Author's Note: Welcome to chapter two of Neither Freer! Just to remind you, the text in italics are flashbacks, and yes, they're in third person. The rest of it's 1st person, from the point of view of Bailey Thompson, a made-up character of mine. I hope you like it!
"So, erm... I wanted to ask you..." I said, following George down the corridor to his Charms class. I took a pause, searching for the right words, my eyes trained on the ceiling as though they might be written there. I wanted to make sure I got it right, that I didn't mess it up. "Did you..." I was stumbling, tripping over my words like an idiot, or some sappy, lovestruck little girl. Just say it! "Do you - "
"Hey Bailey!" It was Lee. He'd come up behind me and leaned his arm on my shoulder. Alright, I don't always hate being short, but it's times like these when I do.
"Shouldn't you be in Arithmancy or something like that?"
I smiled at Lee, but my heart seemed to drop into my stomach. Foiled again! "Free period," I said, showing him my schedule again. He'd have it memorized in about another week. He always did, every year before. Like tradition. Man, for a group of...well, what would you call us? Hooligans? Rebels? Renegades? Well whatever you'd call us, for a bunch of 'us', we sure have a lot of traditions. Weird traditions.
"Ah, yeah, that's right. Well, catch you later," he said, and started to walk into the classroom. "Coming George?"
"Yeah," said George, and he turned and smiled apologetically at me as the bell rang and he followed Lee into Professor Flitwick's classroom.
I sighed, and leaned against the stone wall, like I needed to catch my breath. Why did he get me so flustered all of a sudden? And every time I got up the nerve to say something to him, it was like fate stepped in. Did the universe not want us together or what?
The stone was nice and cool, and I let myself slide down to the floor, stretching my legs over the marble floor. I knew it was an undignified position, but I've never been one to care all that much about dignity. I took another deep breath and closed my eyes, and let my mind wander to the night that had started this whole stupid, confusing thing.
"Oh, look at that one!" said Bailey, tracing the path of the shooting star with her finger against the sky.
George smiled. She loved they way the starlight caused his brown eyes to twinkle. She giggled.
"What?" he asked, turning to look at her. She also liked the shape of his nose, how it was just a little too big but in just the right way. And his freckles, and the chocolatey color of his eyes. His tan but not-too-dark skin and his bright red-orange hair that had grown just a bit too long during the school year.
They lay on their backs on the cold stone of the balcony, their secret meeting place ever since its discovery, looking up at the stars and enjoying the cool breeze on this otherwise warm early-summer night.
It was what had become their tradition, to lay up here at least one summer night every year, reminiscing and talking about the future. It'd started in Bailey's first year, when, upon finding the hidden and almost impossible to get to balcony, George had chosen to show it to her first – before he'd even told Fred about it. It had been a measure of their friendship, and of George's desire for Bailey to always feel like she belonged somewhere. There.
With him.
"Your eyes are twinkling," she said, smiling at him.
"Sparkling, Bailey. They're sparkling." He laughed, and turned back to look up at the stars. What he was really thinking about was how her blue eyes looked like a mini replica of the sky above them, each star perfectly reflected. How her stars moved just slightly as she breathed or spoke. And he was thinking about the lips that all her beautiful words came out of. Pleasantly full and naturally pink. Beautiful. So was her laugh. Like... it was like the best thing you've ever tasted, but for your ears.
He couldn't help but feel sort of elated, like he was full of helium and could just float off into the stars as he lay there shoulder to shoulder with her. She was the person he was closest to in the entire world – besides Fred.
Yep, their little tradition.
He turned his head again to look at her. She was gazing at the stars again, unaware that he was watching her, and that his heart was pounding. He loved being close to her.
She'd been telling him about going to California for the summer, and how her Aunt Susan had invited the entire Weasley clan over for Bailey's birthday celebration. The strange feeling of emptiness had been growing in his stomach. He knew he'd have to spend the entire summer without seeing her, and for some reason this saddened him more than it usually would have. And it wasn't just because she was his best friend.
"But we're going to the Quidditch Cup this summer!" he told her, begging her to stay. She turned her head to him and looked into his face and said quietly, almost sadly, "There will be other Quidditch Cups. California's my home, it's where all the memories are..."
He looked back up at the sky, letting a small sigh escape him. "Everywhere's got memories, Bail," he said. He pushed himself up, and sat against the battlements with his knees pulled up to his chest, playing with his shoestrings. Bailey sat up herself, with her legs crossed Indian-style under her, and she looked around their balcony. It overlooked the lake, and the mountains beyond.
"I suppose right here's got a few, too," she said, running her fingers over the cool stone.
There was a very small pause in which George caught her eye and smiled, and then said, "Did you ever tell anyone?" They both knew what he was talking about, and Bailey smiled, the lightest of blushes coming on her cheeks.
"No," she said. "Did you?"
George grinned and looked up at the stars. "No."
They were both remembering that early-June night, years ago. Bailey had been a first year, nearly twelve, and George was a second year, just turned thirteen. He'd held her hand, and she'd kissed him very quickly, blushing madly. And that was where it had ended, their three-second romance, three years ago.
"It was good, wasn't it?" said Bailey. She had that past-memories kind of look on her face and tone in her voice.
"Definitely," said George with a grin. He felt an urge to reach out and take her hand, but refrained, knowing it would probably just embarrass her.
Bailey took a long breath of warm air and bit her lip.
"George?"
"Yea?"
She looked up at him now, almost afraid to look him in the eyes as she said, slowly and quietly, "Do you ever wonder if...if it would be good now? I-I mean, if...we would be good...together?"
George looked thoughtful for a moment, resting his arms on his knees and picking at his fingernails.
"Yea," he said finally. "I mean, I guess it's a bit strange to...we are best friends and all...but well yeah..." He trailed off, now examining his fingernails with much more interest than he actually had in them.
"Would you kiss me now?" asked Bailey. Her cheeks had turned bright red and her heart was pounding in her chest, but she felt she had to know. She twisted a lock of brown hair in her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.
George looked up at this, into her shining blue orbs, and acted on his impulse to take her hand. He pulled her hand away from her hair gently, moving slightly closer to her in the action. He loved the feeling of her soft pale skin in his own large, tan, rough hand.
"Do you want me to?" He, too, felt as though his heart were going to burst from his chest at any moment.
"Well I dunno, it's just that I...sort of..."
"Fancy me?"
An annoying habit that twins often develop is finishing other peoples' sentences, and George had definitely developed it with Bailey, because of the huge amounts of time they spent together. Bailey was hardly surprised anymore to hear her sentences finished from his mouth, but still she was a bit embarrassed to admit that it was true.
She bit her lip even harder, and nodded almost imperceptibly.
George shifted slightly before saying, "Good. I mean, that's... Because I've wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. For a while." There was another nearly awkward pause, before he cleared his throat somewhat nervously and said quietly, "May I?"
The faintest of smiles crossed Bailey's lips as she whispered her answer. "Yes."
George leaned towards her, slowly, and put his hand very gently on the side of her face, brushing her cheek softly with his thumb. He couldn't repress the smile at her slight shudder as their lips touched. It wasn't his first 'real' kiss, he was fairly experienced in the matter, but he wasn't surprised that it was hers, so he started slowly.
He put his free arm, his left, around her waist, moved closer to her, parted her lips ever so gently with his tongue. She felt tiny, fragile, delicate in his hands, like a porcelain doll he was afraid to break. He was half afraid she'd push him away any second, but she didn't. Instead he felt an arm go about his waist, felt fingers intertwine themselves in his hair.
"Are you going to tell anyone?" she asked as they broke apart. Her heart was racing, and she kept her arms around him as she spoke, smiling.
"Everyone," he said, smiling and brushing a curl of brown hair from her face.
She laughed, and let him pull her body closer and kiss her again, this time more deeply and passionately.
"Shit!" someone yelled, and I felt a sharp pain in my leg. I opened my eyes. Had I fallen asleep? Great! What a perfect way to begin the year, as the retard sleeping in the hallway.
"Are you alright?" I asked. There was a boy standing back up. Apparently he'd tripped over my feet. I recognized him as one of Draco's friends, in my own year. Adrian Pucey. "Sorry," I said, standing up. I don't think I need to tell you how awkward of a situation it was. If you've never been tripped over while taking a nap in a school hallway, try it sometime. It's thrilling.
Anyway, so Adrian Pucey, who usually played as Chaser on the Slytherin team, shrugged and brushed himself off. That simple! I thought he'd yell or try to curse me or something but nope.
"You're Draco's cousin, right?" he asked. I nodded, a bit relieved and a lot confused.
"How did you - "
"You look just like him," he said. "Only you're obviously a girl, with brown hair and blue eyes. And freckles."
He grinned. I noticed his eyes were a pretty pale green color, like light jade, and his teeth were perfectly straight and white. He was quite handsome, once I got a good look at him. And was he flirting with me? I could feel a flush creeping up my cheeks, but remained cool and seemingly nonchalant. Well, I am a Malfoy, you know. I returned the smile and extended my hand.
"I'm Bailey," I said, "and I do not usually sleep in school corridors." I laughed. I couldn't help it. It was the first time I'd felt good about myself in about a week. Not that I should, because I'd just been tripped over and probably had dirt all over the backs of my robes, but I did.
"Adrian," he said, taking my hand and, not shaking it, but kissing it! I couldn't keep my laughter inside, though it was probably more a way to cover up the deep flush that'd gone over my face. He laughed, too, and said, "And I do not usually trip over beautiful girls sleeping in school corridors."
My flush could only have deepened. But was that even possible? My face and the back of my neck were so hot!
"Do you have a free period right now?" I asked, more to make conversation than because I really cared. Or so I thought. Maybe I did really care? I didn't know, so I shook the notion out of my head for the moment.
"Er...no," he said, glancing at his watch somewhat nervously. "I'm late to Ancient Runes, actually."
"Oh," I said, somewhat disappointed. "Well I'll see you around, then," I said, smiling.
"Hopefully," he said, flashing a smile that was handsome, self-confident, and flirtatious all at once. I knew anyone who could master such a smile was either someone to stay away from, or someone well worth knowing. And then he ran his long fingers through his sandy-blond hair and continued on down the corridor the way he'd been going.
I went on smiling as I walked to the common room, and for once since last June, the person on my mind was not George Weasley.
Author's Note: Alright, I hope you liked it! Please review, constructive criticism is always welcome! Thanks!
Also, one of my friends told me that the erm...previous draft of this chapter (I've lost count of how many times I've written it over!) didn't really sound like George. Like it was out of character. I think I've re-written it so that it works, and keep in mind he's not around anyone he needs to impress by being loud and obnoxious. But let me know what you think! Thanks.
