I can't help myself. This chapter has me squealing so much that I'm going to update early and just give you another two days in a row. We have a few funerals this weekend, and I'll be out of town camping starting Thursday, so we'll count this as next week's update because I won't have a ton of time to write anyway.
Chapter Twenty Six
By the time Nessa got up to the dormitory, still fuming about an irritating Ron Weasley and his prat brothers, — though neither of the twins had done anything, she found their relation to Ron rather annoying at the moment — Tori was already in bed. It was odd that she would be sleeping already — they didn't have classes anymore and Tori wasn't typically prone to going to bed early. When she'd said she was going to bed, Nessa had merely assumed that she was just attempting to get away from Fred and Ron in an attempt to control her temper.
Another odd thing because Tori never attempted to control her temper. Although Nessa supposed that she couldn't just have an outright row in the common room with Fred about his choice in companion to the Yule Ball when she was refusing to tell anyone that she and Fred were…whatever they were.
The complications of the entire thing made her head hurt at this point; she couldn't imagine how it must feel for the two of them.
"Tori?" she said hesitantly, watching her carefully for any sign that she was awake. Her back was to her, sleeping on her side facing the window, but there was something very odd about the way she was breathing that told her she wasn't really sleeping. When Tori didn't say anything, she sighed and threw her bag on her own bed, turning back to face her with hands on her hips. It had been a week since they'd snapped at each other in the entrance hall, and though they weren't avoiding each other entirely, they certainly weren't on the best of terms. It was annoying her now. "Tori, can you quit ignoring me? I know you aren't sleeping."
There was a heavy sigh from Tori, followed by a muffled, "Go away, Nessa. I don't want to do this right now."
Tori had never told her to go away in their entire friendship, and, though she knew the words weren't intended to be hurtful, they still tugged at her heart. She didn't fixate on the fact though because Tori's voice was oddly thick, and it made her straighten in surprise.
"Are you crying?"
"No."
Nessa did not believe her, and she debated heavily whether or not she should push the issue when Tori was already sore with her, but it didn't take her long to come to a decision. Grabbing the pillow from her bed, and pausing briefly to scratch Archie as he rolled toward her, she made her way over to Tori's bed, and threw the covers back.
Tori glared at her.
"Nessa, you are not getting in this bed —"
"Try and stop me," she snapped, shoving her best friend over in irritation and resituating their pillows so that they could lay right next to her.
"Ow! Watch where you're putting your foot!" Tori said, glaring at her when her foot kicked her hard in the shin when she shoved her way into the bed and under the blankets.
"Well, if you'd just have moved over, it wouldn't have been so difficult," Nessa huffed with an eye roll, turning as best she could so that she could face her best friend. Tori's irritation at having her in her bed was not enough to mask the wetness on her cheeks or the sorrow in her eyes. Nessa's tone softened. "What's the matter?"
"Can't we just talk about something else?" Tori hedged. "Like how much of a prat Ron is."
Nessa rolled her eyes.
"No, I don't want to think about him right now," she said, her earlier irritation flaring again at his name. Tori raised an eyebrow. "After you left, he told us that George didn't have to ask me to the ball because we're dating and I have to go with him."
Tori snorted.
"You see why he's never snogged anyone, don't you?"
"Yes, that's very clear to all of us. What's wrong?"
Tori huffed, giving her a long suffering look.
"I don't want to talk about it," she said firmly. "It doesn't matter. It's my own fault anyway, and that's what you're going to tell me, so let's just skip past that and —"
"You have no idea what I would say," Nessa scoffed. "You don't know me that well. And I already know what this is about, you know. I'm trying to give you the opportunity here to explain what is happening."
There was a long moment of silence where Tori stared at Nessa and Nessa stared back, both of them appearing stubborn and unwilling to back down from their stance on the conversation. It was Tori who broke, her eyes shining with defeat and the sadness coloring her features again. She took in a shaky breath.
"It is my fault," she said quietly. "I'm being stupid."
"This is about Fred and Angelina, isn't it?"
Tori snorted derisively.
"Don't say it like they're a couple," she said in irritation. "It's just a date, isn't it? I mean, it could go poorly."
Nessa hesitated and gave her a cautious look.
"Do you think it will?"
Tori's irritation faded, and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling.
"No," she said weakly. "I don't. They — they have a lot in common, don't they? And she's much easier to deal with than I am. I don't think I've ever seen them argue."
Nessa had no idea what that had to do with anything, but she didn't push for the specifics. Tori was managing to withhold her tears, and she was certain it was only because she was looking at her. She didn't particularly have a desire to see a reappearance.
"Why don't you just tell him that you want to go with him, Tori?" she said. When Tori opened her mouth to give her some sort of response that she assumed was going to be an outright denial, she rolled her eyes and gave her a hard look. "You're crying over him — can we skip the part where you try to deny that you have feelings for him? There's no one else even in here."
Tori snorted, and looked down at her hand between them which was toying with the edge of her pillowcase idly. It was a long moment before she spoke again — so long that Nessa was considering beating the truth out of her best friend entirely.
"I already told him that we needed to…to stop whatever this is between us."
Nessa reared back in surprise.
"What? When? Why?"
Tori rolled her eyes at her.
"Because you told me I couldn't have it both ways," she said as if this were obvious. "And, you know, as much as I'd like to tell you that you were being a real —"
"I'd like to remind you that I'm in this bed even though you've pissed me off," Nessa interrupted pointedly with an eye roll. Even if she did find the comment amusing somehow. Tori snorted.
"Well, you weren't exactly wrong, were you?"
No, she hadn't been, but that wasn't her point in bringing it up. She'd hoped that Tori would make the right decision in terms of her relationship with Fred, not do something that would simply hurt the both of them even more.
"Tori, you weren't supposed to make yourself miserable," she said gently. "You were supposed to take the leap, not tell him that you wanted to be friends —"
"It's easier if we're just friends —"
Nessa huffed in irritation.
"It isn't about doing what's easy, Tori," she said in a hard voice. "Nothing about a relationship is easy. There's always going to be something you have to work through — that's sort of the point. You keep doing this — pushing him away instead of accepting that you want something more, and it's making you miserable. Do you really want to watch him with someone else?"
"This wasn't how this was supposed to be, Nessa!" Tori exclaimed, sounding like she was being pulled in two separate directions. "I don't know how to deal with us being something more than best friends! Not in front of other people! Ron acts like the mere idea of us together is disgusting —"
"Ron's an idiot, we just talked about this."
" — and George has to know what's happening. I mean, he's not an idiot. He just doesn't want to accept it. And Molly never will. I can't be the sort of person who comes between all of them, Nessa, I can't!"
"You'd rather break Fred's heart instead?" she said, trying to keep her voice as gentle as she was able.
Tori winced, her eyes filling with tears.
"Don't — don't say that," she said roughly. "He's — he'll be okay. It's not like I'm going anywhere."
It was like talking to a wall. The delusion was so strong that she wasn't even sure Tori realized she was in one.
"Right," she said slowly. "So the two of you will just watch each other date other people, and pretend like it's nothing. Ten years from now, you'll be hugging him at his wedding to someone else or holding his baby that's not yours. You're going to watch him go on dates with other people and listen to him talk about them with all of us over breakfast. C'mon, Tori, this is ridiculous. You know you can't handle that."
"That's 26 year old Tori's problem," Tori said, sounding exhausted.
Nessa made a frustrated noise.
"Tori, do you want to know what your problem is?"
"Not particularly."
"Your problem is that you're always waiting for the other shoe to drop," Nessa said, ignoring her completely. "You're always waiting for everyone to leave you. Nevermind the fact that Fred and George have been your best friends since you were four. Or that I've never once left your side in the last four years. Or that the Weasleys have sacrificed and raised you like you were their own. Starting a relationship with Fred isn't going to erase all of those things. I'm not going anywhere, neither is Fred, and I'm sorry that you've had to lie to George and I'm sure he's going to be upset about that, but it's George. When have you ever known him to be so upset with Fred that they cut each other out? I watched them almost come to blows last year — over me, by the way — and make up hours later like nothing had even happened."
"Yes, but, it's —"
"Tori, I love you, I really do," she said, lacing their fingers together. "And I'll support you no matter what decision you make, but I want you to hear what I'm saying, okay? The only person who's making this difficult is you."
"Why aren't you telling Fred that he's being a prat for trying to make me jealous?" she said indignantly.
"I'm dealing with him later," Nessa said with an eye roll. "You're both very immature about this —"
"You used to flirt with Fred in front of George when he was dating Alicia."
The words were said very pointedly, and Nessa had no argument for that. She had done that. Also very immaturely. It was no wonder Rita Skeeter thought her a cheater.
"Yes, well, as far as I'm concerned that makes me more qualified to tell you this is ridiculous," she said dismissively.
"Why? It worked out for you," Tori smirked.
Nessa snorted, and smacked her on the shoulder.
"Will you quit trying to change the subject?" she said in annoyance. "I'll talk to Fred later. We're talking about you right now. You're making this more difficult than it needs to be. No one is going to cut you out just because you're in lo — dating Fred Weasley."
It was a true testament to Tori's current emotional upheaval that she didn't pick up on her near word slip. Talking about dating him was one thing, but if she said anything about her suspicion that Tori was in love with Fred, she was sure there'd be no way to pull her out of her spiral.
"You don't know that," Tori said stubbornly.
"I do," Nessa said with an eye roll. "You're not giving people enough credit here. The Weasleys took you in when they didn't have to, Tori. Just because they fell in love with you as a baby when you came to visit. They aren't going to turn their back on you just because they're worried that you and Fred are going to start sneaking around to snog. Or shag, knowing the two of you —"
"There has been no shagging," Tori said immediately, pointing a finger at her to emphasize this point. "It's been very innocent."
Nessa gave her a disbelieving look.
"Very innocent. Do you really expect me to believe that?"
Tori grimaced.
"No," she said, causing Nessa to laugh. "But there hasn't been any shagging, alright? He's just…well, he's a good kisser and it's a tad distracting sometimes."
Nessa grinned widely. She'd not yet heard anything about Fred Weasley in Tori's usual context of talking about the men she spent time with, but she was all too familiar with being distracted by that sort of thing. It made her feel a bit better that she couldn't think properly when George kissed her if Tori was having similar issues.
"He's a good kisser, is he?"
"Don't start," Tori snorted. "I've seen the way you swoon over George —"
"I do not swoon!"
"You absolutely do!" Tori laughed. "It's disgusting to watch."
"You know, when I catch you and Fred snogging, I'm going to make a very big deal about it," Nessa said petulantly.
"You can come watch if you want," Tori said, smirking.
Nessa scoffed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.
"Don't be disgusting," she said. "Besides, I hardly think either one of you needs encouragement. You already have trouble fitting your fat heads through the doors."
"My fat head?" Tori exclaimed. "Surely you just mean his —"
"Tori, you've been strutting around this school thinking your're hot shite —"
"Because I am," Tori scoffed. "What's wrong with confidence anyway?"
"Nothing's wrong with it, Tori, but I hardly think you should be saying he has a fat head when yours is obviously just as large," Nessa said. "Do the two of you brag to each other about your snogging prowess afterward?"
"Hardly," Tori snorted. "If I can't handle him going to the ball with Angelina, he certainly wouldn't be breathing if he was bragging to me about snogging someone else. If he's not obsessed with me, what's the point?"
Nessa snorted.
"You have sincere issues, Tori," she said blandly. "Though I think he's made it very clear that he's obsessed with you. Otherwise I don't know what he's staring at you all the time for."
Tori's face widened into a smirk, but she said nothing, instead continuing to toy with the edge of her pillow case. Nessa could tell the moment the doubts sprang back into her head because the smirk fell just as quickly as it had appeared.
She didn't push anything. She'd said enough and Tori was the only one at this point who could convince herself to quit being so against the relationship. At this point, it felt more like she was just repeating the same thing over and over again in an attempt to get her best friend to finally see the light.
"Do you think he'll kiss her?"
Nessa cleared her throat awkwardly. It hadn't been the question she'd expected at all, and she'd have liked to say that of course he wouldn't, but it was — well, it was Fred, for one thing. And she wasn't entirely certain that he wasn't stupid enough to think that that would just distract him from all of his problems. Or make Tori jealous enough that she'd change her mind.
Truly, she didn't understand his thought processes enough to answer that question.
"I don't know," she said truthfully. Tori winced as if she'd been hoping for an entirely different answer. "You could spare yourself the concern and just tell him —"
"Nice try," Tori scoffed. Nessa huffed at her. "And, uh, since we're already having a very awkward and emotional conversation — I'm sorry that I was being so…"
"Ridiculous?" Nessa offered, grinning at the noise Tori made in the back of her throat. "Childish? Immature? Petty?"
"Alright, you can stop now," Tori snorted indelicately. "I get the point." Nessa laughed, and readjusted to get comfortable. Tori raised an eyebrow. "You know, I think I can manage to sleep by myself now."
"Yeah, but then I have to walk all the way over to my bed —"
"It's two feet from here!"
" — and I'm already comfortable where I'm at," Nessa finished as if she hadn't said anything.
Tori rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, but there was the sound of their dormmates making their way into the room for the evening, and she merely huffed.
"Fine," she hissed. "But don't gripe at me when I steal the blankets again."
The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, Nessa noticed that they were the most stunning she had ever seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banister of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armor had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was very odd to hear "O Come, All Ye Faithful" sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch had to extract Peeves from inside the armor, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.
Nessa found his version far more amusing, but she wasn't about to tell anyone that. The twins and Tori were already passing Peeves slips of paper with their versions of the lyrics to "inspire" him for his next rendition. If Nessa told them she thought it was funny, she was sure they'd be working much harder to help Peeves.
So she pretended to ignore it instead, and she did so again when they were leaving breakfast and Tori passed the poltergeist a slip of paper. Peeves cackled delightfully, bobbing away down to the dungeons to irritate Professor Snape.
"I'm surprised you haven't told us off for helping him," Tori said as they climbed the staircase to head back to the common room. "Isn't this against your prefect nature? We could be corrupting the youth of tomorrow."
Nessa snorted.
"You've already been doing that, Tori. I just sort of pretend that I don't notice. It's called picking your battles."
Not to mention, Fred and George hadn't been at breakfast this morning, so she had no doubt that whatever they were doing was absolutely corrupting the children. And until she knew exactly what that was, she wasn't about to scold Tori about Peeves. Peeves would do whatever he wanted anyway whether Tori gave him ideas or not. She had to save up her irritation for the twins whenever she found out what they were doing.
Because the Weasley twins did not, under any circumstances, miss a meal. It was the only time that Tori and Fred were even around each other these days, and Nessa was entirely certain that it was because George was making them. They'd avoided each other otherwise, and Nessa did not have any hope that it would improve until after the Yule Ball had passed in a week. If that. There was no telling what would happen if Fred continued his current trajectory.
And she was certain he knew that Nessa had no patience for it because he'd been avoiding her too.
The men in her life were just so unbelievably —
"Er — Nessa?"
She startled at the sound of a very timid voice from in front of her. She only barely managed to stop before she ran into Natalie. The younger Gryffindor looked nervous, though she typically did whenever she talked to her — she suspected, or hoped, that this was merely because she was older and not because she was afraid of her.
"Natalie?" she said kindly. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing, it's just —" Natalie came forward and held out an Oriental Lily. She stared at it in surprise — they were her favorite flowers, but she'd no idea how Natalie could have known that. Or why she'd be giving her one. "I was told to give you this."
"By who?" Nessa said, bewildered.
Natalie giggled, her entire face going red.
"He said not to tell you. It's supposed to be a surprise."
Tori was smirking widely beside her as Nessa reached out hesitantly for the flower. It was white with vibrant orange down the middle of its petals and was speckled with dark pink.
"Uh, thank you?" she said uncertainly.
"Right, and he told me to tell you — er — wait, let me remember," Natalie said, biting her lip and looking off into the distance. "Get ready for an adventure that can't be beat. Go to the place where you like to go for a treat."
Nessa gaped at her and then turned to look incredulously at Tori, who was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Natalie, did George —"
"I have to go, sorry! Good luck!"
Nessa watched Natalie scurry off, and she was sure that the younger girl had had nothing at all to get to, but had promised George not to say anything. And she was entirely sure that this was George's doing because she knew no one else who would gift her a flower and a very odd riddle. Although for what purpose, she had no idea.
"Is he talking about the kitchens?" Nessa said, turning to Tori.
"Or maybe Hogsmeade," Tori said unhelpfully. "You do inhale those Exploding Bon Bons —"
"I do not inhale them!" Nessa said indignantly. "What exactly is he doing?"
Tori shrugged, grinning widely.
"Not my business," she said, skipping away. "Good luck on your disgustingly romantic adventure!"
Nessa rolled her eyes.
What on Earth was George Weasley up to now?
A place where she liked to go for a treat…that really didn't narrow anything down, did it? She liked food. That was not a secret to anyone, and she was friends with the twins, so she went to the kitchens (and Hogsmeade as Tori had so kindly pointed out) on a number of occasions for snacks.
Would he send her to Hogsmeade? Probably. But she went to the kitchens more, and it was closer. She'd start there. In the meantime, perhaps she'd run into George and ask him what exactly he was up to.
By the time she reached the kitchens, she couldn't help her overwhelming curiosity. She had a sneaking suspicion of what was happening, but it seemed like a lot of trouble to go to over a simple question. Though she supposed, George Weasley was among the people who was more interested in the path than the destination. She reached up to tickle the pear, waited for the giggle, and then twisted the doorknob that appeared.
"Miss Vanessa!"
She nearly went careening backwards at the elf that came flying in her direction, wrapping its arms around her leg. She caught herself on the doorframe, and ignored the horrified grumbling of the other house-elves to gape at the one at her feet.
"I — Dobby?" she said, bewildered.
"Oh, yes, Miss Vanessa, oh yes," he said excitedly, pulling away to grin up at her toothily. He was wearing horribly mismatched clothing, but he looked particularly happy. He was glowing. "Dobby works in the kitchens, Miss Vanessa. Dumbledore gives me one day off a month and pays me, he does!"
Nessa smiled down at him.
"That's fantastic, Dobby! I'm happy for you!"
"Thank you, Miss Vanessa, thank you! Oh!" he turned and hurried back to where he'd been standing, clearly lying in wait for her appearance, and grabbed the items he'd been tasked to give her. One of them was another of the white and orange lilies. The other was a strawberry cupcake. She straightened excitedly at the sight of it. "Here you is! I was told to give you this! Your Weasley is waiting!"
She took the gifts with a quick thank you, and allowed him to shoo her out of the kitchen. She was certain that Dobby's excitement had simply given away what George had intended to be a surprise, but she was too distracted by the cupcake (and the fact that Dobby had called George her Weasley) to take much notice.
She wasn't exactly sure what she was supposed to do now, standing outside the kitchens with two flowers and a cupcake, so she chose to eat the cupcake while she tried to figure out what exactly it was that she was supposed to be doing.
Had something in Dobby's words been a clue she hadn't realized? He'd gotten rid of her quite quickly, despite how excited he'd seemed to see her. Maybe that was the clue? Her Weasley was waiting for her, he'd said. Waiting for her where? What was George up to?
She nearly choked when she took another bite of her cupcake and something in the center crinkled loudly.
"What the hell?" she said, pulling it away from her mouth to eye it in alarm. She rolled her eyes immediately. "Honestly, what was he thinking? I could have choked to death."
For in the center of the cupcake, there was a slip of parchment that could only have gotten there if he'd used magic. Or had Dobby use magic. She tried tugging it out, but it made a ripping noise that she didn't like. Not that she'd needed an excuse to eat the entire cupcake, but this certainly seemed a better one than just because the cupcake itself tasted like heaven.
She had to scourgify the paper several times before she could read it, but she raised an eyebrow at the words in front of her:
Great job, love, that was a piece of cake! Now go to our favorite spot by the lake.
She couldn't help the smile on her face or the giddiness in her stomach. It was ridiculous, really, a scavenger hunt that was just going to lead her around the castle, looking like a loon. But there was something so very sweet about the amount of effort he'd put into the entire thing. And even if she did end up looking a fool, she'd gotten two flowers and a strawberry cupcake that she'd gotten to eat in peace this time. Ever since she'd gotten slightly tipsy and started talking about her love of the confection, George had been teasing her incessantly about them, though she didn't quite blame him.
She hesitated before the doors of the castle — she hadn't brought a cloak — but she could just make a run for it, couldn't she? Otherwise she'd have to go all the way back upstairs and then back down and who knew how many other random stops he had planned before she got to wherever he planned to meet her.
Even making a run for it, she had to stifle a swear at the cold air that immediately buffeted her as she made a run for the willow tree next to the lake, grabbed her flower and clue, and ran back to the entrance hall.
I thought about having you take a swim in the lake, but instead let's go to the place where you go to escape.
She snorted, and rolled her eyes. If he'd tried to get her to take a swim in the lake in the middle of December, she'd have just gone and hunted him down and told him to tell her what exactly he wanted from her. She had no intention of being frozen to death on whatever adventure he thought they were having. And she so despised the cold.
Where she went to escape…
Interesting clue. There were three places she went to escape the problems in her life, and he hadn't exactly given her a way to narrow it down.
She supposed she could take the Potions classroom out of the running; Snape wouldn't be caught dead helping George Weasley woo her with a scavenger hunt and flowers. So that left the library and the Astronomy Tower. Both viable options…
The library was closer, so she'd started there. It was a huge mistake on her part. For one thing, it was massive and there were a lot of places that George could have hidden a flower and a slip of parchment. It made things particularly difficult, and she had to hide every time Madam Pince had come looking for whoever was making a great deal of noise in the back of the library.
She'd assumed if George had left anything here it would be at the table in the very back where he'd come to coax her out of the library after she'd lost her temper with him and Fred on the Quidditch pitch and had been worried that he'd stopped talking to her. It had also been the table that he'd caught her reading that horrible book about Voldemort, and had comforted her and convinced her to go and watch them play Quidditch for a few hours.
It had been in neither place, and she left the library grumbling about how much time she'd wasted looking in every crook and crevice of that library while she made her way to the Astronomy Tower instead.
She sighed in relief when she saw the slip of paper sitting next to the suit of armor that stood next to the door. There was no flower this time, but the clue made it clear why.
You've tracked me this far — man, you're good! To find the next clue, search under the hood!
She snorted, rolling her eyes, and eyeing the suit of armor in interest.
"What is the point of —"
"Hey! Do you mind?" Nessa screamed in surprise immediately when she stuck her hand into the suit of armor and it immediately began reprimanding her. She stumbled backward in surprise. "Have you no shame? I don't shove my hands under your tunic without permission, do I?"
She gaped at it for a long moment as it went silent again. Had he charmed it to scold her?
"I'm going to kill him," she muttered to herself, eyeing the suit of armor cautiously before deciding the faster she did this, the faster she could get out of there. She rushed forward, placed her hand in, and rustled around until she found it — trying (and failing) to ignore the "My word! At least take me on a date first!" — and stumbled back, grumbling about how much she wanted to slap George Weasley upside his head.
Now, love, it's unbelievable: You've left this suit of armor in a right state! I'll make it up to you by waiting for you in the place we had our first date.
With a mumbled apology to the suit of armor she'd just accosted, and a still red face, she rushed her way down the spiral staircase to the seventh floor, half grinning and half grumbling at George's ridiculousness.
There was only one place it could have been — they'd only had the one date anyway, on her birthday, and it had been so long ago at this point. Between the tournament and her O.W.L.s and his working on selling products to get premises for the shop, there wasn't much time for them to have done anything more. The reminder of that night was making her stomach erupt in butterflies. George Weasley was a great many things, but he had such an uncanny ability to be thoughtful, and it made her swoon.
Even if she'd told Tori weeks ago that it didn't. She didn't have to know.
The entrance hall was empty, and she was careful when she slid into the Great Hall, shutting the doors behind her. She didn't exactly know if it was against the rules to be in the Great Hall between meal times, but she didn't particularly want to find out when she was trying to figure out why she had six flowers in her hand — she'd been rewarded for accosting the suit of armor with two flowers instead of one. As far as she was concerned, she was still going to kill her boyfriend for that particular incident, two flowers or no.
When she took a look around the Great Hall, it was empty, the tables pushed up against the walls as they normally were when no one was eating, and the smell of lemons permeating the room from whatever cleaner the house-elves used. The ceiling was a pleasant blue color, quite unlike the typical gray skies she was used to seeing this time of year, and it was bright, quite unlike the last time she'd snuck in here with George.
But she didn't see George anywhere at all.
"George," she whispered loudly, taking a few steps toward the middle of the room. "George, if you've made me come here in for some sort of joke like that stupid suit of armor, I am going to —"
"What are you whispering for? There's no one in here."
She had to smother the scream before it came out, whirling around to face the amused voice that had spoken behind her. And there he was, leaning up against the wall with a foot resting against it, a wide grin stretching across his face. He'd been hidden by one of the pillars next to the door, hidden from her view when she'd entered.
"George Fabian Weasley —"
"Oh, the middle name," he said cockily. "I'm in trouble this time, aren't I?"
She pretended like she didn't notice the suggestive tone he'd used, and narrowed her eyes on him.
"You gave me a fright!" she whispered harshly. "And I still haven't forgiven you for making me — me — for making me assault that suit of armor —"
"Gerard."
"I — what?" she said, bewildered.
"His name is Gerard. He gets lonely up there all alone. No one talks to him apparently."
She stared at him blankly for a long moment, trying to weigh in her head whether he was being serious or not. It was hard to tell when he was grinning at her like that and his eyes were sparkling so mischievously.
"I don't know what to say to that," she said honestly.
He chuckled at her and pushed himself off the wall to walk toward her. She raised an eyebrow at him when he came to stop in front of her — was he taller or had she just shrunk? Or maybe it had just been awhile since she'd stood so close to him, and she'd forgotten how much taller than her he was.
"I gave you two flowers, didn't I?" he said with a grin.
"He told me to take him on a date first," she deadpanned in an attempt to explain how two flowers was not at all a sufficient apology. She jumped a little when he started laughing uproariously. "George, you're going to get us caught."
He didn't seem to hear her at first, his laughter having overtaken him so much that he wasn't able to respond. He wiped away a tear when he'd finished and straightened.
"He's got a sense of humor, Gerard," he said fondly. She rolled her eyes at him. "And you don't have to worry about being caught, love. The teachers are all trying to figure out why all of the bathrooms are flooding."
She gave him an odd look, wondering how he could possibly know that unless he was the reason they were flooding, but she decided she didn't want to know.
"What have you had me running about this castle for?" she said instead. "And how did you know these were my favorite flowers?"
He grinned at her, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.
"I saw you eyeing the ones Dad got Mum over summer," he said casually. "I wasn't totally certain, but I took a guess —"
It was said so casually, almost dismissively, that it took her by surprise. He'd always been good with people, there was no doubt about that. He'd always had an uncanny ability to read others, and it was part of what made him so successful with joke products and was the reason he was so good at selling them to others. She'd always found it fascinating, but having him do the same thing with her — and with such a casual disregard for how heartwarming it was that he'd pay that much attention to the things she liked — it made her entire body freeze up.
Something about the fact that he'd noticed something like that over something so simple, just something she'd done in passing, made every thought in her head completely derail. It made her heart swell, and her stomach flutter. It made everything in her body go haywire, as if he'd broken her completely somehow and it had forgotten how to function. It made every ounce of her self-control fly out the window, and she flung herself at him, knocking him several steps backward, and wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Blimey, Vanessa, give a bloke some —"
He was silenced by her lips meeting his, and he didn't at all care what he'd been about to say or what about what he'd said had been worth this sort of response. He wasn't complaining, though he'd not quite gotten to ask her what he'd intended to ask her to begin with, so he'd have to come back to that.
Because at the moment he couldn't quite bring himself to pull away from her enough to ask her. Not when she was working so hard to pull herself up to his height in order to kiss him more firmly, and the smell of her was clouding his head and making it hard for him to remember what the hell he'd brought her in here for to begin with.
He responded quickly, stepping backward until his back hit the wall he'd been leaning against moments before and forcing her to come with him. She gasped loudly when he rested his hands on each side of her waist and spun her until she was sandwiched between him and the wall instead. He took advantage of the sound and deepened the kiss, and smirked when she melted into him. She was soft against him, her hands curling around the collar of his shirt and pulling him until there was no space left between them.
"You taste like cupcake," he breathed, pulling away briefly to brush his lips against the side of her jaw and down her neck.
Merlin, she smelled good.
She huffed a laugh. It had been the same thing she'd said to him a few weeks before, and for some reason it made her want to kiss him again, but he was very focused on planting kisses along her jaw. She released a shuddering breath when he placed a kiss over her throat, and she felt him grin against her.
"Don't be smug, George," she said, gasping in surprise and arching further in his direction when he nipped at her ear playfully.
"I'm not smug," he said, cupping her face and tilting her head back. He had a very smug look on his face, indeed, and she raised a very pointed eyebrow. "I'm just very happy right now. Immensely happy. Remarkably satisfied."
She snorted and made a disbelieving noise in the back of her throat, allowing him to tilt her face up to his and kiss her deeply again. This one was softer than the previous kiss. There was something reverent about it in both the way he was holding her and in the amount of feeling he was putting behind it and her hands tightened on her collar again, her stomach swooping out underneath her.
God, this man…
"I did have something I was supposed to ask you," he murmured, punctuating every other word with a lingering kiss.
She hummed contentedly, letting her mind go fuzzy with the feel of him. She'd suspected he'd have brought her in here for a purpose, but she was content at the moment. He was so unbelievably comforting and warm, and they'd gotten to spend so little time together of late. She didn't want him to pull away from her.
As if he sensed her thoughts, he groaned as if he were in pain somehow, leaning forward to capture her lips again before pulling back. He grinned at her charmingly, releasing her waist to put his hands on either side of her head, ignoring the spark that appeared in her eyes.
"I need you to focus, love," he said softly, brushing his nose against hers. She stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to kiss him again and he pulled back with a chuckle. "This is a very important question."
She huffed at him, and raised an eyebrow.
"Can you make it quick then?" she said pointedly. "Because I was enjoying myself, you know."
Damned if her snark didn't make him want to kiss her.
He managed to wrestle the urge — though only barely — and he took a step back from her, waving his wand over his hand and conjuring a small silver tin. He grinned at the curiosity that immediately overtook her features, distracting her completely. He said nothing, twisting the lid off the can, and holding it out to her with a flourish.
"Want one?"
She looked from the contents of the tin to his face back to the tin before she landed on his face with an incredulous expression. It was a work of a lifetime to keep his face straight as she rested her hands on her hips, careful not to crumple the flowers in her hand, and started tapping her foot with impatience.
"Let me get this straight," she said slowly, her tone laced with disbelief and impatience. "You planned a scavenger hunt to ask me if I wanted a raisin?"
"Yes," he said, grinning widely at her.
"You stopped kissing me," she said, sounding offended. "To ask me if I wanted a raisin?"
He bit his cheek to keep himself from laughing, and when he'd gotten himself under control, he said, "Well, all I have are these raisins, but what I really wanted was a date."
She looked at him for a long moment as if she didn't quite understand anything he was talking about, but her shoulders had relaxed, her foot had stopped tapping, and he could see the corners of her lips twitching.
"You wanted a date," she said, eyeing him fondly, losing the battle she was having with herself and grinning at him happily.
He took a step toward her, unable to keep his distance when she smiled at him like that. There was something so very carefree about that smile, so happy. It was slightly goofy, some of the giddiness she was feeling shining through.
"I did," he said, grinning down at her, and pulling her toward him again, wrapping his arms around her waist. She smiled up at him through her eyelashes. "It would be fantastically lucky if you gave me one."
She laughed softly, raising her arms to wrap them around his neck and pulling him down to kiss him on the nose. She was looking at him with the sort of fondness that made his chest swell. The hand that didn't hold the flowers he'd given her was combing through the hair at the back of his head, scratching at his scalp lightly in the way she knew he liked. The smell of her was distracting and calming and exciting all at once. The sound of her voice, her laugh, the look of her smile, it made his heart race and made his fingers itch to reach for her.
There was a sort of deep, warm feeling he got in his chest when he looked at her, a giddiness he felt at even the mere prospect of seeing her (even knowing he saw her every day). It made his heart cave in to see her cry, and he'd spent the last week tracking down the people who had called her rude, insensitive names due to Rita Skeeter's article and hexed them until they apologized. Several he'd put untested products in their drinks or candy boxes and watched in amusement as they puked up their guts and had to go see Madam Pomfrey. He didn't care, his feelings for her overshadowing any guilt or concern completely.
He'd never taken much stock in it until now, when she was looking up at him with that soft, fond expression on her face, but it was coming so very clear to him now, what he felt for her.
Merlin, he loved her…
He loved the way she laughed — loud and wild and carefree. He loved the way she looked at him, the way she leaned into him when he touched her. He loved seeing her smile at him, and the way it brightened his day to see her every morning. He loved the way she asked about their products or the shop, the way she so resolutely believed in him. He loved the way she cared for his siblings as if they were her own — singing Ginny to sleep after a nightmare or telling Fred off for comforting Ron in the worst way possible after he'd thought Scabbers had died. He loved the way she humored his father about every ridiculous question he'd thought up about butane lighters or policemen or doctors; loved the fondness she'd watched him with when he'd been trying to get the matches to work at the World Cup.
He loved the contradictions of her — soft spoken but only until it hurt the people she loved; calm when she provided comfort to her brother, but an anxious whirlwind the moment he left; a prefect who laughed at every one of their pranks and helped them swap out ingredients in Snape's stores or slipped him a joke candy just because he'd had the audacity to call her a goody two-shoes.
She was an enigma, and a very beautiful one, and he could spend hours trying to understand her, and still come nowhere close. She'd still manage to surprise him somehow, and he loved everything about that.
The realization should have taken him by surprise. He'd never loved a girl before — not like this, not in the sort of giddy, all-consuming way that he felt now — and it should have shocked him or scared him or concerned him maybe? But it didn't. Not at all. It was like he was floating, it was like liquid honey in his veins or the feeling he got when he sank into the couch in front of the fire. It was like eating his mum's warm chocolate chip cookies or pulling his Christmas sweater over his head. And it was somehow all of those things and also like the exhilaration he felt when they finally perfected a product or he hit a Bludger in the right direction and helped them score points that would win them the game.
It was all of those, and more, somehow so much different than anything he'd ever felt before. Putting into words, the way it felt to love her, felt impossible. There was no way to do it properly, but he loved it. He loved her.
"Ask me," she said, clearly unaware of his thoughts, so wrapped up in the sweetness of the moment that she didn't notice his sudden stillness.
He released a slow breath, moving one of his hands to brush her hair back from her eyes so that he could look at her directly. She had such beautiful eyes, and they were always so expressive. He could see the soft happiness twinkling in them now and it made him grin stupidly at her.
"Will you go to the ball with me, sweetheart?"
He could hear the adoration of his tone, and he was sure that she could too because her eyes softened, and she swallowed hard before she answered.
"I'd love to, George," she said, smiling up at him sweetly.
He had no idea how his face hadn't split directly in two from grinning so widely. It was a little ridiculous because he'd known she'd say yes, but he didn't care at all how ridiculous he must look because that giddy, warm feeling was bubbling up again.
He kissed her again, grinning when she laughed elatedly against him.
And because he really couldn't help himself, he said, "So you didn't want a raisin then?"
She snorted, rolling her eyes to the ceiling in a fond sort of way.
"Shut up and kiss me, George."
There was really no point in arguing with that, was there?
See, I had the whole thing planned out, right? And then it started to take a mind of its own toward the end. I enjoyed it too much regardless. George realizing he was in love with her wasn't supposed to happen yet — although it was supposed to happen very soon — but it just worked out the way that I liked.
Sometimes I'm as surprised about what happens with this story as you guys are, I swear. It just flows out of me sometimes.
I'll see you guys in a few weeks!
