Lysander put his head down on my shoulder. He's always been the touchy-feely one of us. I stroke his hair and look out at the sea, as he sighs. He only does this type of thing when he's upset, or contemplative, or wants to talk about something. "What's up, Sander?" I ask my twin gently.
"I think I'm in love," he answers after a pause, as he flops back onto the grass. Lysander has a way of flopping that's graceful. It's really not fair.
"Aren't you always?" I tease him, lying back against the grass next to him. He groans in annoyance and turns his head away from me. "Alright, who is it? Please, tell me it isn't Scorpius," I tell him.
"Even if I was interested in him, I wouldn't stoop that low," he answers, turning back towards me. Our eyes lock, blue against blue, and I check that he's not lying. He isn't.
"What do you mean?" I ask. I'm seriously confused now.
"Albus and Scorpius," he says bluntly, as if this is the most obvious thing in the entire world. Maybe it is, to someone who actually cares. Of course, I don't care, so this makes absolutely no sense to me.
"They broke up," I tell him. Is it possible that I actually know something that my brother doesn't?
"That was last week," he answers. Right, I forgot how quickly Scorpius can make Albus forget what he's done. It's a good skill to have, but it really sucks for Albus. Albus can never say no. I've seen him cave to the most ridiculous of Scorpius' ideas.
"Is it a Weasley?" I question. He nods. There are so many of them, it's almost impossible that it wouldn't be. "Tell me," I demand. He smashes his lips together stubbornly. I won't be getting any real answers, which means that I'll have to guess. "James?"
"James is dating Hanna Zabini," he replies.
"Albus?" I ask. He rolls his eyes at that. "Lily?"
"No! James would murder me!" Lysander exclaims.
"Fred?" I inquire. He simply shakes his head.
"Roxanne?" I suggest. He wrinkles his nose in disgust.
"Rose?" I interrogate.
"She's experimenting," he replies.
"With what?" I ask.
"Girls," he answers, as if this should be obvious. Maybe I'm clueless.
"Oh. Is it Hugo?" I quiz.
"No! I'd feel like a cradle-robber!" he whisper-yells.
"Molly?" A look of disgust. "Lucy?" A snort. "Victoire?" A look of complete shock. "Dominique?" I query.
"She's dating Jake Finch-Fletchley-Smith," he replies. Poor boy. He has such a long name.
"Teddy?" I exclaim, almost certain I got it right this time.
"He's practically engaged to Victoire, and NOT A WEASLEY!" Lysander yells. It's weird, because he never loses his cool.
"He's close enough," I answer, rolling my eyes. He turns away from me, again, and I'm certain that I've hurt him, though I don't know how. "Wait! It isn't Louis, is it?" I say, propelling myself up at record speed. He turns back to me, looking ashamed. "Oh, Sander," I whisper gently.
"Lor, what am I supposed to do?" he asks me. I understand why he's asking me this. Louis has a reputation of dating anyone. He's charming and beautiful (it's not an opinion, it's a fact) and he knows it – it's the Veela blood. He usually dates someone long enough to get them into his bed and then tosses them aside. Needless to say, he's not your typical Weasley.
"Don't let him in your pants, no matter what," I answer.
"Do you think he'll change?" Lysander questions.
"I don't know," I reply, pulling him into a hug.