"Can you believe that shit?! Harry has the best luck!" I groaned as we walked back to the common room.
"GEORGE!"
I turned around to see Margaret running towards me.
"Hey, where's the fire? Ohhhh, on your head!" I joked, gesturing towards her reddish curls. She snorted.
"You're a fine one to talk, Weasley! But that's beside the point. Georgiana is in the hospital wing, and she's just waking up, and I wanted you to be there because I think she means something to you, and if I'm wrong I'm sorry—okay, I have to get back to make sure that she's okay. I just left for the ceremony."
"I—"
But she was gone. I turned to Fred, Angelina, and Alicia, who were all waiting expectantly for me.
"C'mon, George. She's not going to want to see anyone right now. I know I wouldn't," Alicia told me, pulling my arm. I was torn between what I wanted to do and what Georgiana might want. I wanted to go see her, make sure that she was okay—I mean, what the hell was she in the Hospital Wing for anyway?—but what if she was sort of vain, like Alicia, and wanted to conceal how "bad" she looked. As if she could ever look bad.
"C'mon, George!" Angelina and Alicia were insistent, so I went with them. Lee Jordan had somehow put together a party. Fred and I were not terribly pleased. Partying was our department, thank you very much, and we weren't too pleased with Lee overstepping our authority.
"Hey, I think I'm going to bed!" I yelled to Alicia, who had clung to my arm from the moment we'd entered the room. She laughed.
"Mind if I Slytherin?" she asked, pushing me towards the dorms. I laughed uncertainly, but luckily, she had been joking—I was alone as I walked up the stairs.
I slid my loosened tie from around my neck and strode to the window, opening it with a slight push. I could see a light on in the hospital wing, and I peered out of the window in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Georgiana. I was in luck—Pomfrey had left the curtains open at the window that revealed her bed. She didn't look that good. Her face looked kind of greyish, and she was frowning. She wiped her face with her hands, and I realized that she must be crying. I tried to wave—to make her smile. But she didn't ever look through the window. Margaret had been right. She did mean a lot to me. She meant the world to me. She was sweet and quiet and adorable and awkward, and I just…really liked her. There was a ledge out there: what the hell.
"Here goes nothing," I grunted as I hauled myself out of the window and onto the ledge that connected my window to the hospital wing windows.
"Oh…Lord…" This was not as simple as I had hoped. I clung to the wall in desperation. Eventually, I made it to her window. But not without sustaining an icicle or two on my nose.
"Georgiana!" I hissed, tapping on the window, praying that she would let me in. She looked around—not at the window, mind you—and lapsed back into tears. I repeated my actions. This time, she looked straight at me, and I smiled. Her tears turned into a beaming smile, and she leapt out of bed to open the window for me.
"George! I thought you weren't going to come! I thought you were with Alicia—I mean, your intended! I didn't think you would come see me! I was so upset, and I can hardly—" she whispered hoarsely, helping me down from the window before throwing her arms around me. She tried to squeeze me in her hug, but her grasp was so weak that it felt like I was holding her up the whole time.
"Georgiana, you have to rest!"
"Margaret? What are you doing here?" I demanded. She rolled her eyes.
"I told you I was coming back here, didn't I? Doofus."
I opened my mouth to retort when Georgiana—apparently seized by some bold demon—reached up and kissed my cheek. We both turned red, and she nearly swooned from the embarrassment of her sudden actions, but I kept her up firmly in my arms.
"Help me lay back down, please," she mumbled, stumbling backwards towards her bed. I had my arm around her waist for the whole distance of the walk.
"Thank you," she gasped out as she lay back against her pillows. I think she passed out at that point.
"She's just a little bit delirious," Margaret sighed as she took a seat next to Georgiana's bed. I disregarded the seat and just sat next to my Georgie on the bed.
"What happened exactly?" I asked, taking her chilled hand in mine.
"She was having a tete-a-tete with Mr. Longbottom by the Lake when all of a sudden, a…squid, I believe? Yes, a squid grabbed her ankles and dragged her into the water."
I gaped at Margaret, who nodded.
"How on earth is she still alive?!" I demanded, ignoring my first instinct, which was to demand why on earth she was having a "tete-a-tete" with Neville.
"Oliver saved her."
I glanced over to the bed beside Georgiana's where my former Quidditch captain lay, bare-chested and sleeping. I smirked at Margaret, who was desperately trying to look anywhere but there.
"Went down to nothing but knickers, I'll bet," I said, grinning when I saw the bright blush that coated her cheeks. She shrugged.
"I'm afraid I didn't notice. I was rather worried about my best friend."
"I'm your best friend?"
We both immediately looked down at Georgiana, who was gazing at us in amusement, her eyelids half-closed and her lips in a sleepy smile. Margaret tried to play it off like it wasn't a big deal that Georgiana was her best friend, but after taking a few moments to master her facial expression, she gave up and smiled shyly.
"Yeah. You and Ginny. I just…I'm sorry—I know we aren't the same age, but I just—"
"No, no!" Georgiana rasped, throwing her hand out to Margaret, who took it. "I'm not mad at you! You and Kitty are my best friends—you perhaps a tad more than she, but that is only because our personalities are more compatible I believe."
"Wow," I sighed, "what am I, chopped liver?"
Her other hand was already in mine, and she squeezed my hand as hard as she could.
"No, you are…wonderful. Just…it's not the same as how I feel about Kitty and Margaret."
"Good."
We smiled warmly at each other, but then, hers faltered, and she slipped her hand out of mine.
"Thanks for coming to see me, George, but you don't have to stay," she whispered, lowering her eyes down to the blanket. I sat back, staring at her in surprise.
"I—" Hadn't she just been saying that she liked me more than a friend?
"Alicia's probably waiting for you," Margaret muttered, suddenly scowling. I looked from one to the other in confusion. Alicia? Alicia was just a friend—a friend that wanted to be something more. But who never would be. Sure, she was gorgeous, but she knew it. She knew it a little too well.
"What? I—"
"George, please no excuses."
"Excuses? I—"
"Oh, George, I told you that she wouldn't want to see you!" Alicia interrupted me, sailing into the hospital wing at the worst possible moment. She beamed at Georgiana. "Kitty told me that you were feeling better, so I wanted to come bring you some butterbeer from the party."
I eyed her. Her eyes were glittering with that sheen of too much Firewhiskey. I saw it often enough. Alicia drunk really stunk. Fred and I had made that up a long time ago—around the first time that we had ever seen Alicia at a party. She had just been dumped by her boyfriend, and it was his birthday party. She got plastered and then started a shouting match with him. It was weird—every time she got drunk, she acted differently.
"Alicia, you should probably go back to the common room," I told her cautiously. Her eyes turned to me, and she laughed really loudly. Georgiana winced slightly at the unmelodic sound.
"You worry too much about me, George! And I love you for it! I…love you!"
I stared at her. This was very, very awkward.
"Alicia, I don't…"
"George, you promised me a kiss. You promised. I always remember your promises!"
"Alicia, that was five years ago. And if I recall correctly, you promised me that you would never take me up on the offer!"
She started crying and flung herself at me. I glanced over her shoulder at Georgiana, whose blue eyes were gazing up at me with miserable gravity.