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Penelope waits outside the address given to her by the estate agent and checks her watch. She’s still a little early, but she’s anxious to get her living situation sorted. Looking back up, she’s surprised to see a familiar face.
“Angelina?”
“Pen! Long time no see!” Angelina exclaims, sweeping her into a tight embrace and lifting her off her feet.
Penelope laughs and pats the much taller girl on the back. “It’s nice to see you too, but maybe you could put me down?”
“Right”—she carefully places her back on the ground—“sorry about that.” Angelina grins, not looking the least bit repentant. “You can take the witch out of Gryffindor, but… Well, you know how it goes.”
“Are you here to view the flat as well?” Penelope queries.
Angelina nods, her braids swaying gently with the movement. “I don’t know if you heard, but one of my last flatmates, Katie Bell, got married to Marcus Flint a couple weeks ago, and Alicia just moved to Romania because she and Charlie got tired of the long-distance thing. With everyone I know shacking up, the advertisement came at the perfect time.”
Penelope smiles wryly. “I know what you mean. I’m the only one of my friends who still isn’t married or in a serious relationship. I’m practically a spinster.”
“Oh, shut up,” Angelina snorts, bumping her hip into Penelope’s playfully. “If I roll my eyes any harder they’ll fall out of my head. You’re not even thirty yet, and besides, I’m only a year younger. There’s still hope.”
“If you say so.” Penelope checks her watch again; the estate agent is late. Glancing around she sees a young woman in a smart suit heading their direction at a brisk pace.
Angelina notices her too and says, “You think that’s the agent?”
Penelope purses her lips. “I don’t know. I only conversed with them by owl.”
As she gets closer, they see that her hair is pulled back into a bun—trying and failing to contain unruly curls.
Angelina gasps. “I’d know that hair anywhere!” She takes off in a sprint, athletic legs flashing. “Hermione!” she calls out, waving excitedly.
Penelope can’t stop the giggle that breaks loose as Angelina reaches Hermione and gives her the same bone-crushing hug that she had endured earlier, this time swinging the younger witch in a full circle. The pair start walking back so Penelope meets them half-way.
“Hermione,” Penelope says, giving her a light hug.
“Hi, Penny,” Hermione greets her warmly. “Am I too late to see the flat?”
“Nah, you’re fine. The agent is late,” Angelina says. She throws an arm around both Penelope and Hermione, giving a squeeze. “But I have a feeling that everything’s going to work out perfectly.”
“To our new flat!” Angelina toasts, raising her glass of bitter.
Penelope clinks her G&T against Angelina and Hermione’s drinks. “Our new flat,” she echoes.
Hermione beams at both of them. “I’m so glad that we all answered the ad. What are the odds?”
“Pretty small,” Penelope agrees.
“Oh. My. Gods,” Angelina exclaims, slamming her drink down on the table. “Do you know what I’ve just realised?”
The two other newly-minted flatmates share a puzzled look. Hermione shrugs and Penelope shakes her head. “Tell us,” Hermione urges.
“We were all almost Weasley wives!” Angelina crows, proud of her observation.
Penelope barks a short laugh and immediately covers her mouth to contain any further embarrassing noises, though her shoulders shake with mirth.
Hermione wrinkles her nose, but smiles. “A kiss in the middle of battle and two awkward months of attempted dating are hardly the equivalent of an engagement.”
“But you know Molly probably had each of our weddings planned, if only in her head,” Angelina says, eyes wide with feigned horror.
“You think you’re joking, but when Percy and I got back together briefly after the war, the only thing Molly wanted to talk to me about was how lovely Bill and Fleur’s wedding had been and how it would be so nice to host another one,” Penelope confides.
Hermione chokes on a sip of her cocktail. “I mean, it was beautiful… right until the Death Eaters showed up.”
Angelina winces. “Yeah, part of why George and I didn’t work out was because she would always bring up the Yule Ball and how she had always thought that Fred and I would get married.”
The three girls look at each other with sad smiles. Penelope lifts her glass again. “To Fred,” she says somberly, “and the Weasleys, for bringing people together.”
“Hear, hear!” Angelina shouts. She pokes Hermione in the side, making her giggle. “No more long faces, Fred would disapprove heartily.”
Inspiration strikes Penelope. “We should have a club name,” she declares.
“Yes! You’re brilliant, Pen,” Angelina turns to Hermione. “Any ideas?”
“No, no, no, I shouldn’t choose. My track record with club names is sadly dismal,” Hermione protests.
“Ah, right, SPEW.”
“It was S.P.E.W., thank you,” she replies primly.
Angelina pivots back towards Penelope, brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “What do you think of this? Former Lovers of Boisterous Brothers Exit Romancing Weasleys onto Rental Maintenance?”
All three witches burst out cackling, drawing questioning glances from the pub’s other patrons. They regain control of themselves—barely—until Hermione gasps, “FLOBBERWORM!”, sending them into paroxysms of laughter once more.
Once they settle back down into a comfortable silence, Penelope ventures, “How about what you said earlier, Angelina? Almost Weasley Wives or AWW. It’s certainly cuter than FLOBBERWORM.”
“I like it,” declares Angelina. She smirks and tosses her hair. “And I’m extremely cute.”
Penelope notices Hermione flush, dark eyes watching Angelina. Interesting, she thinks, but puts it from her mind as Angelina makes a final toast.
“To old friends, new flatmates, and to AWW!”
Six Months Later
Penelope smiles to herself when she enters the flat after a long shift at St. Mungo's and sees Angelina and Hermione lounging on the sofa together and watching telly. Their fingers are loosely tangled together and Angelina’s head is lying in Hermione’s lap.
They really are so cute together and probably the best flatmates she has ever had, but Penelope knows she needs to offer to move out so they can have their space as a couple. She appreciates how discreet they've been and how they always make sure to include her in activities, but she worries about intruding on their relationship too much. Surely they don't want to have a perpetual third wheel?
“Penny!” Angelina tucks her legs in, making space. “Come sit with us!”
She kicks off her shoes, tosses her bag on the floor, and slumps next to them.
“Long day?” Angelina chuckles.
“The longest!” Penelope replies. She sighs and closes her eyes, trying to think of how best to broach the topic.
“Is something wrong?” Hermione asks.
Penelope opens her eyes to find two concerned flatmates staring at her with worried expressions.
“I think I should move out!” she blurts, not at all how she intended.
Angelina rockets up into a sitting position in shock. She and Hermione let out twin cries of protest. “What?! Why?!”
“You're both wonderful,” Penelope hastens to assure them, “but since the two of you started dating, I feel like I'm getting in the way of your alone time. And you're so perfect for each other that I'd hate to mess that up.”
Her confession is met with silence and she twists her hands together nervously, waiting for one of them to speak.
“...We’re not dating,” Hermione says slowly, confusion plainly written on her face.
“Oh”—Penelope pauses, flustered—“I’m sorry, I just assumed…”
“Angelina is straight—” Hermione starts to say, but Angelina claps a hand over her mouth.
“Shhh, I want to hear all the reasons why Pen thinks we're a couple.” Angelina winks at Penelope. “Also, you're wrong, little know-it-all—I'm bi.”
Hermione lets out a muffled exclamation, but Angelina’s hand remains in place.
“Go on, Penny,” she encourages.
“Well, it started several months ago. You know each other's favourite foods and takeaway orders, you buy each other little gifts constantly, you always hold hands and fall asleep cuddling… oh! And you both try to smell each other's hair all the time!” Penelope ticks off the reasons on her fingers.
“Angelina, Hermione lights up when you're in the room, like you're the sun to her moon. Her eyes follow you everywhere you go,” Penelope continues, hitting her stride. “Hermione, Angelina calls you baby girl, and sometimes when she looks at you, I swear that I can feel electricity crackling in the air.”
While Penelope finishes making her case, Angelina’s grin spreads across her entire face. She finally drops her hand from Hermione’s mouth, allowing her to speak.
“But… Angelina is that affectionate with everyone,” Hermione protests weakly.
“Wrong again, baby girl,” Angelina says. “It’s just you.”
“Oh… does that mean—” Hermione’s cheeks burn a bright pink and her voice shakes, but there’s a thread of hope running through her words. “Are we… dating?”
“We are now!” Angelina picks up one of Hermione’s hands and places a quick kiss on her knuckles. “Thanks for the assist, Pen. I was wondering why Hermione wasn’t catching onto my hints. By the way, your request to move out is rejected by order of the AWW Council.”
“Definitely no moving out allowed!” Hermione chimes in, agreeing. “You can’t break up the club!”
They both give her their best pleading, puppy-dog eyes.
“Okay, okay! AWW member for life,” Penelope promises, holding up her hands in surrender.
“Good, because if you leave then Hermione and I will have to start a new club, like Finding Love Only By Breaking Every Red-Headed Weasley’s—”
Hermione and Penelope simultaneously cover Angelina's mouth and the three friends collapse into giggles, grateful for whatever stroke of luck brought them together. Penelope wouldn't change a thing.