For the Dauntless Competition Round 1. Write a romance.
Word Count: 1754
The bell above the door rings differently when she comes into the shop. George knows such an idea is ludicrous but he swears it's true. There's something about the way Cho hesitates in the doorway that makes the most beautiful music, tragic though it is. It suits her.
She makes her weekly purchase without making eye contact with Verity and almost manages to walk out of the shop without a word to anyone when he "accidentally" bumps into her at the door.
"Sorry, Cho. What do you have there?"
"Oh…" She pauses and fumbles with the package in her hands. "Just one of your Daydream Charms," she says. She's trying to be nonchalant about it, but her fingers are twitching too much. That's the problem with Cho, he thinks. She gives herself away. "They make great gifts," she adds with a small smile before making a quick escape.
They do make great gifts. But they also make bad habits.
George knows better than anyone.
So the next time she comes in, he makes it a point to notice her. He gives her a warm smile and cracks a few jokes and she attempts to laugh but she just seems so reluctant. He thinks perhaps the bags beneath her eyes are weighing down her face.
When she leaves, he leans toward Verity. "How long has she been coming in like that?"
"Ages," is the reply. Verity never says much and George doesn't push for more details. All he knows is that ages is too long.
She makes her way over to the shelf where the Daydream Charms sit strategically placed at eye level. Fred was rather proud of that particular invention all those years ago. George had been proud too, though he's wiser now.
Which is why he turns the corner just as she's about to walk away. "What do you daydream about?" he asks.
Startled, she hugs the box to her chest, attempting to hide the label with her hands as if he doesn't know his own product. Her face falls slightly as she recognizes that he knows.
"It's usually about Hogwarts," she says. "It's never exactly the same."
"No," he says. "It's meant to be a little different every time."
Cho just nods her head wordlessly and goes to the till to make her purchase. The sound of the bell tells him that she hesitates on her way out, and he finds himself wishing that she'd stayed.
The Leaky Cauldron is busier than usual. George doesn't often go out to the pub but Lee had insisted.
"You work too hard, mate. Just have one drink."
And George thinks that perhaps he does work too hard, so he'd agreed. And now he is so glad that he did because as he drains the rest of his firewhisky he sees her at the bar. She's not alone; Cho is always surrounded by companions. But he can't help but notice that she has the look of someone who feels alone in a crowd.
He pushes his way to where she's sitting and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Hey."
"Oh, hey, George," she says.
He eyes her almost empty glass and he offers to buy her another but she declines and stares down at her hands.
"You want to go for a walk?" he offers. "It's a bit cramped in here, wouldn't you say?"
He watches her think about it for a moment and he expects her to tell him no. She doesn't seem to be in the mood to talk, but she finally raises her head and smiles. "Sure," he says.
He leads the way and they walk out into the cool night air. Diagon Alley is practically deserted at this time of night and he breathes deeply, grateful to be away from the stuffy pub. But as the silence between them grows he starts to regret asking her to walk with him. He's barely spoken to her before which normally wouldn't bother him, but he feels an inexplicable need to not screw this up.
And before he can stop himself, he's telling her things he's not told anyone else before.
"I used to daydream a lot."
Cho smiles. "Oh?"
"Yeah." George shoves his hands into the pockets of his robes. "That summer I used to daydream at least once a day. They only last thirty minutes, after all. Well… you'd know, wouldn't you?"
He looks over to see her blush with embarrassment but she doesn't seem angry. He's glad.
"It was mostly about Fred. It was easy to just forget for a while and pretend he was still around, ya know? Once…" He pauses to shake his head at the memory. "Once I daydreamed that we were still at Hogwarts and we blew up a toilet and sent the seat to Mum. We threatened to do that before but we never actually did it."
Cho giggles in response and he feels her move closer to him as they walk side by side. "The Howler you would have gotten would have been hilarious. I remember you used to get a lot of those."
"Yeah," George says wistfully. "Those were the days."
They've come to the corner and Cho mentions that perhaps they ought to turn around and head back before her friends begin to worry. George agrees but he puts a gentle hand on her arm to stop her. He's not sure why he offers and he's never been one to take a serious line on anything but this… this feels important. So he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to speak. "Cho… What I really mean to say is, well… if you ever need to talk about anything… anything at all... you know where to find me, all right?"
She swallows thickly but nods her head in understanding. "Thanks, George." They go back to the Leaky Cauldron in silence and once again Cho hesitates before going in. "Thanks for the walk," she says. "I think I needed it."
She leans up on her tiptoes to lightly kiss his cheek before leaving him out in the dark street alone. But somehow he doesn't seem to mind.
"She likes you."
Verity nudges him in the ribs and he winces, pretending to look offended. But then her words finally reach him and he furrows his brow. "What?"
"That girl. The one who comes in here buying up all your Daydreams. She likes you."
The bell dances above the door and he looks up as black hair and Ravenclaw scarf round the corner and out of sight.
"No, she doesn't," he says. And he walks off toward the sound of shuffling feet and away from Verity's smirk.
"Yes she does!" she calls after him.
It's a harmless little addiction. Sometimes thirty minutes is all one needs to escape reality. Just for a little while. Just to make things not seem so confusing.
He hasn't used one of these Charms in months. He thinks perhaps one couldn't hurt. And he waits and waits for Fred to arrive and make mischief with him like he used to do. But Fred isn't here anymore.
Instead he's replaced with dark eyes and a sweet smile and a brush of fingertips because that's all he's ever known from her. He wants more.
He snaps himself out of it, and pushes himself up off the kitchen table where he's laid his head down. And things are just as confusing as ever.
They're walking again. It was Cho's idea this time.
"You look like you could use a break," she'd said.
George didn't take the hint at first. "It's not all that busy today, actually."
Cho had only rolled her eyes. "Walk with me." And she'd practically dragged him out onto the street.
And now the silence between them is a comfortable one and Cho is happier than he's ever seen her.
"Have you daydreamed lately?" he asks.
"Yes," she says. "I had a lovely one yesterday. I was playing Quidditch. I'd forgotten how much I missed it. Do you miss it, George?"
"Sometimes, yeah."
"You almost knocked my off my broom once," she says. "I don't know if you remember. The Bludger grazed my shoulder, but it was windy and I lost my balance for a minute."
"Don't take it personally."
"No worries. I don't."
"Do you…" George stops himself. It's none of his business. Besides, what does he care?
"Do I what?"
"Nothing."
"No. Not nothing." She comes to stand before him, stopping him in his tracks. She crosses her arms and gives him a reproving look he didn't quite expect from her. "What were you going to say?"
"Do you think about him still? Cedric, I mean…"
Her lips form a straight line reminiscent of McGonagall and he immediately stumbles over an apology. "Sorry. You probably don't want to talk about-"
"No," she says quickly. "No, it's okay. And no, I don't." She links her arm through his and they continue their way past Flourish and Blotts. "At least, I don't think of him in that way anymore. It's hard not to think about him sometimes though. It was rather traumatic, you know."
"Yeah, I know."
And that's all he says on the matter. He shouldn't have even brought it up. Because it really is none of his business.
And besides.
What does he care?
"Ask her out."
"No, Verity."
"Go on, then. Just do it."
"No."
And he doesn't. At least not in so many words. He goes over with every intention to, despite his insistence that he won't. And before he even gets to ask if she's daydreamed lately, she tells him that she has, in fact, been daydreaming quite a bit. "It was about you this time," she says.
"Me," he repeats.
"Yes. You."
"Er… what about me?"
"For someone as brilliant as you, you can be rather thick sometimes, George Weasley."
"Brilliant? You think I'm brilliant?"
She sighs in exasperation and puts the box she's holding back on the shelf before closing the distance between them in two steps. And before he has time to marvel over this convenient turn of events, she's pressed her lips to his, soft but purposeful. It's over far too quickly.
"It's better in real life," she says. "I thought it would be."
And whatever he was thinking of saying to her has been forgotten as he wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her back. He barely notices Verity's smug remark from the next aisle over.
"About bloody time."
