Slytherins, Kisses and Other Disasters
Copyright© 2026 by Caroline Stanton
Chapter 20: The Boy Who Kissed Victoria Crabbe
Harry Potter had survived Voldemort, a Hungarian Horntail, a basilisk, and several encounters with Professor Snape. He was beginning to suspect that none of those experiences had adequately prepared him for Fred and George Weasley. The trouble began approximately forty minutes after his first kiss. Harry was leaving the classroom with Ron and Hermione when a familiar voice called from behind him.
“Harry!”
He turned. Fred Weasley was standing near the foot of the staircase. George stood beside him. Both were smiling. Harry immediately became suspicious.
“What?”
Fred placed a hand over his heart.
“Is that any way to greet your loving friends?”
“Especially,” George added, “when we’ve come to congratulate you?”
Harry stopped. Ron looked interested. Hermione closed her eyes.
“Oh, no.”
Harry stared at the twins.
“Congratulate me for what?”
Fred looked astonished.
“Why, Harry!”
George shook his head.
“Such modesty.”
“Such discretion.”
“Such a gentleman.”
Ron frowned.
“What are you two on about?”
Fred turned to him.
“Ronniekins.”
George leaned closer.
“Have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
Fred smiled broadly.
“Our Harry—”
George placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.
“—has become a man of romance.”
Harry felt a cold sensation in his stomach.
“What?”
Fred grinned.
“Three kisses, Harry?”
George nodded admiringly.
“Three!”
Ron stared. Hermione’s head snapped towards Harry. Harry closed his eyes. Oh, bloody hell. For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then Ron said, “You kissed Crabbe?” Harry opened his eyes.
“Victoria.”
Ron blinked.
“What?”
“Her name’s Victoria.”
Fred sighed theatrically.
“Listen to him, George.”
“So tender.”
“So devoted.”
“So completely doomed.”
Harry glared.
“Will you two shut up?”
George grinned.
“Did you kiss her?”
Harry hesitated. Fred leaned forward.
“Well?”
Harry looked at Hermione. She was watching him with an expression of considerable interest. He looked at Ron. Ron was still staring. Harry sighed.
“Yes.”
Fred threw both arms into the air.
“HE ADMITS IT!”
George applauded.
“Congratulations, Harry!”
Several students turned. Harry grabbed Fred’s sleeve.
“Keep your voice down!”
Fred looked wounded.
“Why?”
“Because it’s none of their business!”
George raised an eyebrow.
“Harry, old chap, I fear that particular broomstick has already left the shed.”
Hermione folded her arms.
“How exactly did you find out?”
Fred looked delighted.
“Ah!”
George nodded.
“Excellent question.”
Fred pointed towards a nearby portrait.
“Mr Wetherby.”
Harry slowly turned. The elderly wizard who had witnessed the kiss was sitting in his painted chair, pretending to read a book. Harry stared at him.
“You.”
Mr Wetherby looked up.
“Oh! Mr Potter. Good afternoon.”
Harry approached the portrait.
“You told everyone?”
The wizard looked offended.
“Certainly not.”
Harry folded his arms.
“Really?”
“I merely mentioned the incident to a few acquaintances.”
“How many?”
Mr Wetherby considered.
“Well, there was Lady Beatrice, Sir Edmund, the two ladies in the tapestry on the third floor, and—”
Harry groaned. Fred laughed. George shook his head.
“Harry, you really ought to know better than to conduct your romantic affairs in front of a portrait.”
Mr Wetherby nodded approvingly.
“Precisely.”
Harry glared at him.
“You could have said something!”
The wizard raised an eyebrow.
“My dear boy, I was attempting to be discreet.”
Hermione made a peculiar noise. Harry turned. She was trying not to laugh.
“Hermione!”
“I’m sorry, Harry.”
She pressed a hand over her mouth.
“It’s just...”
Her shoulders shook. Ron looked between them.
“Hang on. Three kisses?”
Harry closed his eyes again. They eventually persuaded the twins to move away from the crowded staircase. Or rather, Hermione informed them that if they continued shouting about Harry’s private life in the corridor, she would report them for causing a disturbance. Fred and George agreed to relocate. They did not agree to stop talking. The six of them found an empty classroom. Fred closed the door. George pulled out a chair.
“Sit down, Harry.”
Harry stared.
“No.”
Fred looked surprised.
“Why ever not?”
“Because I know what you’re doing.”
George smiled.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Fred nodded.
“Then this should go quickly.”
Ron sat down immediately. Hermione remained standing, looking torn between exasperation and curiosity. Harry sighed. Then sat. Fred clasped his hands.
“Now.”
George leaned forward.
“Tell us everything.”
Harry stared.
“No.”
Fred sighed.
“Harry.”
George shook his head.
“Don’t make this difficult.”
Harry looked at Hermione.
“Help.”
“You did tell us all about your date on Saturday.”
“That was different!”
“How?”
Harry opened his mouth. Then closed it. Hermione smiled.
“Exactly.”
Ron leaned forward.
“All right, forget the twins. Did you really kiss her?”
Harry looked at him.
“Yes.”
Ron blinked.
“Crabbe?”
“Victoria.”
“Right. Victoria.”
Ron shook his head.
“Blimey.”
Harry frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Ron.”
His friend shrugged.
“It’s just...”
He hesitated.
“Six years, Harry. Six years of her threatening to rearrange your face, and now you’re kissing her.”
Fred nodded solemnly.
“A remarkable development.”
George smiled.
“One might even call it a diplomatic breakthrough.”
Harry laughed despite himself.
“Very funny.”
Ron studied him.
“Seriously, though. What happened?”
Harry hesitated. Then smiled.
“We were talking.”
Fred leaned forward.
“About?”
“Things.”
George nodded.
“Fascinating.”
Harry glared.
“We were talking about Saturday. And the gossip.”
“That must have been interesting.”
Harry nodded.
“Apparently the Slytherin girls interrogated her too.”
Fred looked delighted.
“Really?”
“All of them.”
George whistled.
“Good heavens.”
Harry smiled.
“Draconia arranged chairs.”
Fred stared. George stared. Then both burst out laughing.
“Malfoy?” Fred gasped.
“Presiding over a romantic tribunal?”
“Apparently.”
George wiped his eyes.
“Oh, I would have paid good money to see that.”
Harry relaxed a little. He told them about Victoria inviting him to call her Vic. About Georgina receiving two invitations to Hogsmeade in ten minutes. About how happy Victoria was for her friend. Hermione smiled at that.
“That’s lovely.”
Harry nodded.
“She was really pleased.”
Ron frowned.
“Georgina Goyle?”
“Yes.”
“Two boys?”
“Yes, Ron.”
“Well, she’s certainly...”
He hesitated. Fred raised an eyebrow.
“Certainly what, Ronniekins?”
Ron flushed.
“Nothing.”
George grinned.
“Pretty?”
Ron looked annoyed.
“I didn’t say that.”
Fred nodded.
“You didn’t have to.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Honestly.”
Harry laughed.
“Anyway, Vic was telling me about it, and we started talking about Saturday again.”
Fred leaned forward.
“And then?”
Harry hesitated. Then smiled.
“And then we kissed.”
George raised a hand.
“Objection.”
Harry stared.
“What?”
“According to our sources, there was considerably more to it than that.”
Fred nodded.
“Indeed.”
“What did the portrait tell you?”
George grinned.
“Apparently Miss Crabbe asked whether you intended to kiss her or whether she had to do everything herself.”
Ron made a choking noise. Hermione’s eyes widened. Harry turned scarlet. Fred and George exchanged delighted looks.
“Confirmed!” Fred declared.
George nodded.
“Absolutely confirmed.”
Harry covered his face. Ron was laughing now.
“She actually said that?”
Harry nodded miserably.
“Yes.”
Fred sighed happily.
“Wonderful girl.”
George agreed.
“Direct. Decisive. No unnecessary complications.”
Hermione smiled.
“That does sound like Victoria.”
Harry looked up.
“She was nervous.”
That quieted them slightly. Fred tilted his head.
“Was she?”
Harry nodded.
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“So was I.”
Ron stared.
“You?”
Harry laughed.
“Of course me.”
George looked genuinely interested.
“Why?”
“Because I’d never kissed anyone before.”
There was a brief silence. Then Fred nodded.
“Fair enough.”
Harry continued.
“And because I really like her.”
Hermione’s expression softened. Ron looked at him for a moment. Then nodded.
“Right.”
George leaned back.
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