THIRTYTWO

The Three Broomsticks was especially crowded when the Hufflepuff group found their way within it. Couples and groups of friends littered the pub tables, along with a fair number of single drinkers on the bar top. Thankfully, the group did not idle for too long, as they made eyes with a table of recognizable Ravenclaws that were beginning to stand from their seats. And with their friendly exchange of the table, they got settled, and drinks were ordered immediately.

And then another round was ordered and then another. By the time Eve and her friends finished their third round, Fiona had started her broken relationship rantings. The only engaged person, of course, was Dawson, who would nod between her breath breaks and give various versions of "No, you should definitely never speak to that Ravenclaw bloke ever again. You sure you don't want a shoulder to cry on?"

Eve turned to Douglas beside her, and then Fernando who sat across from them both; the boys in the middle of a lukewarm conversation Eve wasn't following.

"What are you two talking about?" Eve inserted.

"Quidditch," They both said in unison, and when Eve frowned, Fernando broke into a grin.

"Oh, a bit of a sore subject?" Fernando asked.

"I'm only thinking happy thoughts today," Eve stated with confidence she could carelessly muster. She grabbed her glass and finished the rest of her Butterbeer in one unnecessary enormous gulp.

"And what do you think of that?" Douglas muttered in Eve's ear, although Fernando must have caught his words because he also followed with his eyes with Eve's as Douglas kept his glance at a distance ahead.

Eve's instant reaction to seeing George Weasley walk into the pub was to let out a loud huff, like a child coming to realize they didn't get their way.

"Why is he everywhere?" Eve whispered, turning back to her glass. When she was reminded it was empty, she grabbed Douglas's.

"Almost as if he attends the same school as you," Fernando said with a laugh, turning back in his seat to face them.

Thankfully, they were farther back into the pub for the Gryffindors to not spot their very obvious staring.

"Have you spoken to him yet?" Douglas asked, his question causing Fernando to turn to her as well with a raised expression.

"Oh, so you have, in fact, been strange with him? It wasn't just my eyes deceiving me during practice," Fernando interjected, and Eve sighed, realizing now that her goal of acting perfectly normal during DA meetings did not work in the slightest.

"We've said a few words here and there," Eve shrugged.

"Why don't you just talk to him about how you feel?" Fernando asked, with all the nonchalant nature she was entirely unused to from her other peers.

"That's a bit easier said than done, don't you think?" Douglas asked, his expression on Fernando now.

There was a silence between them, their eyes sharing a conversation Eve certainly wasn't a part of. Eve rolled her eyes. This was not the kind of romantic drama she was hoping for today.

"Right, who wants another round?" Eve asked, pulling her careless confidence back together to address the entire table now.

"My kind of girl," Dawson nodded from beside Fernando, lifting his empty glass with an overtly aggressive shake. Fiona sent him a questioningly look.

"Order it at the bar," Douglas said.

"Okay, but you'll need to help with me. I'm not a barmaid," Eve said with a scoff.

"No, you should go alone," Douglas insisted. Eve and Fernando stared at him with equal perplexity for a moment before Fernando's expression lit up.

"Yeah, go alone," Fernando nodded. A grin grew on his face that mirrored the same sly essence of Douglas's.

Eve exchanged glances between the boys, but she saw what Douglas must have caught earlier when she raised herself from her seat. George and his friends sat at a table directly across the bar top. Eve rolled her eyes.

"Consider it a test," Fernando shrugged.

"You're just as bad as him," Eve muttered, but she straightened her skirt all the same.

When Eve approached the bar top, she made sure to mark the farthest distance from herself and George's table. But she knew if she turned her head forward, she would be in the direct eye line of them. She heard a loud laugh and was sure it was Lee's.

"What can I get for you, dear?"

The barman appeared in front of Eve and broke her conscious attempt of appearing beautifully casual. She ordered the five Butterbeers and paid, sending him back on his way. And then the awkward waiting followed. And standing there, alone, awaiting a boy she never invited to begin with, caused all the hope Eve had in the test to falter with every second. She studied the wood on the bar top, tracing a ring of water left by a picked-up glass. There were sounds of more laughing in the distance and the creaking of chairs moving about, but Eve couldn't in the slightest differentiate the tables they were coming from.

"You look good in Gryffindor colors."

Eve was sure her heart skipped a beat at the sound of George's voice, but she wouldn't allow the same skip in her conversation. She dropped her hand from bar top and dried her finger on her skirt.

"Last time I checked, it's just called red," Eve said, looking up to meet George's expression, her reply causing a massive grin to spread on his face. Perhaps it was surprise for expecting her to ignore him entirely like she had all week. There was a tinge of regret at the thought of this as she studied his smile.

"I almost didn't recognize you with your hair," George said, and as if on instinct, his hand lifted to play with straightened dark strand that had landed in front of her shoulder.

"Just thought I'd do something different," Eve replied, rather weakly, and she realized now that she had been holding her breath the moment he touched her. As if hearing her thoughts, George dropped his hand, but his grin remained.

"You've got a romantic date I'm interrupting?" George asked, his eyes gliding to the back of the pub where Eve had emerged.

"Yeah, several, actually. Unfortunately, they seem to all have dates as well," Eve said with a casual shrug, although a smile was forming on her lips that she wasn't in the least bit in control of now.

"Here you go, dear."

The barman's voice, followed by the thud of dropped glasses, caused Eve to break from George's trance. She turned to the older man and thanked him, before glancing down to the five Butterbeers in front of her now.

"I should get back," Eve said, beginning to arrange the glasses in her hands with uncoordinated etiquette. Two in one hand it easy; it's the three in one hand that's a bit tricky.

"Let me help," George said, moving to grab the glasses in her hands, but Eve was quick to resist.

"I got it, George," Eve insisted with a light laugh. She gripped the handles and lifted, managing them all in her hands with hazardous trepidation.

George raised his brows and chuckled, studying the glasses and then Eve's death grip on them. His expression fell slightly when he met her eyes again.

"Meet me outside in ten, yeah?" George asked, and Eve could see in the way his eyes flicked away from her face, with his mouth pursed to the side, and his jaw clenched, that he was nervous.

Eve felt her stomach flip, and her breath hitched so far back within it that she thought perhaps she wouldn't be able to speak. So instead, she just nodded, ardently and fast, and at any other moment, she probably would have imagined how silly she looked. But, just as quickly, she turned away and back to her table. All it took was a few steps away from George to seemingly break the spell he had her in because she breathed out a sigh of relief as she made it back to her friends. Nevertheless, her hand that gripped the three glasses shook and caused some Butterbeer to pour on Fernando's lap.

"Oi, careful, Eve," Fernando grumbled, grabbing the glasses from her grasp in one quick easy motion.

"You couldn't get any assistance back there? Anyone?" Douglas asked, his eyebrows raised just high enough for Eve to know he had seen the exchange that had just happened between her and George. Eve shook her head and sat down.

"Who was that boy you were talking to?" Fiona asked, her face turning from Dawson's to meet Eve's. Her expression was also raised, but not with the same knowing suspicion that Douglas's had.

"What boy?" Eve asked.

"The tall red-headed one with his fingers in your hair, darling," Fiona asked, grabbing a Butterbeer and taking a sip, her eyes not moving away from Eve for a second. And Eve realized now that all the eyes on the table must have been on her as she spoke.

"George Weasley," Eve answered with a shrug. She watched Fiona's eyes flick with perplexity and then slow understanding as she registered the name in her six years of Hogwarts reminiscence.

"Seventh year that causes trouble. There's two of him, yeah?" Fiona asked.

"You seriously don't know who the Weasley twins are?" Dawson asked, and Eve was thankful the questioning was momentarily taken away from her.

Dawson naming off the historical exploits of the twins gave time for Eve to turn to Fernando and Douglas, who each already had expectant stares waiting for her. She leaned between them and spoke.

"He asked me to meet him outside in 10 minutes," Eve murmured, taking an anxiously long sip of her Butterbeer in an effort to calm her nerves. Butterbeer is not fire whiskey, though, and so the nervous pit in her stomach remained.

"Go see him then," Fernando said as if it was the most uncomplicated answer in the world to give.

"Did he say what for?" Douglas asked next, looking for the details that Eve was far too gone in her brain even to notice. She shook her head.

"Maybe he wants to talk… Or snog," Eve shrugged.

"You should tell him how you feel. It's Valentine's Day, and you look fit. There's no better option for you," Fernando said, his words earning a nod from Douglas. They locked eyes for a moment before Douglas quickly turned away.

Eve sighed, sinking back into her seat. She brought her glass to her lips again and took a long sip.

"Right, just get drunk before; that'll solve it," Douglas said, and as the words hit his mouth, Eve was quick to raise to her expression, glancing between him and Fernando. Fernando rolled his eyes and took a sip of his glass.

"If I'm talking about my feeling tonight, then everyone's talking about their feelings tonight," Eve said, her voice stern as she looked between the faces of her two best guy friends. Fernando's expression was rigid, but Douglas's fell to something more sad and sincere.

Eve turned to Fiona, with the confidence of honesty playing on her side now.

"If I leave you to go meet a boy, will you be mad?" Eve asked. Fiona rolled her eyes.

"You're leaving me on Valentine's Day with three boys to choose from; I'll be fine," Fiona replied.

"Did you hear that, lads? 1 in 3 chance one of us is getting lucky tonight," Dawson said, turning to Douglas and Fernando, although neither was paying attention.

Eve raised herself from her seat and grabbed her coat, but she felt a grip on her arm as she did so. Fiona pulled her down to face level.

"I'm going to assume this is the tall red-head, then?" Fiona whispered in her ear. Eve nodded, and the girls shared a grin.

Eve threw on her coat, and with one last stern look at Fernando and Douglas, she started towards the door of the pub. She passed the Gryffindor table, she sent a quick glance, and saw George's empty seat.

The sunset was almost gone when Eve stepped outside. The cold air was a relief when it hit Eve's face. She felt her cheeks burn red and figured she was feeling the several Butterbeers finally. Or perhaps, she thought hastily, the blush was for the moments that were to come. Eve felt a hand brush her back.

"Hi, George," Eve said, and the boy grinned.

"Let's walk, yeah?" George asked, and Eve nodded.

The two began walking down the main street of shops, passing students and Hogsmeade locals alike, some holding hands with their romantic date, others with their shopping bags. Meanwhile, Eve had her hands in her coat pockets, but she felt George's shoulder brush with hers ever so often as they went, and for a minute, she thought about their walks to the Forbidden Forest together. It was a memory that felt so long ago to think of, and yet she was feeling now the same exact anxious perplexity as she did then. There was another nudge of her shoulder, followed quickly by the sound of George clearing his throat from beside her.

"You know, I was thinking…. You wore red lipstick at the Yule Ball, didn't you?" George asked, and Eve turned to him with a raised look. The question was not at all what she was expecting.

"Yeah, how do you know that?" Eve asked with a tone of genuine interest as she studied his face carefully.

"Just seeing you today in it. It just reminded me of seeing you at the ball," George answered with a shrug as if it was the most casual exchange of information in the world. Like an answer to a homework question.

"You're so strange," Eve said, shaking her head and letting out a light laugh. George shot her a grin and turned his eyes to the road ahead.

"Oh, I'm acting strange? You're the one that's been avoiding me all week," George said.

Eve sighed at his words but offered no immediate reply to them. They both knew it was true, and so silence fell between them for a minute or two. Eve turned back to the street ahead of them and realized they had reached the hill that led back up to the castle grounds. Usually, Eve would protest the idea of returning to the confines of the castle so soon, away from her friends and the holiday festivities. But if she were being honest with herself tonight, the truth was that she wouldn't really question going anywhere with George.

"What's your favorite color?" George asked, breaking the silence with another unforeseen question.

"Green," Eve answered easily.

"I could have guessed that," George grinned.

"What's yours?" Eve returned.

"Blue. But red if it's on you," George replied smoothly, earning an eye roll from Eve, but a grin followed quickly.

"Do you have a middle name?" George asked now.

"Sofia, after my grandmother. You?" Eve said.

"Fabien, after my uncle," George said.

"Coffee or tea?" Eve asked.

"Tea and I bet you'll say coffee," George said, giving her shoulder a nudge with his own. Eve grinned and nodded.

"What do your parents do?" George asked.

"They're artists. My father makes sculptures, and my mother paints mostly," Eve answered, and she turned to George to read his reaction. He gave a curious but slightly puzzled glance at her, the expression he always made when Eve told him of things from her muggle world.

"And your dad works for the Ministry," Eve continued, having known this knowledge from passing conversations between the two. George nodded.

"Yeah, and mum stays and takes care of the home," George finished, his eyes trailing off for a moment before he grinned, "I bet your parents are very interesting."

"I'm sure we'd find both of our parents very interesting," Eve laughed.

The pair made it up the hill and found themselves on the main castle grounds. There was comfortable silence as they walked, the sun now completely set, and the dim haze of fresh moonlight followed the sky. Eve listened to the change in the tone of their footsteps as they made it to the cobblestone of the castle courtyard.

"Eve, why were you avoiding me?" George asked, his words coming out just as casual as his last questions had been, but unlike the past questions, Eve felt her stomach turn and knot at the sound of it.

She thought about her conversation with Fernando and Douglas.

You should tell him how you feel. It's Valentine's Day, and you look fit.

Fernando's words resounded in her head. She wondered what her friends were doing now, and if looking fit was an actual strategy for professing one's romantic feelings for another. It was the only shot left she could take, she just hoped her friends would do the same.

"Because I fancy you, but I don't know if you fancy me," Eve said. She immediately heard the sound of George's footsteps stopping with her words, and she turned to meet his halted frame.

"Eve…" George started.

Eve felt his arm reach for hers and pull her into him. Face to face, she watched his eyes trail all corners of her expression. Even in the moonlight, she could see the litter of freckles on his cheeks. The breathless feeling came again.

"Can we talk before we snog?" Eve asked, her voice almost a whisper. She wasn't quite sure if she didn't want to be heard by any possible eavesdropper or George himself.

"I fancy you, Eve," George said, letting out a breathless laugh, "Bloody hell, I don't know which one of us is worse at signals."

"Probably me," Eve sighed.

"Yeah, I reckon," George grinned.

"But you didn't say anything either, George," Eve countered now, feeling her frustration build up from the last couple weeks of their misguided exploits.

"I suppose I just didn't want to ruin it with a conversation," George replied with a shrug, but when he saw the dissatisfaction in Eve's face at his answer, he continued. "You're so hot and cold, Eve. One day you're kissing me in the middle of the corridor, the next you won't wave back to me."

George's last sentence caused a short laugh from Eve, the humor mixed of both embarrassment and stupidity at the memory of her drunken rudeness after the quidditch match.

"Oi, don't laugh," George replied, trying his best to sound offended although a grin was already plastered on his face from her reaction, "Made me look like proper knobhead out there."

Eve sighed and closed the remaining space between them in one short step. Facing close to George now, she lifted her arms, trailing them up his torso and around his shoulders, before combing her fingers through his hair. She looked up at him with a small, shy smile as if she had never done this act before.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you. I was confused and I didn't trust myself to figure it out," Eve said, her voice low and humorless now as she watched George's expression fall to mirror her sincerity with his.

"And I'm sorry for thinking I didn't have to figure it out," George replied, a small grin forming on his face as he began to trace the waist of her skirt with his hands.

Eve nodded, a soft smile growing as she invited George to take her waist and pull her closer. He leaned his face farther into hers, the warmth of his breath hitting her neck.

"Can we snog now?" George whispered.

Hands still in his hair, Eve guided his face from her neck and to her lips, their mouths coming together with the ease of familiar lovers momentarily separated by life and time. One week apart from George had been too much Eve. She realized it now, as his tongue separated her lips and her own welcomed him in. Eve felt one of his hands glide down from her waist and rest on her backside. He gave her bum a squeeze between the material of her skirt, and Eve let out a giggle.

Their kisses were hard and feverish as if a proclamation of emotions was all it took to break the boundaries that separated their bodies before. At least, that was what Eve felt at that moment, as she let one of her hands fall to the hem of George's knit sweater, her hand snaking inside to rub the flesh of his chest. She heard his breathing hitch as her hand began to travel lower.

"Eve," George breathed between kisses, only managing to find his words when he pulled away completely from Eve's lips. He grinned as Eve let out a disgruntled huff.

"I don't want to stop, but we don't have the best track record for kissing out in the open like this," George explained.

Eve nodded, studying George's face as she thought of any possible solution to continue kissing it. Then, an idea struck her, and her legs moved instantly. Thankfully, she still had a hold on George, and so he was pulled in tow. Hand in hand, Eve led him through corridor to corridor, passing only unobservant ghosts or distracted couples as they went. There was no delirious groundskeeper, no Umbridge, no various badged Slytherin with a borne vendetta. There was nothing in their way, nothing to interrupt them in awkwardness or pull them apart for the night in unsatisfied farewell. It was a sign to Eve, luck was working for the first time ever, so she aimed to risk it.

They finally entered the backside of the castle and began walking through the open courtyard and lower onto the castle grounds. By then, George must have realized now where they were headed because he let out a light laugh. Eve stopped in front of the door of the sixth year greenhouse and began fishing inside her coat for her wand.

"This is very sentimental," George muttered, stealing a second to plant a kiss on the back of Eve's neck. She grinned and pulled out her wand.

"Sprout lets me have the password," Eve whispered.

"Ah, for that extra study time, yeah?" George laughed.

Eve rolled her eyes, even though George was not facing her to see it. She pointed her wand at the door.

"Motherwort."

The door opened instantly, and Eve led the way inside, glancing amongst the familiar room with a strange satisfaction in having legally infiltrated it for illegal activities.

"Can I tell you something?" George's voice came from behind, and Eve turned to face him.

"What is it?" Eve asked. She felt a tinge of apprehension in her stomach as she answered.

"At the beginning of the school year, when we asked you to grow the Aconite," George began, "We actually only needed those first two batches. After that, we found a supplier outside of school. But I didn't want to stop seeing you, so I kept asking you to grow more."

Eve watched a guilty grin form on his face as she thought over his words, multiple missing points connecting within her mind from the last year as she thought over her time with George. She began to peel her coat off before tossing it over the stool beside her. George watched her carefully from his distance.

"Well, that explains why you didn't seem to care much when our garden got frozen over," Eve said, leaning back on the head of the long table behind her. George took a few steps closer.

"I didn't need to. We were already friends by then," George said.

"And what are we now?" Eve asked, her voice coming out near to a whisper as she watched George move to close the distance between them completely.

With Eve leaning on the table, he towered over her now, but George leveled himself further by leaning down to meet her face, both his hands placed on either side of the table beside each of her legs. The soft touch of his hands brushing her bare thighs caused an eruption of goosebumps around the skin that was connected.

"Whatever you want us to be," George finally answered, his face hovering close to Eve's but with no sudden intention of moving.

Perhaps, he was waiting for Eve's expression to confirm that he had said what she wanted to hear. That everything, in fact, was alright between them and always had been. They had just gotten caught up in the misled and misconducted communication of it all. The signals had finally aligned, and Eve felt a profoundly comfortable joy that she hadn't felt in a long while.

Eve reached a hand to his face, tracing the shape of his jaw with her thumb and watching the whites of his eyes glisten in the reflection of the moonlight that was cast over them. There was a faint smudge of red around his lips, where she had kissed him earlier with not the faintest care for her lipstick, and she presumed it was all over her face now, too. Eve smiled, and George smiled back.

"I think I'm done talking for now," Eve said, and even though her chosen words came out a bit flustered and immature, there was a comfortable sincerity in it that she knew George could hear.

He nodded, and then he kissed her.

And then, again and again, their lips dancing with one another, sometimes with wild passion, sometimes with gentle certainty. George's mouth only finally leaving Eve's to pepper the spots of her cheeks and jawline, stopping to graze her neck with no prospects of ending until Eve knew marks would be left. Eve found herself murmuring his name under her breath, the sound undoubtedly causing George's kisses to turn into soft bites, as one of his hands began to graze her thigh.

Eve's hands left George's body to travel to her own, where she started fumbling with the buttons of her cardigan, popping each one off until she could feel a cold air hit her exposed chest. Eve let out a sharp breath, and George's attention pulled away from her neck, his eyes turning to hers and then grazing down to her stomach and bra.

Eve felt a blush rise as she watched his eyes on her body, feeling both the rush of excitement and vulnerability that came with revealing yourself to someone for the first time. All Eve could do was pull her face into his again and replace the work of his eyes with his hands. She helped him peel her cardigan off each of her arms and then gently let her hands graze the sides of the table, so George could have total space to explore her body. Eve bit his lip and felt his hand squeeze her breast.

George's jumper soon came off, leaving Eve to explore his collarbone and chest with the delicate trace of her lips. Eve felt her skirt begin to rise as their torsos grazed one another through kisses and touches, and she gently spread her legs to invite him closer. George followed the motion and only kept a space between them to let his hand graze her thigh. A soft moan escaped Eve's lips as she felt his thumb draw tender circles from the inside of her thigh.

This was the point of no reach, Eve thought to herself. She had been here with boys before and had let some go further even. But they had not been George, and it had never been this very moment, under the moonlight glare of the greenhouse. The wooden table creaked from under her, and Eve pulled her lips from his. George's eyes fluttered open, and he breathlessly awaited her words.

"George, I'm not losing my virginity in the Herbology classroom."

There was a slight rise in George's eyes. Perhaps, not anticipating the mention of her virginity, or perhaps he was just surprised Eve had assumed they were going to have sex. He grinned after a moment and left a small peck on her temple.

"I wasn't planning on that happening," George whispered.

Eve grinned and pulled his face to hers again, and the couple shared a drawn, tender kiss. George finally pulled away to meet her eyes, a soft expression of severity on his face.

"Just tell me what you want," George murmured.

But Eve had run out of words and was growing weary from the pauses between their touches. She grabbed his hand and ran it up her thigh, placing it at the delicate spot it once was before they have broken out into words again. She searched for his neck and breathed in his ear.

"How about I just show you, now?"