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Friday morning I made my way to Professor McGonagall's office to meet George. She gave me permission to be in there alone while she was teaching a class, something she rarely ever did, and I was kind of proud. I guess she was as excited for past students to feel comfortable within the castle walls again.
As soon as the clock struck nine, the Floo roared to life and George Weasley appeared in the fireplace. Apprehension was clear on his face the second he stepped into the office, I had a similar look the first couple times I walked through the corridors again. It was rough being somewhere that held only bad memories.
"Thank you so much for coming," I told him, standing up from the chair I was waiting in and heading over to greet him. "But you don't have to stay if you don't want to. It's your decision."
He gripped my upper arms and stopped their awkward movements. "It's a little weird, but I promised I'd help you out. I can't hide from this place forever."
"If you're sure," I finally said, hoping he was being honest and not just putting up a front. "I have all the things we need in my classroom. Do you want to stop by breakfast or have you already eaten?"
His smile was flat when he shook his head, but he was trying and that's what mattered. We made our way down from the Headmaster's office and into the corridor. I felt the tension wafting off George letting it fuel my next move. I reached down and slid my fingers between his, holding his hand in mine as we made our way to my classroom.
I could hear different professors lecturing from their own classrooms and smiled. There was snow falling outside the windows and a chill throughout the castle, making it feel familiar. For some reason, Hogwarts always felt a little bit more like home during the winter months than any other time.
"That's bloody eerie," he remarked as we got onto one of the moving staircases. "I remember these being nothing but rubble way down there. I remember most of this entire castle being in shambles and it looks like nothing's different than when we were first years."
I remember feeling like that when I first came back, too. Everything looked the same, with the addition of a couple ghosts and some new portraits, but I was so different. It felt like things could never be normal again, but nobody had told the castle that. I was wracking my brain to come up with something to relax him when I realized how dumb I was.
"There's something I want to show you, if you want of course," I told him suddenly, pulling him to a stop with our intertwined fingers once we were off the staircase.
Anxiety flashed across his face, but I held steady. It basically came down to if he trusted me enough to go with me. I was almost positive what I had to show him would everything different.
"You're not taking me somewhere to take advantage of me in my current state or anything, are you?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation light and just barely missing the mark.
"Believe it or not, I don't have sex with random men in the corridors of Hogwarts. It's never really been my style, even before my disfigurements," I told him, my anxiety being replaced with anger as I dropped his hands and placed mine on my hips.
His eyes were huge as he looked at me in surprise. "Lydia, that wasn't what I was implying at all! I was just trying to not make it seem like I'm an overemotional sod. I think you're really cool and I liked hanging out with you, but I would never make do anything you weren't comfortable with. Ever."
His gentle response made shameful tears burn my eyes. I babbled a lot, but I never told people about my body image issues. I wanted everyone to think I was okay with my scars, that I didn't let them define who I was, but it wasn't always the case. I always wore long sleeves, keeping my robes on in the summer and never wearing anything that bared my midriff or my back.
"I am sufficiently mortified and seriously want to be anywhere but here," I admitted in a small voice while I avoided his eyes. "Sometimes my babbling is cute, but other times it's the worst thing about me. Well, one of the worst things anyway."
I was still avoiding his gaze when he took my face in his hands, tilting it up until I had nowhere else to look. "Scars are a part of life, Lydia. They don't make us who we are, they remind us of what we've been through. I don't have a bloody ear! You think that's not something I worry about all the time, you think it's not the first thing people see when they look at me? Well, that or the fact that my twin brother is dead. I know all about people only seeing you for your worst moments, but I'm not that person. I swear."
His thumb stroked over my cheekbone absentmindedly as he held my eyes with his. I didn't really have many friends, especially ones I could relate to on this level, so this was an experience for me. He knew exactly what I was talking about, how people only remembered you for the worst day of your life. I wasn't Lydia Duke, excellent finder with the big eyes anymore, I was now Lydia Duke, survivor of the Great War with an entire left side full of scars.
"If it helps, I didn't even notice your ear until you pointed it out," I told him in a small voice.
He shook his head and reached up to his ear, fiddling with it before bringing it back down and opening his palm. Resting inside it was something the same color as his skin and rounded, kind of like a muggle hearing aid.
"This is a prosthetic, I wear it so people don't stare any more than usual. It's also why I keep my hair longer now," he explained, his other hand still holding my face.
"I never wear short sleeves or anything that shows the skin of my torso," I told him, figuring I'd give him a secret in return for his. "I'd show you, but I'm not quite as brave as you, Gryffindor."
He grinned before moving his hand away from my face, sliding it back down to hold mine. "I was told there was something you wanted to show me. Is that still on the table or did I scare you off?"
"I don't know if it's something you've seen before, but it's something you definitely need to," I told him, turning left and heading down an empty corridor. "It's right down here."
Through the castle there were a portraits of all the people who died in the War and one big one of every included. There were also picture of the original Order of the Phoenix and of Dumbledore's Army hanging in the Great Hall. It was nice to know we were being recognized, I just tried to look at them as little as possible for obvious reasons. There was something eerie about seeing people who were dead existing in that little bit of time.
"A couple first years were talking about a portrait that kept pranking them and I knew it had to be Fred," I told him, stopping in front of the frame. "He does a couple tricks and I'm pretty sure it's most of the students' favorite place in the castle."
He dropped my hand and stepped forward, pressing his fingers to the canvas as Fred's lips tilted up into a mischievous grin. I didn't know what to say so I just watched, his eyes were bright and his smile was blinding. I hadn't really thought about it, but this might've been the first time he'd seen his twin without looking in a mirror.
"What pranks does he do?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"He and Peeves work together a lot, but Fred seems to be able to reign him in most of the time," I replied, stepping forward and placing a hand between George's shoulder blades. "There's a levitation jinx and a spot on the floor that sinks, and I'm pretty sure there's one that makes people's hair stand on end."
"That's the best thing I've ever heard," he said without looking away from the canvas. "I know it's just enchanted and he's not really there, but this is the closest I've felt to him in years. Thank you, Lydia."
We made it back to my classroom a little while later and started working on the placement of the globes. We did a couple run-throughs to make sure everything was perfect, a grin finding its way onto my face when the entire room was engulfed in a snowstorm.
"This is perfect!" I exclaimed, turning in circles in the middle of the classroom. "Thank you so much! Everyone's going to love it!"
He made his way over to stand in front of me after he stopped the snow. "You're beautiful, so beautiful."
My face heated up and I shook my head. "No, I'm not. I'm too plain."
He shook his head, "There's nothing plain about you, Lydia Duke. Not one single thing."
His hand came up to cup my jaw and he stroked my face with his thumb. I sensed him leaning in to me and I stood up on my tiptoes, maneuvering myself so he could kiss me easier. We were so close I could feel his breath on my skin when I heard the bell in the hall ring, signaling class change.
"Can we pick this up a little later? My class is about to start coming in and this would be pretty hard to explain," I breathed, making no move to step back. "But I definitely want to pick this back up."
He nodded and kissed my forehead before going over to my desk. I forgot the way it felt when someone kissed me there, it was kind of the best thing ever. I was still smiling when the kids started filtering into the classrooms. I saw at least ten uniform violations but didn't write them up. It was the last day before break, they could be a little sloppy.
"No way, Professor D! That's George Weasley!" Grey Harrison shouted from his spot beside Flint Yarbo. "Why is he here?"
"Is he your boyfriend?" Maggie Jenkins asked, finding her seat as well.
I rolled my eyes and said, "Sit down and pull out your parchments. You've had the entire term to write them even though I suspect a lot of you wrote yours last night. You have the period to do finishing touches and talk amongst yourselves about what you learned through the project."
"So, he's not your boyfriend, then?" Maggie asked, making me blush and give her the side eye.
She laughed before turning to talk to her table mate. "Place your finished parchments on my desk, please!"
Everyone made various noises of agreement before going back to doing their own things. I made my way back to my desk and sat beside George, not quite sure how to act around him after our almost kiss earlier.
"So, do you want to come over to my flat tonight?" he asked quietly, looking over at me with shy eyes. When he realized what he'd said, he immediately started backtracking, "For dinner, of course! I don't have any ulterior motives or anything, I've just been told I'm an alright cook."
I smiled and put my hand on top of his on the desk to calm his nerves. "That sounds lovely. I would love to have dinner with you tonight, especially if this prank goes as planned."
Eventually, all the parchments were turned in and the classroom was abuzz with excited chatter about the holiday. I winked at George before barely lifting my wand and making a light snowstorm start in the classroom. All the kids looked around in confusion, trying to find the source of the snow but to no avail. I watched George move his wand and made the snow come down even harder. I did the final tap and a full on blizzard was happening in the classroom.
"Professor Duke! What's happening?" McKesha Weller shouted, swirling around in the snowflakes with the other students.
"How is it snowing indoors?"
"Is this why George Weasley is here? Are you pranking us, Professor D?"
"Guilty!" I shouted back, hopping up from the desk and scooping up some snow for a snowball. "I'm also guilty of throwing the first snowball!"
A full on snow war started after that and shrieks of happiness rang through the room. I saw George throwing snow at the class as well and knew this was going perfectly. By the time the bell rang, we were all disheveled and breathing heavily.
"Have a wonderful holiday!" I told them, waving as they exited the classroom with excited shrieks. "I'll see you next term!"
By the time my three classes were over, I was exhausted in the very best way. Surprisingly, George stayed with me the entire time and had as much fun as I did. I perched on the edge of my desk beside George after my last class left. I didn't realize my sweater had slipped off my shoulder until I felt George sliding it back into place with his eyes holding mine.
I learned a lot from that small movement. He didn't look at my scars because he knew I was uncomfortable about them. Instead, he pulled my sweater back up to keep them hidden from his sight. Without thinking, I reached up and brushed his hair over his ear to keep it hidden.
"You don't have to hide from me," he told me, his hand catching mine as it dropped from his hair. "I'm tired of hiding from everyone, I want to be open with someone."
"You can always be open with me, but I'm working on being the same with you," I told him honestly. "Wait for me?"
"Of course," he said, kissing my fingertips delicately.
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