks, effectively deflecting any unwanted questions about your lack of drink.
You were stood in the kitchen, pouring a cup of cola for yourself whilst grabbing a daisyroot draught for Ron when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrapping around your middle, immediately making you smile. You placed down the cup of cola you were about to drink as a precaution, not knowing would Fred would do next.
"Hello princess," Fred whispers, leaning in to you as he pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck which was unobstructed on account of your high ponytail. He was clearly intoxicated, swaying slightly as he attempted to stand still.
"Businessman Weasley," you teased, earning a playful little squeeze from Fred as he huffed a laugh into your neck.
"Mmm, missed you," he mumbles into your neck as he begins to pepper kisses along the side of your neck, right under your ear. He was slurring just enough for you to realise he was well on his way to being drunk, but not quite there yet.
"I would never have noticed," you teased, turning to spin in his arms to face him so that you could give him a proper kiss.
"Come on, I make food in here," George complained from behind you both, appearing by the door to the kitchen. His tone was playful and not ill-meaning, just dripping with sarcasm.
"I think you'll find, I make food in here," you retorted and he huffed out a laugh, simply nodding and shrugging at your reasoning, accepting that it was the truth.
Fred reached out behind you and grabbed your cup, taking a swig, before frowning at the taste.
"There's no alcohol in here," he says with a tone of disgust, as if it's a crime. You simply shrugged, turning in his arms to reach for Ron's drink that you still hadn't delivered.
"Not drinking eh?" George says, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a pleased smile on his face, trying to stir the pot.
"Oooh, are you pregnant?" Fred teases, leaning down towards you to whisper in your ear so that George couldn't hear, though you couldn't miss the hopefulness in his voice. You knew he was smiling as he pawed at your waist, which made a warm feeling and butterflies wash over you, knowing what he wanted.
"Im not pregnant," you replied quietly, your tone neutral as to not sound too harsh or disappointed. A moment of silence passed between you and you had to fight not to look at Fred, knowing there would be a mild look of disappointment in his face.
"Then why aren't you drinking princess?" Fred asked, recovering quickly and returning to his usual playful and teasing demeanour.
You turned to look towards the door to see that George was currently occupying himself by rifling through the bags of snacks and wasn't paying attention to you.
"It's stupid," you replied, trying to stop his questioning but you should have known that would never had happened, especially with him being so buzzed.
"Nothing you say is stupid sweetheart," he replied, sounding sincere and entirely accepting. You huffed out a breath and accepted your fate, ready to be mercilessly teased.
"I'm worried if I get stupidly drunk, I'll try and climb into bed with George or something," you said, averting your eyes entirely.
It was a passing, joking comment from Ron at the start of the night which had prompted a downward spiral in your thoughts, realising that it could be a genuine possibility that once drunk you wouldn't be able to tell them apart and would make a complete fool of yourself. You'd always prided yourself on being able to tell the twins apart from each other and you were already ashamed at the notion you'd mix them up or worse, try and kiss or climb into bed with the wrong brother. Then Fred would notice and rightfully be furious, George would be disgusted with you, you'd argue, cry and no doubt ruin your relationship with one drunken misstep.
The entire thought was mortifying and admitting it out loud to Fred only seemed to further your mortification on the matter.
You were suddenly brought back to reality at the sound of Fred's tumultuous laughter, seeing that he was nearly doubled over as he chuckled behind you, only worsening your embarrassment. You tried to pull away, feeling humiliated but Fred suddenly sobered up and stopped laughing immediately as he realised that was not the reaction he should have had. He moves to stand behind you once more and grabs your waist, effortlessly spinning you around so that you were caged in his arms, both of his hands resting on the counter each side of you
"That's what your worried about?" He says, looking up into your eyes. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.
"Sweetheart half the people here have called me George at least once tonight."
"Unless I'm mistaken, none of them have tried to kiss you though, thinking that you're George."
He understands immediately what you're saying and brings his hand up to cup your chin, gently forcing you meet his gaze, seeing that he is giving you a soft and understanding look.
"Sweetheart," he says softly, a small smirk tugging at his lips, "Even if that happened, I wouldn't be mad at you, especially if you were drunk, just as long as you didn't actually want George."
You felt an immediate sense of partial relief at his words, but the unease never truly left you, realising that Fred also knew it could be a possibility. You sighed again, and Fred lifted your chin once more. This time you noticed the usual playful look on his face, eyes twinkling with delight which told you he was preparing something.
"Besides, you're being silly," he says smirking, pausing for effect to watch your face contort into a small frown, "I have a much bigger cock than Georgie, you'd soon notice and come running back."