TWENTYFIVE
It was Friday, but Eve couldn't find the energy to rejoice in the weekend ahead. The first week back at school had been a stark reminder that conditions at Hogwarts were not going to be redeemed over a few mere weeks away. If anything, the growing tensions between students and Umbridge, and between the students that divided themselves between the sides of these tensions, grew substantially over the holiday cheer of winter break. More than ever, students spoke in whispers between empty spaces in the corridors and quick glances behind tall shelves of the library.
Sets of emerald robes began to be fitted with embordered silver I's, marking themselves as those of Eve's peers chosen worthy of catching those in school that were not following the nailed codes outside the stone of the Great Hall. The 'Inquisitorial Squad' was their given name, a dedication to their High Inquisitor herself, Dolores Umbridge, and their declared allyship to the Ministry of Magic. These Slytherin students made it their mission to catch their non-house peers in any compromising position worthy of the docking of their house points. And a few used their new power simply to rebrand their usual bullying tactics with a new shiny flare.
Eve found solace in sparse places in the castle, mainly in the confines of her dormitory and the quiet solitude of the Herbology classroom. So far, there was no word from any members of the DA of new meetings. Still, even a few simple glances at Harry Potter during passing corridors and mealtimes revealed in his expressions struggles that seemingly surpassed planning secret meetings with his peers. Eve would just have to wait.
And so, she chose to spend the last dull moments of her afternoon grading papers under the patter of rain above the glass of the greenhouse. Eve found the illegible scribbles and unmarked answers distracting, for the most part, taking her time to leave neat red markings on the pieces of parchments between long glances outside the windows around her. Every so often, the stone of her ring would catch her eye, and she would watch the deep blue swirl in its dark hues. The color of her mood ring had not changed much since she had come back to school, although she found it to be one of her least valuable concerns to deal with.
Footsteps broke Eve's stare at the stacks of parchment in front of her, and she paused for a moment, listening as her red quill still hovered in her hand above the page she had been working on.
There was a jiggle with the doorknob that lasted a few frustrating seconds longer than usual, a stark indicator of someone who rarely ventured into the greenhouse. Eve felt herself beginning to stand from her seat, but in another moment, the door swung open, and the tall figure of George Weasley stood in front of her.
Eve quickly pulled herself back down on her seat, her quill still in her hand but her heart now in her stomach. George didn't look at all surprised to see her, but that was all she could really read in his expression.
The moment made Eve think of the first time he walked into her in the greenhouse. That time it had been a surprise, back only a mere five months ago when George only knew her face from quidditch games. Was that all she ever was to him? Or had had there been more to her? Eve wished she could ask now, but she slipped the questions into the confines of her mind, into the same place she left all the questions she had asked herself to George in the last couple of weeks. She watched him shut the door behind him and take a few delicate steps inside the room.
"Hi," Eve said, feeling embarrassed immediately at how breathless she felt. She wished she had said something clever or even snarky, but being alone with George now only reminded her of the last time she had found herself alone with him.
"Neville said you'd be here," George said, a small smile complimenting his face as he took a glance around the room as if looking for something like he had the first time he found her in the same classroom. He took a few more steps closer to her.
"Yeah? Did you need something?" Eve asked, twirling her quill in her hand as if she contemplated beginning her grading again.
"Yeah, you," George answered. He grabbed a wooden stool from the worktable Eve was sat at the end of and placed it on the open side closest to her. The corner edge of the table marked the space between them as they sat, but it was still treacherously close for Eve's comfort.
For a moment, the pair sat in silence, watching each other's expressions with anticipation. Eve was the first to divert her eyes away, settling them on a plant rested on a ledge a few feet behind George. The plant was called Niffler's Fancy, and if Eve's situation weren't so awkward currently, she would have told George how the bright red copper leaves on the plant always reminded her of him.
George's eyes were still on her, steady and unrelenting. And even though this seemed to be a common occurrence when the two of them were around one another, it never ceased to make Eve feel uneasy and warm at the cheeks. She wondered if George could tell he had this effect on her. Eve figured he must have because when she turned her eyes to meet his again, a slight grin had grown in his expression.
"You know, I really thought you'd be angrier," George said finally, watching as his words caused a frown to form on Eve's face.
"Should I be angry?" Eve asked, raising a brow as she read George's face. She couldn't tell if he was beginning a joke or not, but she wished he would get to the point already.
"I would be angry if I had plans with someone and got stood up like a poor little git," George replied.
"Are you calling me a poor little git?" Eve asked, dropping her quill finally from her grasp and folding her arms over her chest. She was feeling her confidence grow with every strange, vague answer he was giving her.
"No," George said, his grin widening as he watched her growing agitation. Eve wished she hadn't smiled back, but she did.
"What is it you want, George?" Eve sighed, dropping her smile for a moment to convey some resemblance of sincerity with him.
"Well, first. I would like your mailing address," George remarked. His expression softened after a moment when his words earned no reply from Eve.
"I would also like to apologize for being the one that made the said plans and did the said standing up," George finished.
Eve observed his face, studying the green in his eyes and the sharp outline of his jaw that indicated he was clenching his teeth now. He was hiding nerves. But his eyes did not leave her.
"Perhaps we should have never made plans at all," Eve shrugged.
"Perhaps we should have never kissed," George replied.
"I didn't say that," Eve said, earning a short laugh from George. The sound made her stomach flutter, but she didn't let it alter her flat expression.
She watched as his laugh quieted into a grin and then softened into something more sincere and reflective as if he was wondering whether to reveal a secret or not.
"You know, I went to bed that night coming up with all these things I was going to tell you the next morning. It was all going to be very sophisticated and romantic," George said.
Eve watched his face closely, and although his words seemed genuine, it was not the answer she was looking for from him. She continued to stare at him idly until he took the hint to continue.
"McGonagall woke us up that night, my siblings and me. Dumbledore had sent for us, said it was a family emergency. My father had been rushed to St. Mungos," George continued.
Eve had not expected George's excuse in the least bit. In all the time she had away from him, in all the work she put into filling up the empty spaces in their wayward miscommunications, she still was left with complete surprise in the truth.
"I'm sorry," Eve replied. It was all she could make out as she watched a touch of sadness cloud his expression.
For her, it was both a sentiment of sympathy and apology. She was sorry for his pain and sorry that she hadn't considered it at all in her made-up teenage fantasies. The realization served as another reminder of many that would come that Eve existed in a world that was far more futile and dangerous than schoolgirl crushes. And now she realized that George existed in it too.
"Dumbledore sent us home that night to be with him. We left before we could tell anyone."
The farther George got in his explanation, the deeper Eve felt in her guilt. She thought of her drunken gossiping with Douglas on New Year's Eve, all the while George was at home with an injured father. She wanted to ask more, but she felt she didn't deserve the details. Eve unfolded her arms and watched them fall to her lap.
"Merlin, Eve. There's no need to look so grim. He's alright, made it to Christmas dinner and everything," George said, a light laugh leaving his lips at what must have been, what Eve could only assume, a pathetic and remarkably guilty look on her face.
"That's really good," Eve replied with a weak nod, looking up again to meet George's amused gaze.
"Suppose I'm safe from any planned girlish retaliation then?" George asked with a raised brow, observing Eve's reaction, although they both knew his question needed no answering.
"Yes, I suppose hospitalization is an unavoidable circumstance," Eve said with a shrug.
"Only when Fred and I aren't involved," George smiled.
"What were you going to say to me?" Eve asked, a sly grin forming on her face as she watched George raise his brows.
"I mean in that morning when we were going to meet," Eve finished, watching George's confusion turn to a guilty grin.
"Oh, it doesn't matter now," George replied with a careless shrug, although his eyes were playful and still set on Eve's.
"I guess I'll just stay upset," Eve shrugged.
"I don't mind upset. As long as I can make it up to you," George said, but as he grinned, he leaned in his stool to take up the space that was left between them by the table.
"And how will you manage that?" Eve asked although it came out far less confidently than she would have liked. In actuality, she immediately found it hard to breathe.
George's eyes danced around her face for a moment, as if contemplating what exactly he should do and how quickly he should do it. Eve sat motionless in any attempt to help his decision-making.
There came a loud turning of the greenhouse door latch, but this time it did not jiggle carelessly as it had for George. The knob turned, and the door flew open, revealing a weary-looking Professor Sprout under an oversized, hooded raincoat.
Both Eve and George were quick to repair the distance between them again, although Sprout only looked up to notice them when she shut the door behind her with a loud mechanic thud.
"Oh, Eve. I thought you would have left by now," Professor Sprout said, observing the pair warily as she unbuttoned her coat. "Mr. Weasley," she greeted, nodding at George with a careful stare.
Eve could only assume Sprout didn't know which twin he was, but she assumed George's presence wasn't entirely comforting for the professor either way.
"I was just finishing up the second year papers," Eve replied, glancing down at the stack of parchments she had long forgotten about and garnering any attempt to seem as casual as possible.
"Oh, go on. It's Friday. I can finish them up," Professor Sprout said with a shrug and a wave of her wand. The stack of papers began to levitate off the table one by one and travel behind the pair and onto the professor's desk at the far end of the classroom.
Eve grinned, catching Professor Sprout's side-eye as she passed the students and followed the papers to her desk. Eve and George stood from their seats, Eve quickly sorting her bookbag and George placing his stool back where he found it. The pair said their cordial goodbyes to the professor, Sprout giving her goodbyes with a simple wave. Quickly, the two slipped out of the greenhouse and into the rain.
There was still a light layer of winter snow decorated on the castle grounds, and combined with the present rainfall, Eve knew the trek back up to the castle was not going to be a pleasant one.
Eve and George maneuvered up the grounds quickly and haphazardly. Jumping over deep puzzles and shiny sheets of ice, the pair took turns grabbing one another's robes when the other showed signs of wobbly feet and unsteady hands.
"That should have been a Triwizard Tournament course," Eve grumbled the moment their feet met the comfort of cobblestone, and the clearing of open corridors was in sight.
George laughed at her words and pushed the hood of his robes off his head as they entered the corridor. The walkway was empty, a testament to both the late afternoon and the overall prison atmosphere that existed in the ruling of the castle as of late. They stood for a moment and shook their robes of loose raindrops.
"Your hair," George said with a wide grin, pushing Eve's hood off her head to reveal what she could only assume what a fizzy wet mop of curls. Her hands shot to her scalp immediately, but George was quick to swat her hands away and pull his wand out from his pocket.
He pointed his wand to Eve's hand, and with a light flick, a weight was lifted off of Eve's head as her curls dried instantly.
"You know silent charms?" Eve asked, unable to mask her impressed tone as she let her hand run through a strand of her hair. George shrugged.
"It's good to know a few in case of an emergency," George remarked nonchalantly, although Eve could see a glimmer of a cheeky smile as he looked down to dry himself off.
"You know, you're not as reckless as you try to appear to be," Eve observed, studying George's expression as he glanced back up at her with raised brows.
"And you're not as innocent as you try to appear to be," George replied.
"Yes, I've become quite the rulebreaker," Eve grinned, taking a step closer to George as he eyed her with an amused expression.
"Technically, I'm responsible. Most people would reason that you should be thanking me," George grinned, although he did not attempt to move from his stance. Eve knew now that it was his turn to test her.
"How about I break one more rule just for you?" Eve asked, this time lower, almost a whisper, as if she herself couldn't believe she had said it aloud.
Eve took another step to close the space between them now, and as she watched his eyes dance amongst her face again, it was all she needed to attach her lips onto his.
George was quick to react, one hand finding itself in the curls he had just rearranged only moments ago, while the other reached for the arch in Eve's back, pulling her in with the sheer intent to find any more space between them they could fill. Eve returned the favor by holding the front of his robes in her grasp, partly to pull their lips closer and partly to keep steady her faint footing. But as they kissed, the passion and confidence grew within her, and Eve loosened her grip to trail her hands to his chest, trying desperately to feel through the fabric she so feverishly wished would be gone.
A soft groan escaped Eve's lips between kisses, causing George to part their lips away for a moment to let out a chuckle.
"Shut up," Eve whispered, closing the space between them again with her lips. But the pair only proceeded in their actions for a moment longer when there was a cracking sound in the corridor, and a rush of air swooped over the tops of their heads. Eve let out a groan, but this time for a far different reason.
"OHHHH WEEEE, looks to be some forbidden merrymaking taking place in these dark saintly halls!"
"Oh, nothing you haven't seen before, Peeves. Run along, will you," George called, his arm still draped around Eve's waist, but his head now upturned to address the poltergeist directly hovering circles around the scene below him.
"OH, a Weasley twin! I should have known to find you in such compromising circumstances!"
A piercing fit of laughter followed Peeves's words, the sound bouncing off the cobblestone walls and causing portraits to cover their ears. Eve sent a scowl at the apparition before dropping her look to George in front of her.
"What does he mean by that?" Eve asked, using her hands that she had just had all over George's body to push their faces away a bit farther. She used the extra distance to send him a wider frown.
"It's a joke, Eve. He's mental; look at him," George replied with a laugh, his eyes glancing over at Peeves again right as the ghost did a maniacal summersault over their heads.
"Sounds like he's used to finding you snogging girls in the shadows," Eve remarked, raising a brow although she found it difficult to hide the grin forming on her lips.
"He can't tell Fred and me apart, that's all. 4,000-year-old eyesight and whatnot," George shrugged, his cheeky smile forming as he tightened his grip back on Eve's waist.
"I'm sure most of the girls can't either," Eve replied, rolling her eyes and giving a push to George's chest.
"Oh, there's a few that can," George said, his grin unrelenting, but he allowed Eve to untangle his arms from her.
There came an echo of a laugh from behind George, and after a second, a group of Ravenclaw girls, Eve guessed around third years, appeared at the end of the corridor. Eve grinned at them and then back at George.
"Until we meet again, George," Eve said, this time matching his cheeky smile and giving him one last nod. Eve left his side and began walking away, passing the group of girls who eyed them curiously.
"Hopefully in the shadows," George called back, although Eve did not turn to meet his face.
The last thing she heard was the sound of the Ravenclaw girls giggling before she turned the corner.
