Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Harry Potter universe, that all belongs to J.K. Rowling. Non Llewellyn however is mine
Chapter 14
I rubbed at my eyes that had grown tired from reading such ridiculously tiny print for hours on end but I felt a small smile of triumph curl the corners of my mouth and I allowed myself a moment to feel a little smug. There was no way on this earth that anyone else had even touched this book for years. It also, more importantly, hadn't been updated since the war. I carefully tabbed the crucial page before I shut the heavy cover with a resounding thud and I sat back to stretch, groaning slightly in pain as the cramped muscles in my back protested.
"Alright there Llewellyn?"
I snapped my eyes open to be met with a brown paper bag being waved in front of my face and I glanced up to see Ron towering over me. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion as I sniffed the bag experimentally and my eyebrows shot up and I snatched the bag to me, ignoring Ron's protesting "Oi!".
"Oh wow Ron, bagels! Are they for me?"
He pulled a face at my exaggerated eyelash batting but grunted in the affirmative and I hummed happily before scooping one of the bagels out and taking a ginormous bite.
"Figured I owed you some, plus you didn't seem yourself this morning. What the hell happened in training?"
I was inordinately pleased Ron had the decency to at least lean in and whisper that question even as I grimaced around my mouthful of food. I pointed to my full face to indicate I'd be a while in answering which was a good thing really as I was still simmering with anger under the surface about it. I'd had training with Ron and lately either I'd been winning or Ron would just pinch it from me. We were complete opposites in both stature and how we approached duelling but we were weirdly very well matched. It was much better than duelling Harry anyway. He was so much better than anyone else he always won, after a time it was just demoralising.
Training with Ron had been going along well like normal, until the door had opened and I'd clocked the once muscular figure that was now easily moving in the 'middle-aged spread' stage enter the room. It was Auror Stent and as Beckett had so kindly ordered me I had a role to play. I started to mistime some of my spells. Only slightly, and not very often, it wouldn't have done for Ron to have called a halt to training to ask what the bloody hell I was playing at. Beckett hadn't told me not to discuss my meeting with anyone else but he'd heavily implied secrecy. Training had finally ended with me 'tripping' during a manoeuvre and Ron embarrassingly easily disarming me. The memory of Stent's chuckle of amusement still felt humiliating hours later and I suspected it would take days to pass. I finally swallowed my mouth full of food.
"You had your meeting with Beckett yet?"
"Oh right I get it, change the subject. You're such a sore loser sometimes you know that?"
Ron groused at me in annoyance but as he sat at his desk he frowned slightly and gave me a short nod which I returned, relieved. He'd got what I meant then, or at least I hoped so, that the end of this morning's training wasn't something that I would have willingly had occur.
"What the hell are you reading the office manual for anyway? I didn't even realise this department even bloody well had one."
I hid my smirk behind my bagel but this time I deliberately changed the subject. I didn't want anyone to know why I was nosing through it.
"How's Luna?"
Ron outright scowled at me but at the sound of the arrival of new voices heading towards the department, that were I realised with a sinking feeling Aurors Stent and Proctor, Ron straightened up and to my amazement actually began to talk, deliberately not lowering his voice.
"Oh she's great, she's still in Finland. She writes me every couple of days, it's amazing the things she gets to see, I'm a bit jealous really."
There was a wistful tone to Ron's voice that if he really was just putting it on then Merlin's beard he'd excelled to a better level of acting than I'd thought possible. He had a goofy grin on his face but his eyes were a bit hard as he stared at me and I let my eyes flicker to the side to see if we had an audience. Stent was leaning over another auror's desk but his head was tilted our way, not much, but enough that I guessed he was listening.
"Ooooh letters!" I let out a girlish giggle as I bounced to my feet and hurried over to Ron's desk where I hopped on to sit, my legs swinging, "Can I see?"
"No you bloody can't."
He rubbed a hand over his jaw to try and hide the twitch of a smile at my own out of character behaviour.
"Aw c'mon."
I continued to badger Ron and he rebuffed my attempts for the whole time Stent was in the room. Let him think I was a bit of a giggling idiot and for whatever reasons Ron had, let him think Ron was blissfully happy in a 'relationship' with Luna. I knew first hand Ron was still miserable to no longer be with Hermione but he clearly didn't want Stent to know that. The slight tension leaving my shoulders was enough for Ron to see when our observer had left the room but we continued our charade for a couple of minutes more just in case.
Finally with a roll of my eyes I trundled back over to my desk, and moved to place the office manual in my bottom draw. I still had to compile a few lists and triple check what information I wanted to include but, thanks to Clause 450(3)(5)(27)(x) in Schedule XXII I now knew that I could now request the information I wanted, about the auror records prior to the war and the Azkaban rotas, anonymously. Extremely strict criteria applied so I would have to be very careful with my wording but I hoped by the weeks end I could at least get my request sent off. Then it would be a matter of waiting which I hoped wouldn't go into weeks but with the Ministry being overly bureaucratic I wasn't holding my breath.
I glanced at my watch and cursed.
"What's up?"
"Oh just I'm going to be late to see George. Apparently I've won a prize."
Ron's snort of laughter did nothing to dispel the nerves I was feeling.
"How the bloody hell has he talked you in to that? No, don't tell me actually I don't want to know. All I'll say is, it was nice knowing you."
"Hey now you can't say that, what do you mean?"
"Listen Llewellyn whenever either of the twins offer a prize, the prize is usually something of benefit to them and nearly always involves the workshop. Tell me, am I wrong?"
I scrunched my nose in annoyance.
"Well, I have been told to go to the workshop."
Ron chortled before laughing loudly when I stuck my middle finger up at him in response.
"Next time I see you, I'll tell you I told you so Llewellyn."
I scowled slightly but just rolled my eyes in response. I was as I'd noticed on my way to being late and I didn't want to waste any more time quibbling with Ron.
"Whatever Weasley, I'll prove you wrong."
And with Ron laughing at my obvious false bravado I made my way apprehensively towards Diagon Alley, wishing that my palms would stop sweating. Really getting a prize shouldn't be this stressful and in all honesty as this was technically one of the few late afternoon to evening I'd had free recently I would much rather have gone home to either potter about in the garden or simply sleep. I was honest to Helga getting so tired that I'd started to tremble badly at even the slightest surges of adrenaline again which I had thought after my phased return to work I was slowly getting over. It had only been coming up to six weeks though so I supposed I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.
I hurried down the alley, making a mental note to call in to the apothecary soon as I was getting seriously low on some of my potions and given my work schedule I was struggling to manage the timings to brew my own. It would make a big dint in my wages but I always felt better with my stock of emergency potions on hand. The way my luck went, it would be the one potion I didn't have that I would no doubt find myself in a situation desperately needing.
It was approaching three in the afternoon, but the twins' shop was still fairly busy despite the fact all of the children of schooling age were now away at Hogwarts. There were a surprising number of adults in the shop too which surprised me. I didn't think joke products would be appealing to grownups as much but then I'd avoided the twins and their shop so successfully over the last couple of years I realised I didn't actually know much about their products at all.
I took my time now to quietly peruse the shelves and I was amazed to see how many products really were targeted at both children and adults. Which was canny marketing really, when I thought about it. The kids would drag their parents in and this increased the odds of everyone leaving having bought something, and it was a way to keep the shop busy all year around.
"Somehow, I don't think you need one of those."
A voice just to my right startled me badly and I fumbled to return the shield hat I had been holding back on the shelf, somehow managing to knock at least a half a dozen others off in the process and I flushed with embarrassment as I turned towards the voice.
"Jumpy, aren't you?"
George was looking at my quizzically but there was a shadow of a smile on his face and I ducked my head down to try and compose myself. I must have been more tired than I thought as honestly even though I was more easily startled these days it was pretty rare someone could approach me in a public space with my not realising.
"Just a bit tired." I managed to reply as I quickly knelt to gather up the hats before I stood and moved to replace them on the shelf. "And no, I definitely don't need one of these."
"Didn't think so. You ready for your prize?"
The easy full smile was back on his face and he was, now that I had recovered slightly from my embarrassment to pay proper attention, nearly bouncing on his feet in excitement.
"I am suspicious about my prize."
His grin widened.
"Excellent! Right, come along Non."
He ignored my indignant squawk as he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around before his hands clamped on to them again as he propelled me forward. I did my best to shrug from under his grip but he was completely unyielding and as I shot a glare at him over my shoulder he had the audacity to laugh.
As we got closer to the counter and the door to the backroom area there were more customers and I could feel a blush forming as I saw them starting to stare.
"Excuse me, coming through! We have secured a willing human volunteer for our next set of products, except to see them on shelves ready for Christmas. Spread the word!"
Chuckles erupted around us but before I could even try and scowl at George he had pushed me through the door to the store room and closed it behind us.
"I am not a willing volunteer!"
I spun to face him, a full frown on my face but he just chortled at me and reached out to tweak my hair, laughing fully as I slapped his hand away.
"I know that. We've already tested everything. Still I thought you'd like a tour of the place and you'll get to be the first person to try out our new products. See? A true prize."
He winked at me and I allowed my frown to soften slightly. I supposed there would be a lot of people who would love a chance to do this but I wasn't exactly a fan of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes products.
"Hmm."
"Hmm? What do you mean hmm?"
"I'm afraid I need convincing George. An unnamed source revealed to be that it is not untypical that your prizes tend to benefit you more than the winner of said prize."
"Slanderous, absolutely slanderous!"
I suppose I'd have taken George's exclamation of outrage more seriously if he hadn't still been grinning at me.
"It's not slander if it's the truth."
"Well then challenge accepted Non, convince you I shall."
My stomach flipped slightly with nerves at the look he directed at me, it was half serious half mischief filled but I was soon enough distracted from my nerves as he hooked a finger in the belt loop of my jeans to get me to follow him around the store room. What followed was a very entertaining but lengthy explanation of how he and Fred had set up the shop, how things were set up here to work before moving on to explain how some of the products in the store room shelves worked. Throughout this I repeatedly kept trying to unhook his finger, usually by means of elbowing him in the stomach but George seemed to take no notice of my attempts and I couldn't bring myself to elbow him hard. Sure he was being annoying, but I didn't want to actually hurt him.
Finally George led me through to the workshop which was there I knew no customers were allowed to tread. It was a surprisingly spacious room with a high ceiling. Two of the walls were covered from top to bottom with shelves, all of which contained either ingredients or what looked like finalised or half finished products. The sheer number of potions and items was a bit overwhelming but as I wandered away from George who was shrugging out of his magenta work robes to take a closer look I could see that they at least seemed to have some sort of order and indexing albeit messily labelled. There was also I could feel a faint magical barrier across the face of the shelves and as I turned to look at the rest of the room I could understand why. There were scorch marks dotted all across the opposite wall and I could see as I glanced up, that there were a number on the ceiling too.
The main feature of the room however was the work table. It was massive, taking up nearly all of the room and at one end there had to have been at least seven cauldrons on the go, each bubbling away quietly as the potions in them brewed.
"Wow."
"Impressed?"
I tried to ignore the spike of anxiety his voice caused as I glanced across to see that he now stood leant up against the wall to the right of the door, his hands slung into his jean pockets.
"Very."
And I mean, I was. It was one thing to know that the twins had set this all up on their own and created their own products, that was impressive in itself. But I hadn't realised on what scale they operated and plus the fact that they did this just the two of them. I wondered briefly how they had time to do anything other than work.
George pushed off the wall with a smile before gesturing to the end of the worktable.
"Here, these are the products you get to try."
I shot a surprised glance at the table, I hadn't even noticed the plain brown boxes set out in a row.
"I missed those, the packaging is nowhere near as-
"-eye-catching, magnificent, mesmerising –"
"Garish as normal."
George scoffed a laugh.
"Well you said it yourself you missed these ones. Our wonderful packaging works."
I hummed my agreement before turning to the boxes, hoping that my apprehension wasn't showing. I wasn't a big fan of joke products really, I didn't like anything that altered my perception or left me with something I couldn't control. I chanced a nervous glance between the boxes and George only to take a step back in surprise to see that he had been looking at me intently.
"What?"
George ran a hand through his hair before he glanced at the boxes and then back to me.
"You're nervous."
Damn, he had noticed.
"Um, just a bit. I'm a pretty risk averse person and your joke products have a reputation you know."
I aimed for a teasing tone and at the small smile that appeared on George's face it seemed to have worked and I felt a surge of relief.
"Well nothing to fear from these. They'll just change your appearance a bit, sort of like our canary cream but these," he popped one of the boxes open, "Focus more on individual facial features, come see."
I took a step back closer and peered into the box. A row of what looked like blue marshmallows sat there.
"Well, they don't look too harmful."
"Nah they're great, see here."
George popped one of the sweets into his mouth, chewed for a moment and then before my eyes the lower half of his face morphed into a duck's bill. I had no idea how they would even begin to work that sort of magic into a sweet to get it to do that.
"Can you even talk like that?"
It turns out that George in fact could talk with a duck bill for a mouth, or well slightly. Certainly he could sound out some of the words but the look of sheer concentration on his face as he attempted it soon had me helplessly giggling and before I could second guess myself I scooped up one of the sweets and popped it into my own mouth. If George was happy to make a fool of himself, in a good way, then there was no reason for me to be so apprehensive about doing the same.
It was the weirdest feeling, my mouth turning into a ducks bill. I mean I'd done transfiguration on myself before but it wasn't ever anything to do with animal transfiguration and what these sweets did didn't really feel like the same thing as a spell.
I think I laughed more over the next hour than I had for years. They'd managed to create sweets for facial features to morph into ten different types of animal features and the sheer absurdity of how we appeared was enough in itself to make me laugh. The effects didn't last for more than three minutes and George took the time between sweets to explain how tricky they had been to create, not just for them to actually work but to get the sweets tasting nice and all sorts of things that I wouldn't have even thought of.
He was however currently still doubled over against the worktable laughing at me as I put a protective hand up against my nose.
"S-stop laughing George, I can't make it stop twitching."
I managed to gasp out my words through my own giggles as George looked at me, his eyes streaming.
"You made the most ad-adorable rabbit face I've ever seen."
My nose twitched and George, who had slowly been catching his breath, started laughing again so I shoved him in response.
He was still sniggering to himself as he straightened before he dragged me over to a wooden door on the side wall.
"Here, let's go up to the flat as the shop's closed by now."
I gazed apprehensively as he opened the door to reveal a small wooden staircase.
"Are you this suspicious of everything? It's just some stairs Non. Look, completely harmless."
George had scoffed at me slightly, and I bit my lip. I supposed I was a bit overly suspicious but then that came with part of the job. He had bounded no more than three steps up however when a water balloon smacked him full in the face and he stumbled back. There was a beat of silence.
"FRED!"
George bellowed up to his twin but even as he started racing up the stairs, getting smacked by more water balloons on the way he was already laughing uproariously.
I followed at a slower pace, wondering if the twins were always like this. They seemed to have boundless energy and enthusiasm for well…everything. I couldn't get my head around it.
By the time I got to the top of the stairs and entered the flat, George and Fred were already tussling in the kitchen, one of the chairs making a slight screeching sound as the legs scraped across the floor as it was pushed out of the way.
"I'll – I'll just go, shall I?"
They paused almost comically mid fight, with George having Fred secured in a head-lock.
"No don't go, I just need to finish beating Fred up, won't be a mo'"
"He's all talk Non, George hasn't been able to beat me since we were three."
The scuffle started back up again and I just shook my head at them.
"I think it's safer if I leave. Bye George." I called as I started walking backwards away from the kitchen. "Bye Fred, it was nice knowing you."
Fred's shout of annoyance was matched with George's one of triumph as I giggled slightly and turned to leave. I had only just reached the door to the flat when a loud crash followed by the slamming of a door made me turn back around to see George hurrying along the hallway towards me, wiping his wet hair back from his forehead.
"Victory!"
He crowed in triumph and I couldn't help the amused smile that crossed my face before I let out a gasp of surprise.
"Oh here, I almost forgot to give you this."
I rummaged around in my bag, impatiently using my want to accio what I needed before I handed a bundle of books to George.
"The greatest works of Mr Dahl. As requested."
George let out a small sound of surprise as he took the bundle from me, his fingers tracing along the spines.
"You got them. Thank you."
I was so flummoxed by George's abrupt switch from hyperactive to quietly sincere I didn't really know how to act so simply shrugged in response.
"I meant to ask you before Fred distracted me, but Ginny and her team are playing against Puddlemere United on Saturday and we've managed to get tickets. You want to come?"
I kept a small smile on my face even as I felt my anxiety start churning in my stomach on the inside. Merlin I hadn't been to watch a quidditch match since, my stomach swooped as I remembered, the league final in north Wales. I had to fight a blush as the flickering memory of the club flashed through my mind. I hadn't gone to any matches because since being diagnosed with PTSD I found large crowds too difficult to deal with. I also knew that Beckett wouldn't like me going anywhere so public with George in case the press spotted us.
Think Non, think of a reason why you can't go.
A reason did thankfully pop into my head and even better it was a legitimate one.
"I'm working on Saturday George, I'm sorry."
It should be impossible for anyone to look as crestfallen as George now did and I winced.
"I really am sorry."
"Can't you change your shift? I know Ginny would love it if you were there."
Oh that was low. Playing the Ginny card. I bit my lip as I thought. I mean part of my getting better was to try and start socialising and experiencing things again so maybe I could use this as an opportunity but really…going to a match, going with George, and all where the press could see me, I really didn't think I could do that.
"Please?"
"Alright."
Oh for fucks sake. The word had slipped out before I even knew I'd thought it.
"I mean I'll try," I hurried to clarify. "I can't guarantee it, but I'll try."
George beamed.
"Brilliant! The match starts at two in the afternoon so we're looking to meet outside the main stand at half one so I'll see you there."
Ah shit, I was going to have to make someone switch shifts with me.
"Okay."
I turned to open the door and quickly stepped through. I was already feeling coils of panic about the weekend and all of a sudden the only thing I wanted to do was be home. I took a quiet breath before turning to face him, knowing what was coming next.
"Bye George."
"Bye Non."
And sure enough he leant in to envelop me in a hug. I didn't tense as much this time but I was still hesitant in hugging him back although I'd dome to realise that George wouldn't let me go until I did. I gave him an awkward wave after we parted and I quickly hurried down the stairs, taking in a big gulp of air when I reached Diagon Alley.
How the hell am I going to survive on Saturday?
It was all I could think of for the rest of the week. It was like I was falling right back into all of my bad habits; I lost my appetite as I felt permanently nauseous and I kept myself awake at night agonising about how I was going to come. And to my misery, Gilden had even agreed to swap shifts with me. It was like the world was conspiring against me.
What was worse was that the swapped shift was for the early hours of Saturday morning which meant that I didn't even arrive home until just after eleven o'clock in the morning. It was the worst preparation for a stressful day that I possibly could have had.
I took my time getting ready. I needed to be as unobtrusive as possible so that people overlooked me which wasn't difficult, but what I really needed to do was try and ensure my face was hidden as much as possible.
I slipped in to my dark wash jeans that were tighter fitting than my normal ones. This allowed me to tuck the ends into my flat black boots that came up to my mid shin. They had the softest soles on any shoe I owned so I knew they would make next to no noise as I walked. I shrugged in to a dark grey t-shirt and made sure to pack a grey jumper for the evening in case the game went on that long. It was sunny here near Ynys Hir so I guessed it would be just as bright in London so I made sure to get my sunglasses out ready. After some rummaging as well I managed to find an old navy baseball hat and I charmed the front of it to bear the Holyhead Harpies logo. With that on my head and the glasses on my face I should be obscured enough. Finally I turned to my bag. It was only a simple small dark brown leather satchel but I wore it everywhere and there was a risk it could be recognised. I quickly muttered a spell and it morphed into a far more stylish grey handbag but it still had a long strap so I could wear it over my shoulder.
Finally satisfied with my appearance I locked up the house, took a deep breath and apparated. Puddlemere United played on the outskirts of London, fairly close to Twickenham, the sports ground for the muggle sport of rugby, and there were designated apparition points for arrival at the four corners. I moved out of the way quickly once I'd appeared, knowing there would be many others arriving after me and I took a moment to lean up against a wall and compose myself.
There were people everywhere. The noise was almost overwhelming. So many voices talking, shouting, laughing and they were all just being so normal and happy.
I wonder what that's like.
I tried to shut off that miserable trail of thought as I focused on calming my breathing and gazing around. There were numerous stands set up with people trying to flog their wares and even, I groaned quietly, Fred and George were holding court at the centre of a large flock of onlookers and they were absolutely in their element. I could see Hermione's familiar head of hair as she stood amongst the crowd, her arms folded but a small smile on her face. I hadn't really managed to see her this week but I wondered how she was feeling. She had always come to matches with Ron before.
I stood watching quietly even as the time crawled closer to two o'clock and the crowds started to disperse as everyone made their way into the stands. The twins had packed up their belongings, Fred talking quietly to Hermione although I could see George craning his head around to look about him and I bit my lip. I needed to walk over now.
I took a breath, counted to ten and as I exhaled I pushed off the wall to walk over to them. Fred and Hermione were turning to head through to the stands and they walked past without even glancing at me and I felt a weird mixture of relief that my outfit was working but disappointed that they hadn't even given me a second glance. George was still working on packing up boxes slowly before he shrank them to fit into a small case he had with him, and I knelt down quietly.
"Need a hand?"
George startled slightly before he gave me a double glance ducking his head slightly to try and see under my baseball cap.
"You came."
"Yeah of course. I just…"
I didn't know how to explain myself. Should I tell him how horrible I was feeling? I decided perhaps just telling him about Beckett would be enough explanation.
"My boss doesn't want me in the papers."
I glanced up, having to tilt my head back awkwardly to look at him from under my cap. There was a small frown on his face but as I tipped my head towards Fred and Hermione he glanced that way and I saw understanding spread across his face. They were both still walking towards the stands, Fred having made a stop at a stall for some refreshments, but there were three photographers following them.
"You're famous George. And I work with two of the golden trio. My boss will go nuts if another of his team becomes well known."
"Well that explains the hat."
He didn't look happy at all and I squirmed slightly.
"I've got these too." I waved my sunglasses at him and his frown deepened again.
"I won't be able to see your face."
"Neither will anyone else. That's kind of the point."
"I don't like it."
"I don't really have a choice George. It's this or I don't go to the match."
He stared at me hard for a moment before nodding. I wasn't really sure why he was bothered so much I mean, I was here wasn't I? I nodded at him and stood, whilst slipping my sunglasses on.
"Did you want anything to drink?"
"I wouldn't mind a butterbeer. Here hold on," George started rifling through his pockets for some money but I held out a hand to stop him.
"Hey it's on me. You got the match tickets right? I'll just be a sec."
I ignored his protests as I moved quickly to one of the stalls and hurried back when I had the drinks although I slowed slightly when I saw George had moved to stand with Fred and Hermione. Keeping my head slightly ducked down, although really I had no need to with what I was wearing, I soon joined them.
Hermione cast me an exasperated look but was at least fighting a grin as I shrugged my shoulders at her.
"Right shall we head in then?"
Fred sounded impatient so we all quickly made our way to the stands where our seats were. We were, thankfully, not in the posh seats. Those were normally bought out by sponsors and even though it was reserved for friends and families the ticketing space was limited and as I assumed Ron and Harry had the pleasure of the luxury seats for this match. Fred led us all to the main stand and started to climb up the steps. We were roughly half way up and to my horror I saw our empty seats were smack bang in the middle of a row.
Oh god, what if I needed to get out in a hurry? What if I panicked and everyone saw? What if I needed the loo? I fumed inwardly at that last thought. I'd bloody had a wee before I left the house, I wouldn't need to go again for ages why oh why did such irrational thoughts always plague me?
"After you."
George's voice and hand on my arm jolted me back to attention as I saw Hermione had already made her way to her seat quickly followed by Fred and I swallowed nervously before making my way forward with George just a step behind. Soon enough I found myself squeezed into my seat in between Fred and George and if I'd had hopes that we would be swallowed up in the crowd I was wrong.
The twins were of course wearing their bright lime green dragon hide jackets and added to that the presence of Hermione everyone around us was clamouring for their attention. If it was like this now it must have been unbearable right after the war. The twins seemed to take it in their stride, they were much better than Hermione at handling the attention and indeed they seemed to use it as an opportunity to promote their shop. I sat there as quietly as I could, one hand holding my bottle of butterbeer as I tried to stop my other tapping out a nervous rhythm against my knee.
I could feel the tightness in my chest that spoke of panic so I set myself the mission of working out the escape routes at the stadium and quickly clocked where the security guards were. I often found if I could focus on smaller things, or things that I would have to view as if I was working, it helped to calm me down.
Finally the crowd around us died down and the stadium announcers voice started to ring out and the two quidditch teams made their way on to the pitch. Even from this distance and with her hair tied up, Ginny still stood out. As the faint sound of the whistle blew, 14 broomsticks and their riders shot up in to the air and I felt the thrum of the roar of the crowd surge through me and I felt my legs begin to tremble. There was just too much adrenaline in my system.
In a way I was glad there were no backs to these seats, that we were effectively sat on long wooden benches, because it meant I could lean forward slightly, one of my arms tucked in around my midriff as I pretended fascination with the game when really I was counting the number of flags that were fluttering at the top of the opposite stand.
I was just starting to calm down when George started leaning in behind me to chat with Fred. The first time he did it I startled to badly some butterbeer even sloshed out of my bottle. It had now gotten to the stage that as he was sharing a running commentary with Fred he was permanently leant in, one hand steadying himself on the bench between Fred and I. His hand was so close to me it was practically touching the side of my thigh and I knew if I sat back upright it would look like I was sitting with his arm around me. What the hell was he playing at?
I cast him a slightly irritated glance but when he caught me looking in his direction he only gazed at me blankly and it took a second for me to remember I was wearing my sunglasses so he wouldn't be able to read my expression so I let out a sigh and turned my gaze forward again. By Merlin, this game was going on for hours and I shifted, slightly uncomfortable in my seat and I took full advantage of the opportunity of George leaving to get some more drinks when there was a break in play due to a blood injury to be able to straighten up in my seat and stretch. Glancing to my right I could see that Hermione was enthralled in a book and Fred was looking at her with a half irritated half amused expression. All I felt was envy – why the hell hadn't I thought to bring a book?
George settling himself back into his seat and waving a bottle of butterbeer under my nose drew me back to attention and I thankfully accepted the bottle from him with a small smile.
"You alright?"
"Oh yeah, it's a good match."
I think it was anyway.
George lent in a bit closer.
"You've been pretty much shaking in your seat the whole time. What's wrong?"
I snapped my head to look at him, nearly taken aback at how close he was given he'd leaned in to whisper it and I pressed my lips together tightly in annoyance. I mean for fucks sake part of why I'd been feeling so uncomfortable was that he had no concept of bloody personal space. I bit back those words though when I saw he seemed genuinely concerned but really, why did he always have to notice? Why couldn't he just pretend like I was okay like I was trying to do?
"It's just adrenaline George."
"The games not even exciting Non."
Ah okay, so not a good match.
"I just…I haven't been to a quidditch match since the Harpies won the league."
"You were there?"
George's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I felt my heart clench. Oh shit. So much for not mentioning north Wales. I flushed.
"Oh, yeah, why were you there?"
That's it Non, pretend complete ignorance. If he even has a shadow of a memory of seeing you do something stupid make him doubt it.
"Yeah of course, wouldn't have missed my little sister help win the league."
I smiled at that and as the whistle sounded again showing the game re-started I settled more comfortably in my seat with this time George providing me with an almost running commentary which meant I only had to nod along at the right places. He really, really loved this sport which was both endearing and slightly alarming. It was at times like he was living every moment out there.
As evening started to draw in and night lights started to appear to keep the sky lit, the game began to get more violent. I also, I cursed, had to take off my sunglasses. The temperature had also started to dip and after a second shiver I leant forward for my bag to retrieve a jumper only to feel something heavy settle against my shoulders. George had placed his jacket on my and I looked at it aghast. I couldn't wear this monstrosity.
"Er George, I've got a jumper in my bag."
He however simply ignored me as he was rummaging in his own small case and he soon sat back with a folded up navy blue knitted jumper in his hands and my jaw dropped.
"You have that and you gave me this to wear?"
I'd blurted the question out before I could stop myself.
"What's wrong with the jacket?"
George cast me an affronted look and I bit my lip in embarrassment.
"Um…it's lime green?"
He snorted an amused laugh at me before pushing the jumper on to my lap, and removing the jacket from my shoulders.
"Fine, we'll swap."
I sat there flummoxed for a moment. I mean I didn't need his jumper when I had my own but he was looking at my expectantly and I shifted uncomfortably until another gust of a cool breeze decided it for me. I nervously eyed up the size of the neckline wondering if my hat would fit through it or if I'd have to take it off first. In annoyance I ducked my head down, took of the hat and put the jumper on in one swift moment. Or at least it's what I tried to do. I hadn't factored in how much more material would be on a man's jumper than the ones I usually wore. My head finally emerged back out in the open with my hair swept full across my face as I struggled to get my hands to appear at the end of the sleeves. One they were finally free I placed the hat back on my head and let out a sigh of relief as by Helga this jumper was comfortable. Ginny had always raved about how good her mum's knitting was but seriously – wow.
"Better?"
"Much. This is super comfy. Thank you."
I mean also ridiculously too big for me. George got distracted then by whatever was happening on the pitch and I set about to rolling the sleeves up so I could maintain proper use of my hands. I sniffed deeply as the breeze carried a lovely smell with it. It was a bit woodsy, almost like how the countryside at home smelt after it had rained and the sun came back out, earthy and green and nice. Which didn't make sense for London at all. I sat up straighter and turned around to scan the horizon. Was there a park somewhere near? I mean it had clouded over, perhaps there had been a localised shower or something which could explain it. I breathed in deeply again. Merlin this was going to drive me mad if I couldn't-
"LOOK OUT!"
I didn't even have time to process Fred's below before I had been yanked roughly to the left, a strong arm wrapping tightly around me as a body pressed me into the bench. There was a loud crash and splintering of wood and a few screams before the crowd settled down into excited babbling but I could hardly take it in. My heart was crashing in my chest and all I could think of was getting the body weight off of me and I jerked my shoulder hard in an attempt to dislodge it.
"Wait hey Non, hold on."
My world spun slightly as I was righted and I found myself sat on George's lap where he still had one arm wrapped tightly around me. He raised his left hand to my head to hold it steady before he leaned in to whisper quickly in my ear.
"It was just a bludger. You're alright. But there are four photographers on the way."
My fingers curled into the fabric of my jumper, or George's jumper really, as I fought to find some level of calm as I nodded my head slightly to let him know I'd understood. Just what the hell was wrong with me? I was the auror for fucks sake, the whole superfast reactions to dangerous things was supposed to be my speciality and I winced slightly as I glanced down to see the gaping hole in the bench where I had been sat just seconds before. I saw with some relief that at least my bag had escaped unscathed.
I knew at the tingling at my fingertips that I wasn't breathing properly and I took a quick shuddering breath before taking another, slightly calmer one. I couldn't freak out in front of the press. It was bad enough this had happened though I supposed if I kept my back to them they couldn't get a decent picture of us.
"Non? Hey, look at me."
George moved his hand then to my jaw to tilt my head up. I tried to resist it but his hand was firm and I reluctantly looked up to see his nose just an inch or so from mine.
"What are you doing?"
I hissed at him in panic. Why was he so close?
"What's wrong?"
He seemed genuinely confused.
"We look like we're….we're…" dear Helga I couldn't find the word, "Canoodling!"
Oh well shit Non, don't use that one.
"Canoodling?" his lip twitched. "Can-canoodling?"
George's whole torso was starting to tremble.
"Oh go ahead laugh, ah shit I can't believe I even said that."
His hand at least did leave my face then and I was free to bury my face in the sleeves of the jumper in embarrassment as George Weasley laughed his face off holding on to me for balance and I sniffed in annoyance. And froze.
Oh for fucking fucks sake. It was the jumper that smelt so nice. The smell that had distracted me had been from stupid George Weasley's jumper. I could feel my face flame. I was never, never going to admit this to anyone.
I soon realised that as we were so awkwardly placed in the crowd no one was going to come and fix the bench either and I was faced with the prospect of watching the rest of the match sat on George. If he noticed my continued trembling he didn't thankfully say anything this time but he kept one arm permanently around me. I don't think I'd ever felt so uncomfortable. I was hyper aware of his every moment, the stupid smell from the jumper kept wafting over me and all through it I couldn't help but berate myself that I had been so unaware of my surroundings that this had even happened in the first place. And I was just so tired. I hadn't slept in over twenty four hours and the stress of this whole day had nearly finished me off. It was with a huge surge of relief that Ginny caught the snitch and won the Holyhead Harpies the game.
"At a girl Ginny!"
"Flying like a true Weasley!"
The twins were ecstatic. It was weirdly nice seeing them so pleased for their sister but I was slowly coming to realise that for the Weasley's their family really were everything and it was amazing to see that they had the ability to show it publicly. There were so many families that didn't.
"C'mon, let's go and congratulate her before we head to the pub."
I scrambled quickly off George so I could pick up my bag before I started to follow him, Fred standing impatiently behind me. As we made it to the stairway though we soon became swept up in the crowd and I had to fight again to stay calm.
God I hated crowds. I really well and truly did. I felt like everyone was pressing in on me from all sides as I tried to catch my breath. This whole day had been a nightmare. I needed to get away.
"Hey George, I'm – I'm just going to pop to the loo."
I reached up to tap him on the shoulder to see if he'd heard me and as soon as I saw him nod I started to try and weave myself through the crowd. I'd clocked early on where the toilets were and thankfully my small size made it much easier to squeeze through the gaps. There was a bit of a wait at the ladies' toilets but I kept my head down as I waited patiently.
George was waiting for me when I made my way back outside and I had to hide a frown. I mean he was being nice but I really just wanted to be alone. I needed to go home and preferably pass out.
"Look, I'm going to head off."
"I figured you would."
I winced.
"Yeah, sorry to be so dull."
"You aren't dull. And stop apologising for things you don't need to."
I gazed at him unsure of what to say. Was he angry with me? He let out a frustrated sigh and walked closer.
"Look I know you don't want to go where it's crowded but I know a great place."
Panic coursed through me. No way, I seriously could not go somewhere else today.
"Nah c'mon Non don't shake your head, honestly it's really nice, trust me."
I stood almost paralysed with anxiety as George smiled reassuringly down at me, wrapped an arm around me and before I could blink I felt the squeezing sensation of apparition. I stumbled slightly as we reappeared and I wrenched myself away from him. Where the hell were we?
Panic, it was all I could feel.
"You-you can't just do that George. You can't fucking apparate me places and not tell me where!"
"Wow hey Non just-"
"Fuck off George!" I snapped harshly as he reached for me again. "I just, I need to go h-home."
My breath caught embarrassingly on the last word as I had to fight back a sob and before I could even think it through I fumbled for my wand and apparated home.
I hit the ground hard and let out a groan. Shit, I shouldn't have done that. I hadn't even known where I was apparating from. I stood gingerly and checked myself over carefully, my breathing ragged. Well at least I hadn't splinched any part of myself. I fumbled slightly with my front door, leaning on it heavily as I closed it before I walked with wobbly legs to the kitchen where I sank to the slate floor, my back against a cabinet as I stared vacantly out the back door window. It was only as my hands desperately sought the feel of the cool slate only to be met with wool that I realised I was still wearing George's jumper that I started to properly cry.
I fumbled in my bag for a handkerchief and I angrily wiped at my eyes. I was still in the process of berating myself for having overreacted so much when Hermione came running in to the house.
"Non! Non are you here?"
"I'm here."
Merlin I sounded pitiful. Hermione rounded the kitchen cabinet looking confused for a moment before her eyes darted down and she saw me.
"Are you alright? Have you splinched yourself? George came back to say you'd gone home but…" she trailed off shrugging helplessly as I let out a groan and tried to hide my face. Great, now they all knew how I'd acted.
"I haven't splinched myself 'Mione. I mean I was stupid but I'm alright."
She let out a sigh of relief as she moved to sit by me on the floor.
"Well good. Look, George is just really worried that's all. Why don't we just go to the twins flat for a quiet drink? We don't need to go to the pub."
Hermione, bless her, tried to say that as brightly as she could to cover the fact that they were all just trying to placate me.
"I don't want people to change their plans because of me. Besides I just…I really need to just well probably lie down in a darkened room for a week if I'm being honest."
I tried to chuckle and turn it into a joke but Hermione cast me a disapproving look and my half smile fell.
"I just need to sit where it's quiet Hermione. Please. I can't go anywhere else today."
"I understand."
And I could see in Hermione's clear gaze that she did. I reached out and squeezed her hand.
"I'll just go and tell the twins. Truth be told I'd much rather be here too. That quidditch match was long. I'll be back soon, okay?"
I nodded silently but dropped my head into my hands after she'd left. This whole day really had felt like a huge step backwards. I hoped it was just because I was so tired because if it wasn't…I didn't want to think about that. Instead my thoughts jumped to George. And there they stayed even long after Hermione had gotten back and we'd moved ourselves to the living room, Hermione to curl up with a book and me to just lie on the sofa, gazing at nothing as all I could replay in my head over and over was the shock and hurt on George Weasley's face when I'd told him to fuck off.
A/N: Hello, sorry for the slight delay on this one, I'd wanted it posted last weekend but life got in my way.
Welcome to my new followers
And I hope you all enjoyed this, let me know your thoughts. And as ever a special thank you to those of you who take the time to review.
Diolch/Thanks,
Yav