Hi guys! I was walking home today and I had a great idea in my head for another fanfic! I hope you enjoy and please leave reviews and your thoughts on this story! :) Thank you! xx
George left the Ministry of Magic, passing the witches and wizards dressed smartly on his way out. He left his father in his office after discussing his business. Seeing as Fred had gone now, the business was getting a little much for him, but he refused to give it up. He stood in the telephone box and it went up and into London. Soon, he opened the door and stepped, putting his hands in his pockets to warm them up on the cold winters afternoon.
"Joe! Joe... oooft!" shouted a girl as she bumped into George walking in the opposite direction to her. "Sorry..." she whispered, turning her head back to Joe. He turned and looked at her and nodded quietly, letting her pass. He looked into her eyes and felt a strange sensation. The girl looked devastated and was running after a brown haired boy who was clutching his nose with a tissue. George frowned and followed the girl swiftly, taking long strides behind them. He was up to no good... again.
"Joe, please... Joe it was only a joke - "
"A joke?! Look at me! I'm covered in blood because of your stupid 'joke," he snapped and the girl took a step back. She looked at the bloody tissue and sighed heavily.
"I'm sorry... alright? The joke got a bit out of hand..." she whispered, lowering her head.
"Emma, every single prank you pull fails or gets out of hand. And one way or another you end up hurting me. I've had enough of your childish behaviour. Grow up. It's over," he shouted and Emma began to breath heavily, tears running down her cheek. He walked away and left Emma stood alone, slowly beginning to cry.
"Hey, you OK?" asked George, stepping towards her and she turned quickly, staring into his beautiful green eyes.
"Do I look it?" she snapped, wiping away her tears with her sleeve and looking embarrassed. She fixed her bobble hat and her scarf, tying it tightly around her neck to keep her warm from the chilly breeze. "Sorry..." she whispered and George smiled.
"So, it seems you need some help with your prank skills. I'm just the man you're looking for," he said, bowing down low and dramatically and making Emma giggle.
"Sorry... who are you?" she asked, confused by his informal gestures and the way in which he spoke.
"George. George Weasley," he said a little more formally, shaking her hand roughly and she smiled, blushing at his handsome face. She looked at him properly. His hair was thick and a fiery red, covering his forehead slightly. He had freckles and a cheeky grin. She noticed how tall he was. "You got a name?" he asked, smirking and realising that she was staring at his body.
"Er... yes. My names Emma. Emma Beal," she replied, smiling up at his lovely face.
"Emma Beal? Sounds familiar..." whispered George and she blushed.
"Really?" she asked, confused.
"Eh... who knows. Might be another Emma I know," he joked, smiling goofily down at her. George stared into her green eyes, the exact same colour as his! She had long curly hair, and she was Petit and curvy. She had long legs and looked fashionable. It was only then that George realised that she was a muggle, and very different to him. He slipped his hand out of hers and backed away slightly, watching her face as she slowly frowned.
"Are you OK?" she asked, walking towards him and he nodded.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Listen... er, what are you doing later?" he asked and Emma smiled quickly.
"Nothing," she whispered and he smiled back, his grin spreading across his face. Emma resisted the urge to kiss him right on the spot, after knowing him for only minutes but she felt a deep connection with him, something strange. "Here's my number," she muttered, taking out a small card and handing it to him.
"Thanks. I'll call you tonight," he said, approving the neatness of the card and how formal it was. She smiled and walked away, waving as she left. As she reached the corner, she leant against the wall and sighed to herself, moaning at what she had done.
"God! Emma... only you would date a muggle like him..." she whispered, annoyed at herself.
George stood holding the card, annoyed with himself. He sat heavily down on a cold bench and muttered. "Great one, George. Dating another muggle. Wonder how this one will turn out..." he said as he placed his head in his hands, shaking it slowly.
Oo...OoO...oO
Emma opened the door to her flat and slammed the door shut. She was alone at last, and she saw that a letter was by the letter box. Picking it up, she opened it and saw a letter addressed to her in Joe's writing.
There's a box of your things at my place. Come and get them tonight. Bring mine to me. See you later. Joe.
Emma crumpled up the piece of paper with rage and chucked it into the nearby bin with anger rumbling through her body. She let out a scream and ran to the sofa, collapsing on it and slowly reaching to turn on the TV.
"Welcome to Date House! Today, four beautiful individuals will be winning a prize. But which pair will succeed? Today's contestants are... Emma - " And Emma turned the TV off and groaned into her pillow.
"Jesus... only you Emma. This is why they don't let you use magic in front of muggles! Because you always mess it up," she whispered to herself angrily. She walked into her bedroom and turned to hear the phone ring. She reached over and picked it up.
"HELLO?" shouted someone down the phone and she pulled the phone away from her ear, wincing at the loudness coming from the other side.
"No need to shout! Who is this?" she asked, a little softer, hoping that the other person would do the same.
"Oh... sorry. I don't really use phones. It's George," he said cheerfully and Emma smiled. Doesn't use phones? Strange... she thought. She shook her head and went to speak.
"George, hi! You OK?" she asked, sitting down on her sofa and grabbing her wand, flicking on the nearby coffee machine which started to whirr and make a coffee for her.
"Yeah, I'm fine thanks. Hope you're feeling better?" he asked and she warmed up inside. Finally... someone actually cares about her and is not neglecting her because of who she was.
"I'm OK now," she added and she sensed his smile.
"So, tonight? Six? I'll meet you at yours if you like," he said quietly and she could tell that he was nervous.
"Sounds great, see you then," she muttered and all she heard from the other line was muttering and annoying tones as if someone was trying to get him off the phone. The line went dead and she smirked, putting the phone aside and making her coffee levitate towards her and placing it on a mat in front of her. She sighed and checked her clock.
"Shit!" she shouted, getting up quickly and knocking her coffee on the floor. She grabbed her wand and a red spark flew out of it as she coffee disappeared and the mug rose gently back onto the mat. She ran into her room and got dressed into a pair of black skinny jeans, a pain blouse and some heeled boots. She quickly grabbed her jacket, coat and scarf and her bag. As she filled her bag with her purse, phone, essentials the door knocked. She panicked as she saw her wand lying on the table and she grabbed it, placing it in her bag quickly. She ran to the door and opened it, looking flushed.
"Hello... are you OK? You look a little red?" he asked, frowning and she shook her head. "
No, I'm fine," she whispered, attempting to catch her breath. He took her arm and they headed downstairs and into the cold night. She looked up and put on her coat, wrapping her long scarf around her neck. Suddenly, she felt Georges arm pull her into him to the side and they walked down the street.
"Brrr... cold, isn't it?" he said, smiling down at her and she simply nodded. "Like French food?" he asked and she nodded, a little more dramatically and enthusiastic than before.
"Love it," she said, and they walked in hand in hand into the restaurant. They were greeted by a waiter dressed in black and white and looking very clean cut. He had a small moustache and was a typical French man.
"Bonjour, Monsieur, Mademoiselle," said the French man, bowing at them both. Emma smiled.
"Bonjour," she replied. "Pourrions-nous avoir une table pour deux, s'il vous plaît?" she asked and Georges mouth opened, and his eyes widened. He didn't know she was fluent French and she simply smiled at the waiter who gleamed at her.
"Oui, oui oui!" he exclaimed, grabbing two menus and heading them to a lovely small table by the window, overlooking the beautful London at night. He gave them both the menus and she smiled up at the waiter, George still in awe.
"Merci," she said to the waiter who blushed and left them to decide what to eat.
"I didn't know you spoke French," whispered George, his eyes still wide and she giggled.
"I would be surprised if you did. We hardly know each other," she whispered back, smiling as she gazed down at her menu and deciding what to eat. "Snails seems nice," she whispered and George let out a cough, then downing some water quickly. "You alright?" she asked, shocked at his reaction.
"Snails?!" she shouted, horrified.
"Yes... they're not as bad as they sound," she said, giggling at the fact that George was feeling sick about the thought of eating snails.
"I guess I could try... one... so Emma. Where you from?" he asked, putting down his menu and taking the wine from the waiter who smiled politely. He opened the bottle with a pop and filled their glasses with red wine, waiting for her answer.
"France. I came here to work," she whispered, and something made her feel upset and she looked down at the table, fiddling the table cloth.
"No wonder you're so good at French. So, why did you come here instead of staying in France?" he asked and she simply looked up, expressionless.
"Work, like I said. I never liked it where I lived. I attended a sort of boarding school there till I was 18 and left here to get a job," she said quickly, and Georges eyebrows rose.
"Left your family? Wow... you've got guts," he said, smiling and impressed with Emma's attitude as he sipped his wine. He tasted it and slapped his lips together, enjoying the wine.
"I never knew my family," she whispered, picking at her nails and George looked up, his expression turning sad.
"Oh... I'm sorry," he whispered. She smiled and shook her head roughly.
"I don't like to think about it. Anyway, what about you? Where are you from?" she asked kindly, sipping her drink and attempting to switch the conversation, but George wanted to know more about her.
"Cornwall. I live in London though, work here like you," he said, his mouth twitching into a sly smile and she blushed. The things rebellious smiles could do to her... "Anyway... my turn to ask a question," he said, sipping his wine and she looked up at him, smirking.
"Oh, so that's how we're playing this?" she said, winking at him and for the first time in a long while George blushed. He was enjoying this game thoroughly.
"Indeed, we are Miss Beal. So, my turn. What happened to your family? Where did you live all those years?" he asked, curious and knowing that he was diving into a delicate topic, but he was willing to take the risk.
"Er... George it's private. Maybe once I get to know you a little better, maybe on another date I'll tell you," she whispered and George nodded, placing his hand on hers and she smiled, the warmth of his fingers warming up her body instantly. She sighed heavily, and closed her eyes, taking in his touch; as did he. They sat in silence for a good ten minutes before the waiter arrived to collect their choices from the menu.
Oo...OoO...oO
Throughout the meal, they discussed their jobs, hobbies and past life. However, Emma was careful not to mention her family. They both stayed away from the topic of school, not wanting either of them to know about their magical abilities. Emma took her last bite of her crème brûlée and pushed her plate towards George, who had also finished his. They sipped the last of their wine and the waiter came over, George paying for the bill generously and Emma thanked him.
As they walked out hand in hand, they made their way back to Emma's apartment and she stood at the door.
"Thanks, George," she whispered, smiling and reaching into his body. He sighed heavily and a closed his eyes, as if he had been waiting an eternity for this moment. She slowly touched his lips with her own, and kissed him gently and softly. She pulled away and smiled, blushing as she saw Georges upset expression, as if he didn't want the kiss to end there.
"Until the next time," she whispered, winking and kissing his cheek, she made her way through the door, closing it on a blushing and happy George who walked home with a smile on his face that no one could possibly wipe off.