A/N: This story is almost entirely typed already, so I’ll make a deal with you, dear reader: three reviews, and you’ll get the next chapter. Please share your thoughts.

It was Charlie that had a crush on her first. Bill had been confused when he’d found out. She was just Anna. He’d known her since first year; she was just one of the guys. Once Charlie liked her, Bill took a second look, and thought perhaps, just maybe, possibly, Charlie was on to something. But he was loathe to admit it. Anna was just one of the guys.

Of course, once he knew that Charlie liked her, he began to notice other people looking at her too. In fact, there was hardly a boy in Hogwarts who hadn’t crushed on her at some point or another in her seven years there. She was one of those blissfully accessible girls. Just one of the guys. With boobs.

Being blissfully accessible had its drawbacks. On the plus side she had plenty of friends, and no enemies. She had a date for every school function, but thing is, she always asked the guy out. Though very fond of her, the lads of Hogwarts seemed to regard her as ‘out of their league.’ While fine to talk to, play Quidditch with and hang out with, no one was willing to risk ruining an easy friendship for a slight romantic possibility. Those who did go out with her never talked about what happened. She was above gossip. Just one of the guys.

“Are you coming to the game?” Anna poked her head through the hangings of Bill’s bed with such sudden enthusiasm that he startled violently.

“Don’t - do - that!” he whacked her on the arm three times with his Charms book. He’d gone to a great deal of trouble to get some quiet time to study. NEWTs were in a month, and he was struggling with Disillusionment Charms. The Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw game had virtually cleared the school of students, thus creating the perfect atmosphere for studying.
“Come on, it starts in five minutes.”
“I’m not going.”
“You have to, you’re Head Boy,” she tickled his ribs viciously with a finger. He picked up the badge off his nightstand and tossed it to her.
“Be me for a day.” Bill pointedly shut the bed hangings and flipped open his textbook.
“What the hell could be so important that you’re going to miss Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor?” she demanded.
“I need to work.”
“You can jack off later,” she threw the bed curtain open again. “Come to the game.”
“Anna,” he forced himself to explain patiently, “I need to get this down. NEWTs -” Anna covered her ears with both hands and sang loudly. Nowhere near the type of student Bill was, she was the kind to approach standardized tests with a sense of dread at her impending mediocrity. Bill whacked her arm with the Charms book again to get her to be quiet.
“You can practice on me later. Just come to the game.”

“Next question.” The pair rounded the corner of the Transfiguration Wing. Up ahead, at the junction of the Charms Wing and the Astronomy Tower, Prefects Roy and Fitz were patrolling. Anna flipped through the Charms textbook at random and scanned for a piece of testable trivia.

“Causes the object to which is it applied to assume a different form or state as instructed.”
“Protean Charm.”
“No.”
“What?” he snatched the book out of her hands for a look.
“Kidding,” she snatched it back. NEWTs absolutely ruined his sense of humour. She started flipping again. The heavy parchment crackled as she turned the pages. Against her hip, her camera made a gentle thumping sound with each step. She never went anywhere without it, in case an artistic opportunity presented itself.
“Causes anxiety, cold sweats, stomach upsets, dilated pupils, sleep disturbances, loss of appetite and neurotic outbursts.” Bill spun his wand through his fingers like a mini-baton, thinking. He couldn’t for the life of him remember Flitwick mentioning any charm that caused all those things. He couldn’t recall reading anything about such a spell either. But he didn’t want to admit that to Anna, who was now whistling under her breath as they half-heartedly patrolled the halls.
“Is your badge upside down?”
“Yes it is. Don’t change the subject. Ten seconds,” Anna warned. He spun the wand faster, thinking madly. “Don’t worry,” she said gently. “I’ll only tell everybody that the great Bill Weasley didn’t know an answer.” He shot her a dirty look.
“Have you even started studying yet?” he demanded. NEWTs were only two weeks away. He hadn’t seen her crack a book yet.
“I am studying,” she replied, offended. “And I happen to know the answer that you obviously do not.”
“Of course you do, you’re holding the book.” He made to grab it from her but she clapped it shut and dodged his arm.
“Well? What’s the answer?” she smirked, book open. She was walking backwards, facing him.
“I don’t know,” he admitted grudgingly. Anna clapped the book shut again.
“You don’t know what causes anxiety, cold sweats, stomach upsets, dilated pupils, sleep disturbances, loss of appetite and neurotic outbursts?!” she feigned awe. “How do you live with yourself not knowing?”
“What is it?” Bill snapped. He didn’t appreciate being made to feel a fool by a girl with an ‘A’ average. Anna grinned.
“Duh, NEWTs.” She raised her camera to capture the murderous expression.

Anna was above gossip. Even simple questions like, “Are you going out with her again?” were never asked. If anyone was lucky enough to be asked out by her, or brave enough to ask her (and they called themselves Gryffindors…) was never expected to share the details of the date. It just wasn’t done.

That is why no one ever knew about the kiss during prefect patrols. No one saw, and Bill never talked about it.

“Two third years snogging behind Sir Wulfric,” Bill guessed. They livened up their patrol by playing Bet the Lollipop. They made small, inconsequential wagers about their prefect responsibilities, passing the lollipop back and forth for each correct guess, and whoever was in possession of the sweet at the end of the night got to eat it.

“Nope,” Anna lifted the tapestry of Sir Wulfric to expose the alcove behind. “No third years.” She stepped into the alcove, casting Lumos and scanning the floor for incriminating evidence of activity or stashed illegal substances. Bill, who had the advantage of height, probed the ceiling stones with his hand, looking for a false brick or hidden nook. Students could be really inventive, if they felt the need. And Fred and George felt the need quite often.

“Clear.” She finished searching the floor and stood up. “And mine,” Anna reached into the pocket of Bill’s robes and grabbed the lollipop, but not without soliciting a sharp intake of breath from her patrol mate. Anna giggled.
“NEWTs cutting into your ‘me time’?” she teased. Bill glared. Fortunately there was insufficient light in the small room for her to see the red tinge in the tips of his ears. “Relax, you’re brilliant. You’ll do fine. Knox.” The light went out in the tiny space. Darkness descended, and for the barest instant Bill felt her lips on his. There was a flash of light, as she pushed the tapestry aside and stepped into the hall. Bill stood there for a moment, not breathing, his fingers on his lips.
“Peeves in the Astronomy Tower,” Anna guessed, snapping him back to reality. He let out a steeling breath and stepped out of the alcove.

They paused for a few minutes in the Astronomy Tower for Anna to take pictures. She always saw the tower as a fantastic photographic opportunity. Aside from the beautiful landscape shots she could take from such a high point, the classroom was full of interesting objects to photograph; moving models of the galaxy, posed telescopes, shadows on the ceiling, Sinistra’s grade log…

“Chemical composition of a -”

“Ha!” Anna cut him off. She was fiddling with her camera, changing out one roll of film for another. “You dropped potions. How the hell would you know?”

“You didn’t, so you have to know,” he pointed out. “Chemical composition of lovage.”

“Polycarbon, basic, low-reactivity phosphate. How is it used?” she smirked.

“Hell if I know, that’s your job,” he replied easily.

“Sometimes I wonder how much of this stuff we’re actually going to use after Hogwarts. I’m never going to be a Herbologist.”

“You’ll have the option.”

“Incantation for the Patronus Charm.”

“Expecto patronum,” Bill replied immediately. Wandlessly, he performed the wrist motion in midair. Anna shut the back of her camera and began winding the film forward.

“Go to bed,” she ordered a passing second-year. It was nearing curfew, and they were clearing the halls of stragglers. “Can you do a patronus?”

“Sometimes.” Thus far, his results had been inconsistent.

“What is it?”

“Can’t tell yet.”

“I bet it’s a German Shepherd,” she said with a nod. Anna paused to take a picture of Aloysus Dreyfus in the golden light of the sunset, filtering through the tempered glass.

“Why that?”

“Seems likely,” she shrugged. “Loyal. Brave. Competitive. Persistent,” she said with a roll of her eyes. If he left off studying for even five minutes, she’d be happy. She’d thought the study-mania leading up to OWLs had been bad. Anna had hoped that after the 12 O’s, he’d mellow out a bit about schoolwork and go back to being good-natured Bill. And he had. But now NEWTs had re-corrupted him.

“What are you doing being friends with a dummy like me, anyway?” she asked, turning her lens on him. She adjusted the light filter carefully, watching him squirm under her discerning eye. She took her time taking the picture, just to watch his self-conscious twitches. For such a good looking, good-natured, well-liked young man, he had his own personal doubts.

“You’re amusing,” he replied drolly. She circled him, snapping multiple photos.

“You’ll have to credit me in your valedictorian speech,” she smiled. “That freak, her name escapes me…the one with the camera, who used to do the stupidest things, but at least she was amusing…” she mimicked his voice.

“Shut it,” he covered her lens with his hand. “Go to bed,” he said to a passing fifth-year, who rolled her eyes.

“Are you taking Beth to graduation?” she teased. Beth, the Head Girl, was about as enjoyable a date as a potted plant. Under the dictates of tradition, he’d have to dance with her at least once after the ceremony, but that was where he wanted his contact with her to end. Bill made a face, and Anna laughed.

“I’m going to enjoy your pain,” she grinned. “And get photographic evidence.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’ll mail the print to your mum and tell her that you and Beth got on ever so sweetly.” Anna skipped down the hall ahead of him, towards the common room. “Before you know it she’ll be inviting Beth ‘round to supper, and you’ll have to put up with that girl in your house!” Bill caught up to her and grabbed her in a headlock. He’d perfected it on Percy years ago. Anna was no match.

“Perhaps I’ll take you, goof,” he smirked. “My mum wouldn’t want you around for dinner.” Anna made a noise of mock offence. She knew Mrs. Weasley found her at least as amusing as Bill did.

“Who says I’d go with you?” she returned indignantly.

“Try not to act coerced,” he replied easily. Anna laughed, slightly muffled by his forearm around her neck. A fourth-year stopped to stare at them on his way to the common room. Anna looked up from her bent-double position and told him to jog on.

“You’d think he’d never seen the Head Boy strangling a Prefect before,” Anna shook her head, disillusioned.

The five of them cut out of the graduation dance early. They changed into more ‘suitable’ clothing and marched off to Hogsmeade to apparate. Who needs a chaperoned school dance when the Weird Sisters were playing in London?

They screamed themselves hoarse until three in the morning, and then went to a bar that Tim’s cousin’s stepsister had told him about. It was a dive, but perfect for adrenaline-hyped students looking for a cheap drink with no discerning taste.
“To becoming working stiffs!” Greg toasted.

“First one to puke drives,” Anna said some time later. They’d each had more than their share of cheap beers and shooters, and the event seemed forthcoming.

“We didn’t drive,” Tim reminded her with a slur.

“Oh yeah.” She let her head rest on the dirty table and giggled. Anna was a tired drunk. Greg became sentimental and apologetic. Tim slurred his words and like to pick fights. Steve couldn’t hold his liquor worth a damn. Bill became a quiet, thoughtful drunk if he was drinking wine or liquor, and an affectionate drunk if beer was served. He lounged peacefully in his corner of the booth, calmly riding the buzz. Steve left the table and stumbled to the bathroom. The other four didn’t seem to notice his absence. Anna let her head fall sideways to rest on Bill’s shoulder. He looked over at her like she was something strange and alien, but decided she was no threat, and let her head stay there.

“I’m gunna rest for a minute,” she said, curling into the fetal position. Her head slipped from his shoulder and rested on his knee. She balled herself up comfortably on the dirty booth bench. “Don’t draw on my face.”

Bill didn’t want to apparate directly to the Burrow. The crack would wake his parents, and he didn’t want his mum to know the ungodly hour he’d returned at. The nearest public apparition point was in Ottery St. Catchpole, a fair walk from the house. Anna lived with her elderly aunt, dead east of the Burrow. The pair of them stumbled out of the apparition point - a public toilet - at quarter to five.

“If you pass out, I’m leaving you in the street,” she said to Bill as they started their long walk home. Bill put an arm lazily around her shoulders, and the pair of them swayed.

‘If you pass out, I’ll…I’ll…what’s that noise?” he turned to peer into the alley, where a group of stray cats were digging through the rubbish bins.

“Bloody hell…” Anna swore quietly. She reached into her pocket and took out a few small vials. “This is gonna hurt tomorrow.” Bill tried to agree with a nod, but the motion made him dizzy and he nearly stumbled. Anna uncorked a vial and drank half.
“Have some now,” she passed him the glass tube.
“What?”
“Hangover potion.”

The effect of taking such a potion so soon was immediately wonderful, but not so grand in the long-term. For the moment, it brought them back to a level of sobriety much like they’d experienced after one beer each. Problem was, the potion didn’t last nearly as long if taken before the hangover had time to arrive. They wouldn’t be spared from the pain entirely. The hangover would arrive with full force upon waking.

“Look,” Anna cast Lumos and held her wand aloft. They were at the fork that divided the dirt paths leading to the Burrow, just visible in the distance, and Anna’s house, two hills over. The light from her wand shone on the tree that stood at the fork, in whose branches stood a tree house. “They finished it.”

Anna put out the light and began climbing the rungs the young builders had nailed to the trunk of the tree.

“They did a good job,” she remarked, inspecting the small structure in the half-light of the moon. Bill stood below and looked up at her. “Did you ever build a tree house?” she asked. She stuck her head out the door and peered down at him. Bill shook his head. Anna nodded hers. “Come on up.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Anna admitted as Bill settled himself on the floor of the tiny shack.
“No?” he asked tentatively. Anna shook her head.
“I’m moving out as soon as I get a job. I can’t stand another day with that woman. I’m sick of sitting around watching her die.” Bill knew that Anna’s aunt was a frail woman. It was Anna who took care of her, instead of the other way around. The poor woman was in such ill health that last rites had been performed six times in the past year. All six times Anna had been pulled out of some lesson or another to go to her aunt’s deathbed, causing further disruption to her studies. Anna laid down on her side on the rough plank floor of the tree house.
“You’re not planning to sleep here, are you?” Bill asked, shocked.
“Why not?”
“Because you shouldn’t.”
“Said the bloke who’s planning to spend months living in a tent in Egypt.” Anna yawned widely. “I think you should sleep here too. It’d be good practice for you.” Bill looked doubtful. “I promise I won’t tell your mum how pissed you were?” she offered.
“You’re being downright reckless,” Bill admonished her. He spoke to her the way he often spoke to his younger siblings; she often acted like one. “This is foolish. Go home.”
“It’s warm out. It’s reasonably safe. I won‘t be alone.”

“This is ridiculous,” Bill said half an hour later. They were lying on their backs, looking up through the hole the builders had deliberately left in the roof. The stars were brightly visible, but starting to fade with the impending dawn.
“Shut it,” she said affectionately. “Riddle me this: how many students do you think have gotten around the Prefects and shagged his past year?”
“None.”
“Oh, that’s realistic,” she rolled her eyes. “Then again, you were always a model student.”
“So were you.”
“Ha.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he turned his head to the side to look at her.
“Not shagging, no, but I’ve snuck off to snog a few times.”
“Lucky bloke,” Bill said abstractedly.
“Did you ever sneak off?”
“I did not,” he replied with tired annoyance. Anna giggled. She thought he was lying.
“Always a good boy.”
“You kissed me a few weeks ago,” he said broadly, hoping she would offer some explanation. He heard Anna make a small amused sound next to him.
“Anything to distract you from NEWTs, eh?”
“You’re awful,” he smirked.
“It worked.” Anna stretched her arms over her head and arched her back like a cat. She yawned softly, and let her body relax into the floorboards with a soft ‘whuff‘. “Did you ever think about sneaking off though?”
“Once or twice.” Anna smirked; there was her real answer.
“Did you ever bring Claire up to the boy’s dorm?” He could hear her smirking. Claire, his fifth-year girlfriend, was the portrait of conservative ideals. Their relationship had been short-lived, but she never would have gone for something like that.
“Oh, every night,” he grinned. Anna guffawed. She curled into a ball of laughter and rolled back and forth with hysterics.
“I knew it!” she giggled. Bill let her have her giggle-fit. It took her several minutes to work it out of her system, and collapse to the floor with a wistful sigh. “I can’t imagine being a virgin on my wedding night,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose.
“Didn’t think so.”
“Can you?” she asked. Bill shrugged. He was indifferent to the issue. “I don’t even want to do it for the first time with someone I’m dating,” she said. “Just a stranger, or an acquaintance, so there’s no pressure. And if it’s bad, it’s only a one time thing, and both people can forget about it.”
“Sounds real special,” Bill drawled.
“Well that’s the point. It’s special because it’s liberating. It’s self-discovery, instead of pressure to perform. There’s no worrying about how the rest of the relationship is going to hinge off these few minutes of physical contact.”
“I don’t think it does,” he said philosophically. Anna turned her head to look at him.
“You’d stay with a woman for the rest of your life if the sex was bad?”
“If we were married, yeah.”
“What if she was into really weird things?”
“I guess.”
“What if she didn’t want to have sex at all?”
“I’ve gone this long.”
Anna shook her head, awed. “You’re more tolerant than I am.”
“You’re just too liberal; that’s it.” he teased.
“You’re too conservative,” she argued. “Seriously, virgin at the altar?”
“Probably not,” he admitted. He felt oddly shy, and felt his ears and cheeks go red. There was a strong taste of guilt to the admission; his parents had raised him to be more respectful of women.
“I just want respect and trust that first time…nothing more,” Anna said thoughtfully. Bill nodded. His hair made a soft swishing sound against the floorboards. It was starting to get long. He’d have to cut it soon; or not. “Love can wait,” she sighed.

He heard her hair rub against the floor as she turned her head, and turned his own to look at her. Just like in the alcove behind Sir Wulfric, she surprised him with a sudden kiss. But this one wasn’t fleeting. It lingered on his lips, and he waited for her to pull away. It didn’t occur to him that he could pull away from her. Her hand snaked up to cup his cheek. She ran her fingertips experimentally across the light stubble, and caressed his ear affectionately. Bill broke away by only a few millimetres.

“What are we doing?” he whispered. It was nearly frightening, but in that same thrilling way a rough game of Quidditch could be. Anna looked open and innocent.
“I don’t know.” She bent her neck to kiss him tenderly again.

“What time did you get home?” Bill cracked an eyelid and looked up at his mother. Molly stood, arms crossed, bearing down on him. Her wand was plainly visible in her right hand. Bill had a feeling she already knew the answer.
“Late,” he replied noncommittally.
“I’d say early,” she replied testily. Bill looked at the clock on his nightstand. It was only eight. The first day of summer. The others should be home already. But where was -?
“Hey Bill!” Charlie practically yelled. He slammed the bedroom door behind him. Both of Bill’s hands reflexively went to his head to stop it from exploding. “Good morning!” he hollered pointedly.
“Off with you,” Molly scolded, waving away her second-born.

Molly showed absolutely no sympathy for his hangover, and put Bill to work. She was making him pay for his irresponsible behaviour the night before. Without the benefit of a hangover potion, and going on only two hours sleep, he was truly suffering by noon. Ginny found him vomiting behind the rhododendrons when he was supposed to be weeding the flowerbed. Bless her, she promised not to tell anyone and even brought him a cup of water. Sometimes it pays to be the favourite brother.

Bill escaped from manual labor after supper, and decided to make the long trek to Anna's house. He wanted to speak to her. He could have apparated, but he needed the time to think. A long walk would be perfect.

The front door was open, with only the screen door blocking the bugs and critters from the house. Bill knocked timidly on the doorframe. Anna’s house scared him. Actually, Anna’s aunt frightened him. Her voice carried down the stairs and through the screen door.

“It’s open!” Bill stepped inside and quietly shut the door. Her aunt slept often, and although Anna had no scruples about making noise (“She sleeps like a log, trust me”) Bill felt guilty about being loud around her aunt. He peered into the sitting room where the frail old woman was sleeping in her chair. She looked dead, but she always did, so he didn’t think it worth checking. Bill mounted the stairs, following the sound of Anna’s noise.

She was packing. “I got a job,” she smiled brightly. “Photography for The Quibbler.”

“Congratulations.” It sounded trite and empty. “What about your aunt?”

“Is she not dead yet?” Anna stepped past him and stuck her head out the door to listen. No sounds of life issued from below. Bill buried his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders as though his shirt was too tight. He felt guilty and uncomfortable, just looking at her.

“Alright?” Anna asked. He shook his head.

“About last night…” he trailed off. He licked his lips, trying to find the right phrase for what he was feeling. “I think…I mean, I feel, I’m sorry we did that.”

“Are you?” Her voice was neutral. Her face belied nothing. Bill looked away and shrugged helplessly.

“I dunno. I mean, it wasn’t…” he trailed off again.

“I enjoyed it. I trusted you, it was non-committal… Do you regret it, or are you disappointed?”

“Neither…both.” He made that uncomfortable shrug again. “I regret that it wasn’t exactly special,” he said simply.

“You hopeless romantic,” she shook her head and smiled. “Under the stars, in a tree, between best friends…It was special.” Strangely, that made him feel a bit better.

“I’m still a little disappointed in myself,” he admitted. “I feel like I took advantage of you.”

“I kissed you.”

“I didn’t say stop.”

“I didn’t either.”

“Yeah, but…” he trailed off again, looking unsettled.

“Don’t regret your first time. Enjoy it for what it was,” she smiled gently. “You seemed to be enjoying it at the time.” He turned bright red from hairline to collar. He’d replayed the events in his head several times on his way to her house, and felt a guilty pleasure at having enjoyed it so thoroughly.

“I still feel bad. I don’t like you that way…I think that’s why I feel like I used you.”

“I don’t like you that way either,” Anna admitted freely. “I don’t really like men at all, actually.” Her arms were folded, as if to protect herself. Bill stared at her for a moment, confused.

“But, you went out with all those guys at Hogwarts…”

“I gave it a shot,” she admitted. “And then I just did it to keep up appearances. I kissed you because I thought if even Bill doesn’t do it for me, it’s a sure thing.” He flushed at that. Since he’d walked in the door he’d been unaccountably shy, but hearing that just made it worse. “Last night was…perfect. But life goes on, and I’m gonna move to London. Start over."

Bill didn’t see her for the rest of July, and although they wrote, it seemed unlikely that he’d see and of his old Hogwarts friends very often over the next few years. Working in Egypt was sure to remove him from the availability of regular contact with the people who’d been his second family.

It was by pure luck that he met her in Diagon Alley, just before he left for Africa. She was coming out of Ferguson Images, a shop that sold cheap cameras, wirelesses, watches, and other mechanical paraphernalia. She was carrying a box labelled Kodak. Anna didn’t by her film by the roll; she bought it by the crate.

“Morning Mr. Weasley!” she said brightly, greeting him as though he was a stranger.

“Oh shut it,” he grinned. Percy, standing beside him, cleared his throat. Though only in second year when Anna graduated, he had not been exempt from the “crush on Anna” phenomenon. And clearly her formal greeting had done it for him.

“That’s Percy,” Bill said offhandedly with barely a glance at his younger brother. Percy’s face fell. He knew well enough when he was being excluded.

“He looks so cute and innocent,” Anna smirked. Percy’s stricken face turned into a flushed glare at being called “cute.” Anna turned to Bill. “When are you shipping off to Africa?”

“Just over a week. Do you live near here?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m living out of the Leaky Cauldron for now. I’m moving in a few days.”

“How’s the Quibbler?” Percy began to look bored and fidgety. Still morose and insulted, he sulkingly pushed his glasses farther up his nose.

“Didn’t pan out. I’ve got a job out of the country. It’s only temporary, but it pays well.”

“Good, good.” He felt like he was talking to a stranger, but had the bizarre urge to hug her.

“Mum’s waiting,” Percy pointed out. Bill shot him an annoyed look but conceded his point.

“We’d better get going.”

“Okay.” She suddenly set down her crate of film and hopped on top. Anna hugged him, standing at equal height, and then hopped off and walked away like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bill caught Percy looking after her longingly and pointedly steered his brother away.

A/N: you may have noticed that Bill wasn’t the “wonderful older brother” or the “carefree student” in this. Frankly, I don’t buy either theory. He’s already in his twenties by book one, and therefore much more mature. He was a teenager once, and had the attitude to go with it. The carefree student is unrealistic too. You don’t achieve twelve O’s on OWLs without trying. Even Hermione wasn’t that naturally brilliant, and she didn’t get all O’s.