RoonieTunes: Thank you so much for the birthday wishes! I appreciate you! Happy belated birthday to you as well! Enjoy!

Bookcozy: No worries — as an introvert myself, I totally understand getting off work and not having the energy to do anything else. I appreciate your reviews all the same. Also, your guessing does not annoy me at all! I get so excited when reviewers try to guess what will happen next. It makes it more fun for me to write, somehow. You just happen to be very, very good at it. Feel free to keep guessing all you want!

Gi-L-Ha: Thank you for the birthday wishes! I appreciate it so much! Enjoy this one!

Chapter Twenty Two

George woke a few hours later, feeling much warmer than he normally did, and his pillow smelled oddly...fruity? He wasn't entirely certain that he wasn't dreaming, except when he moved, his blanket made an odd, whiney noise. He'd almost convinced himself he was going mad, but then he remembered that Nessa had climbed into his bed earlier this morning.

Certainly explained why his arm had fallen asleep.

When he opened his eyes to look down at her, he nearly laughed before he remembered that she hadn't slept in days, and laughing would likely wake her up. But the near stifling warmth made sense now — she had wrapped every one of her limbs around him and was clinging to him like a monkey, as if even an ounce of space between them had been insulting to her. Despite his mild discomfort, there was something rather endearing about the whole thing, particularly because she'd been a bit mercurial of late, switching randomly between wanting to be near him and being near him but not being entirely present.

Not that he blamed her, of course. With the task coming closer, she'd become more and more anxious, trapped in her thoughts and staring off into the distance. He often had to repeat things he'd said to her because she'd gotten distracted by whatever anxious thought had come to mind. They'd taken to talking about what their options were to keep her distracted from the task, but it became harder and harder to do the closer the task came. From the moment she'd found out it was going to be dragons, she'd been tense and irritable.

She'd snapped at him several times the day before for things as small as knocking over a stack of books from one of the desks because "it was distracting Harry." Nevermind the fact that Harry had been the reason he'd knocked them over to begin with because he'd lost his patience and flung a curse at him by mistake. It had been an exercise in patience to remind himself over and over again that she wasn't actually irritated with him, and snapping back wouldn't have done any of them any favors. He wasn't even entirely sure that she noticed she was doing it.

Truthfully, this was the closest to peace that he'd seen her in at least a week. Her breathing was deep and even, the tension that normally lined her shoulders had disappeared, and he was fairly certain that this was the most she'd slept in two days at least. Maybe more. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, he suspected that it was much longer.

He could see exactly the spot on her lip where she'd been chewing anxiously as it had become red and swollen, and was more chapped than it typically was. Her nails were much shorter than usual because she'd been chewing on them as well. And even in sleep, she hadn't quite managed to get rid of the worry lines on her forehead.

But she was sleeping at least. He'd take it. She was much less irritable when she slept, and he'd sort of started to feel like his constant worrying was going to turn him into his mother. An horrifying thought, truly.

He reached out a hand, and smoothed the creases on her forehead with his thumb. She sighed sleepily and he didn't entirely manage to withhold his snort of amusement when her legs tightened around his. It was like sleeping with Devil's Snare, except he was fairly certain she didn't typically cling to him like this when they normally fell asleep together. It hadn't happened often, but he suspected he'd have remembered if he was worried she'd strangle him in her sleep.

Amusing as it was, however, he couldn't feel his arm still, and he was sweating now. He hesitated for a moment longer before he shifted slowly to the side, forcing her to shift with him, so that her head rested on his chest more than his arm.

"Shhh," he soothed when she started fussing at being moved, and he waited until she'd stopped moving and her breathing evened out again before he released a sigh of relief.

It didn't last long — his arm was regaining feeling rapidly, and it was nowhere close to comfortable. Somewhere between having fire ants crawl up his arm and being poked incessantly with something sharp. He gritted his teeth and distracted himself by looking around the room.

He was the only one left in the dorm, and he wasn't altogether surprised. Grabbing his watch from the bedside table, he realized it was eleven already — certainly not the time he usually slept until, but he'd been far too comfortable sleeping next to Nessa to be roused apparently.

Not having more than three classes made things far easier on him when he overslept.

Snapping his watch on his wrist carefully, he stretched to reach the note that had been left next to it. He recognized his twin's untidy, cramped scrawl immediately.

Distract her. There are cockroaches on stand-by if she's in that classroom before lunch.

P.S. How are you breathing still? I think she might be trying to strangle you.

He snorted and set the parchment back on his nightstand with a sigh.

Distract her.

Easier said than done these days, and lunch wouldn't end until one. He could hope she slept for the next two hours and spared him the concern, but he didn't think he'd last that long. For one thing, he had to go to the bathroom. For another, he really wasn't able to lay in one place for so long. It made him antsy and anxious.

Unless he could somehow manage to extricate himself from her grasp without waking her, he was certain that he'd have to fight her to some degree to stay away from the classroom. He sincerely hoped that she'd relax more about Harry being champion once she saw him get past his dragon. Her anxiety typically didn't bother him much — he tended to balance it out — but this was altogether different. He didn't quite think that she'd manage to survive if she kept this pace up.

This was exactly why he couldn't sit still for so long. He had a horrible tendency of thinking about everything that made him feel anxious or pessimistic if he was still too long. He preferred to be preoccupied in some manner — social gatherings, inventing products, playing pranks. He was not an individual who thrived in the slow or mundane.

There was still a moment's hesitation before he decided he had to try his luck at moving out from underneath her. He might have been able to preoccupy his mind for long enough, but his bladder was an altogether separate issue.

Moving a centimeter at a time in an attempt to keep her from waking up, it took him nearly five minutes before he managed to fully extricate herself. He stood stock still for several seconds as she huffed sleepily and immediately rolled onto her stomach. He blew out a breath of relief when she didn't wake up and decided it was probably safe to tiptoe to the bathroom.

He could only have been gone for less than five minutes, but he sighed heavily when he came back and she was sitting up on his bed and rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"What are you doing up?" he said in a long-suffering voice.

"Am I not allowed to be awa —" she paused in her grumpy mumbling the moment she looked up at him. She blinked several times before swallowing. "You're not wearing a shirt."

It took a great deal of effort on his part — a herculean amount of effort — not to laugh out loud at her assessment.

"Well spotted, love," he said as seriously as he could manage. It wasn't made any easier by the immediate narrowing of her eyes. "I wasn't wearing one when you climbed into bed with me last night either."

She spluttered indignantly, her entire face coloring red, and he couldn't help the smirk that blossomed on his face.

"Don't say it like that," she hissed at him, as if there were someone else in the room who might hear them. "I was just sleeping."

He chuckled under his breath and made his way back to his bed. She eyed him carefully the entire way back, and didn't relax until he grabbed a T-shirt from his trunk and pulled it over his head.

"Should I be offended that you look so happy to see me wearing a shirt?" he smirked, taking a seat back on his bed and leaning against the headboard. She shifted to give him more space and gave him an exasperated look.

"I'm not answering that —"

"Because you're too embarrassed to admit that you think I look sexy without one?"

"No," she said, flushing red again. It came out sounding more like a question, but he refrained from pointing it out. He was taking a considerable amount of enjoyment out of the situation, truthfully. "I just think that it's socially appropriate to wear a shirt —"

"Well, I've never been socially appropriate, so I suppose I should take it back off —"

He laughed when she grabbed onto his wrists to prevent him from pulling it over his head again. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"If I say I find it distracting when you don't wear a shirt, can we move on from this conversation?"

He pretended to think about the question for several seconds.

"I think I'd prefer that you admit I'm sexy, actually," he said. He liked watching her cheeks turn pink.

"Fine," she said, refusing to look at him entirely. "Can we —"

"Fine what?"

He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the long-suffering look she gave him. She huffed loudly when he raised an eyebrow at her and muttered something under her breath before she said, "I think you look very attractive without a shirt on, alright?"

He grinned at her proudly, and pulled her to sit straddling his lap. Her cheeks were already pink from being forced to admit she found him attractive, but she blushed to the roots of her hair at the action, although she didn't pull away. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck hesitantly.

"Thank you, love, that's very sweet," he said proudly. "You look particularly ravishing —"

She snorted.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "I've barely been sleeping. Fred said I look hideous —"

"Fred's a twat."

She made a noise of approval at the assessment and leaned forward to hide her face in his neck with a heavy sigh. She'd only managed five hours of sleep, and it hardly made her feel rested at all. Her body ached and she felt a little nauseous, and she was certain that it wasn't due to anxiety this time.

George rubbed a hand soothingly over her back and she sighed again. She could almost convince herself to fall asleep again right there, but she had so much to be doing. She needed to find Tori and figure out how things were going with Harry, and she had O.W.L.s she should probably be studying for, and she'd told Madame Pomfrey she'd brew some more Draught of Peace before their meeting on Wednesday because they were going through them like candy —

"Whatever it is you're thinking about, you can stop now," George said firmly.

He could feel her shoulders tensing slowly and he didn't really have to guess what she was thinking to know that it was likely about Harry. Or any of the other things she was stressing herself out about as of late. He was still trying to figure out a way to keep her from going looking for her brother when she inevitably brought it up —

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away from him in an attempt to keep herself from getting too comfortable when she had so many things to be doing. "I need to go check on Harry —"

Yep, here they were, right where he didn't want to be.

It was a true testament to how much he cared for her that he was going to tell her she couldn't go to the classroom yet, despite knowing she might hex him nine ways to Sunday. Or maybe it was a true testament to his irresponsibility — it was about the same, really.

"Sorry, no can do, love," he said casually.

He tried to maintain a casual smile when she pulled away to look at him with a glare. Yeah, she was definitely going to hex him.

"What?" she said dangerously.

"I'm under strict instruction not to let you near Harry until after lunch —"

"That's ridiculous," she scoffed.

"Not particularly," he said calmly, tightening his hands on her hips so she couldn't move away from him. "You haven't taken a break in weeks —"

"I have too much to do to take a break," she snapped indignantly. "The first task is tomorrow —"

He covered her mouth with a hand, and met her glare with a stern look of his own.

"You need to relax, Vanessa," he said in a tone that left no room for argument. "You're barely eating, you haven't slept in days, you don't even study for O.W.L.s —"

She rolled her eyes and pulled his hand away from her mouth.

"You don't care about O.W.L.s anyway," she scoffed.

"It's not about what I care about," he said. "You care about them. You were running yourself into the ground studying for them a month ago, I might add. Fred and Tori are completely capable of handling Harry until one. And I don't think Fred was kidding about the cockroaches."

Actually, he knew he wasn't.

They didn't keep cockroaches, but he had no doubt that Fred would spend hours looking for them. Or summon them from Merlin knew where. And while he might typically assist his twin in such endeavors, he had no intention of putting himself in between him and Nessa.

She stared at him for a long moment, a look of petulant refusal coloring her face. He was prepared to argue, but he simply stared back at her instead with a stubborn look of his own. She responded better if he didn't push too hard, and he sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to do something stupid to get her to stay away from that classroom.

"Fine," she said casually. Far too casually if he were being honest. "I'll go to class then —"

"Nice try," he deadpanned. "I wasn't born yesterday. If you wanted to go to class, you wouldn't have slept in so late."

She huffed at him, and he was certain if she were standing, she'd have stomped her foot in irritation. He was tempted to put her on the floor just to test the theory, but he wasn't quite sure she wouldn't make a run for it entirely.

"You can't force me to stay," she said, annoyed.

"It would certainly be much easier if you'd agree to stay on your own, but I'm not above tying you to this bed," he said seriously. He paused thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, "I think I might actually mean that in more ways than one —"

He laughed when she thumped him lightly over the head in reproach.

"Can you get your mind out of the gutter for six seconds and be serious?" she said, blushing pink again. At this point, she didn't even know what the point was. Her body should have given up on it by now.

"Fine," he said, eyeing her carefully. "I am seriously considering using a spell to put you to sleep for another four hours. You can't keep going on like this, Vanessa. It's not healthy, for one thing and I'm running out of ideas here, love. You're snapping at me every turn, you're barely present when you're around us, and you're fixating on Harry, despite how miserable it makes you. So if you have any ideas to get you to relax for a few hours, I'm all ears."

There was a long moment of silence between them, and he wasn't entirely certain if it was because she agreed with him or because she was trying to think about a way to argue with him. It took him entirely by surprise, therefore, when she simply burst into tears instead. There was a moment where he just gaped at her before his brain caught up and he pulled her into his chest.

She hid her face in his neck immediately and he couldn't be quite sure, but he thought she might have started crying even harder.

"I'm sorry, George," she gasped into his neck. He could barely hear her, really. Both because she was crying so much and because his own thoughts were racing loudly across his mind. "I don't mean t-to be s-so horrible —"

"Shhh, love, you're alright," he soothed. "You're not horrible."

"I — I don't know how to do this," she cried. "I can't do this."

He raised her face to look at him, and rested his forehead on hers, swiping some of the tears away with his thumb. A probably useless action because they were immediately replaced with more.

"You can," he said quietly but firmly. "You already are, sweetheart —"

"Not very well," she sobbed. "I don't mean to snap at you. You've been so – so sweet to me, and I — I'm j-just s-so scared and anxious and it's all just p-piling up and —"

"I know, love," he interrupted gently. "I know you don't mean to. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, I'm just worried about you. If I could fix this for you, I would —"

"It's not your job to do that," she whispered brokenly.

She might have been a mess, but she knew that for certain.

He already did more than enough for her when she was stuck in an anxious episode, and she sometimes felt like she wasn't doing enough for him in return. If she told him so, she was sure he'd argue, but it made no sense to her how someone like him could be interested in someone like her. She was a jumble of anxiety and social awkwardness and he was everything her opposite. Using him as a means to calm some of that anxiety seemed like enough as it was, and her issues weren't his price to pay.

She knew she needed a better outlet for her emotions. She knew she needed to try and relax a little.

But everything was so immense at the moment, and she was having a hard time figuring out what exactly would help her.

"I know it's not," he said, wiping some of her tears away again. They were beginning to run down her cheeks and onto her neck, and there was no way that it was comfortable. "That doesn't mean I don't want to help. We're doing all we can — You're already doing everything you can, Vanessa. The task is going to come whether you run yourself into the ground or not, and we're trying to prepare Harry as best we can. There's nothing else for you to be doing right now. Let them help him. Let me help you."

"But what if he —"

"Then they'll come find us," he said firmly. He had no idea what she was going to say, but her anxiety was much worse when she voiced it aloud, and he was trying to get her to walk back to the side of sanity. "We aren't going anywhere. We can stay right here until lunch is over and then you can go back to worrying to your heart's content. I promise."

She sniffled and eyed him hesitantly.

"I can't go back to sleep now," she said eventually.

He chuckled lightly and kissed her on the nose. She scrunched her face up and pulled away from him to wipe the wetness from her cheeks.

"You don't have to sleep," he said, though he'd have preferred if she did. She was as beautiful as ever, but the stress was very obvious to him. He was sure lack of sleep didn't help. "We can do whatever you want. Just stay here with me for a few hours, okay? No thinking about Harry."

She snorted and gave him an expression that he was sure was meant to convey how unlikely she found this last statement to be, but she nodded anyway. She didn't look entirely happy about it, but he relaxed anyway. It was certainly much easier for him when she acquiesced to his ideas — she was notoriously stubborn, and it made things very difficult sometimes.

"Are we just going to sit here and stare at each other?" she said dryly when he didn't say anything else. He was twisting a strand of her hair around his finger and watching it idly twist back into place when he released it. Truthfully, he was perfectly content, but he grinned at her lopsidedly anyway.

"I like looking at you," he said shamelessly. "You're very beautiful."

She cleared her throat awkwardly, her cheeks coloring for the hundredth time that morning, and he didn't even bother hiding his amusement. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks. She tried to look exasperated, but failed miserably, opting to hide her smile in his shoulder instead.

"Stop it," she mumbled half-heartedly.

He laughed lightly — she was not very good at receiving compliments, but he could still hear the smile in her voice. It was somehow endearing and saddening all at once — he suspected that she simply didn't believe that she was beautiful and it surprised her too much when he said it. It only motivated him to shower her with more compliments until she believed it herself.

A challenge he was sure, but he liked those. Particularly where she was involved.

Merlin, he was a sap. Had he always been this way or was it because of her?

"I think the correct response is 'Thank you, George, you're ever so dreamy' —"

She snorted and looked up at him in amusement.

"You really managed to capture my voice," she said dryly. He smirked and raised an eyebrow at her, but before he could decide how to pay her back for her sarcasm, she lifted a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes — it was getting far too long; he should have let his mother cut it over the summer, but she'd been irritating him all of break, so he'd refused every time she'd asked — and he was immediately distracted by the soft expression on her face. "Thank you, George. I think you're very charming."

He tried very hard not to puff up his chest proudly — mostly because it would make him look like Percy, and it was a mortifying thought. Even more mortifying than turning into his mother, as he'd been worried about earlier in the morning. But she wasn't very comfortable handing out compliments any more than she was at receiving them, and it was very difficult for him not to grin like a loon when she gave them to him.

He caught her staring at him quite often, so it wasn't as if he didn't already know, but he still couldn't stop himself from beaming at her anyway.

"What about sexy?" he inquired.

She laughed, the sound somehow causing some of his residual tension to relax. She hadn't been laughing much of late, and he missed the sound of it — she was soft-spoken, but her laugh was loud and vibrant, as if her cheerfulness was the only one of her emotions that she felt entirely safe expressing.

"Cute?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"No," he scoffed indignantly. "I am cute, mind you, but that's clearly a step down from sexy. Dashing?"

She hummed in thought, but shook her head at him.

"Roguishly handsome," she said coyly, pushing his hair back again.

"See, now, that one I can get behind," he agreed immediately. "You should say it again. Really cement it into my brain, you know."

She laughed again, and he found it very distracting. Her eyes were brighter when she laughed. She still looked so very tired, so very high-strung, but she was distracted for the time being — focused on something other than Harry and the tournament — and he could work with that.

"You're being ridiculous," she said fondly, leaning forward to brush a kiss to his lips.

She made to pull away, but he slid a hand into her hair and pulled her back before she could go too far. She came willingly, melting into him the moment his mouth met hers again. She was particularly distracting and he hadn't had much time alone with her in the last two weeks — they'd all been too focused on either Harry or Sirius, and she'd been so tense that he'd been more preoccupied with getting her to relax than kissing her.

She was soft and pliant against him, her hands tightening on his T-shirt, and she gasped when he tightened his hold and deepened the kiss. He grinned against her because it was one of her tells, a sound she made every time he kissed her deeply and he often found himself kissing her until she made it before he bothered pulling away.

He rested his forehead against hers when he pulled back this time, and watched as her eyes fluttered open to look at him. Her breaths were coming out faster now, but she looked particularly content.

"How much time do we have?" she queried calmly.

He raised an eyebrow and lifted his arm to check his watch.

"About an hour," he said.

"Well, what did you stop for then?" she said, eyeing him in disapproval.

He chuckled, tilting her face up again.

"My apologies, sweetheart," he said before capturing her lips with his again.

He'd managed to distract her for at last twenty minutes after lunch had ended, although he hadn't been sure how. They'd spent some of the time talking about what he and Fred were working on for the shop, which had distracted her for quite awhile. She'd always taken a particular interest in what they were working on, and he was sure it had been one of the very first things that had attracted her to him from the start.

So many people brushed off his and Fred's dream as a passing fancy, a momentary idea that was meant to prolong their childhoods for as long as possible before they became jaded by the "real world." Even his more romantic interests — though that was a stretch considering he hadn't attempted seriously dating until Alicia — hadn't been particularly interested. Alicia had feigned an interest at first, but had asked him on several occasions what his "backup plan" was if the shop fell through.

They didn't have one. It wasn't how they operated. Some considered that dangerously optimistic, but he preferred to think of it as putting his entire energy into something he believed in. Dividing his attention between the shop and getting O.W.L.s for a job he'd despise would only slow their progress, and they already had enough hurdles to jump through.

But Nessa? She'd always been supportive of their ideas, which, truthfully, had been a bit surprising at first. She responded best to logical, rational arguments. She always had a backup plan in case one fell through. She wasn't exactly risk-averse, but she certainly wasn't keen on taking any if she could avoid it. Logistically speaking, he and Fred had a lot of work to do in order to be successful — money being the biggest factor — but she'd never mentioned it. It had become a new normal for him at this point, a calm sort of certainty, a relaxing thought on the days when his optimism about their success rate was depleted.

She took an interest in the shop, she bounced ideas off of him when he was stuck on something, she asked him to explain the theory behind the products backwards and forwards, until he was certain she might even know it better than either he or Fred did. Every time they'd talked about their products, his adoration for her was nearly impossible to breathe through, and he was certain it had shown when they'd been upstairs because she'd blushed and hid behind her hair at one point.

He'd been about to express his gratitude for her in that regard, but she'd seen his watch and had immediately jumped up, rushing for the door because they were going to be late. Pointing out that they weren't on a timetable seemed like an invitation to being hexed, so he'd merely followed after her with a shake of his head.

He'd had to wait for her to get changed into something else because she'd been nearly out the portrait hole before he'd reminded her that she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but even that had only been about five minutes.

Truly, he had never seen her run so fast.

"Where's Harry?" she panted when they reached the classroom again.

Tori and Fred had been huddled in a corner, and Tori shot away from him so quickly that she smacked her knee on the desk beside her and swore viciously. Fred snorted and muttered something that sounded like, "Subtle," but before George could ask what the hell was going on with the two of them, Tori spoke.

"He isn't back from lunch yet," she said, stomping on Fred's foot in retaliation.

George listened to them talk as he eyed his twin and best friend shrewdly. The two of them had been very odd of late. Over the summer, they'd been almost...awkward around each other; Tori had left the room any time Fred had entered for at least the first week, and she'd taken to laying on George's bed when they'd been in their room, which hadn't happened since...he couldn't even remember when.

He'd ignored it then, assuming they were in some fight about something he didn't understand, except now that he was thinking about it, they didn't fight much at all anymore. Or at least Fred didn't tend to start arguments with her as often. The last time they'd argued, he thought Fred was going to pace a hole into the floor.

It was all very odd, but the only answer to the problem that he'd come up with seemed equally ridiculous, and he was sort of afraid to push the matter with either of them in case he was right. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it, even if it did make sense in his head.

He knew his twin could see him looking at him, but he avoided meeting his gaze entirely.

"Relax, munchkin, he could use the break," Fred said casually, taking a seat in the chair closest to him and stretching his legs out in front of himself. "He isn't any closer to learning the spell anyway —"

Tori rounded on him with an incredulous look immediately, clearly seeing the mistake in the remark before his brother did. George sighed heavily.

"Which is exactly why he should be here," Nessa said stressfully. "We're running out of time —"

"This is exactly why I tell you not to talk to her," Tori said to Fred in irritation. "You don't think before you speak —"

"Oh, and you do?" Fred said indignantly. "You told Sinclair that her hair looked like a bee's nest."

"There's a difference between honesty and stupidity, Fred."

"Yeah and what's that? If you say it, it's honesty, but if I say it, it's stupidity?"

"Exactly."

"You're a pain in my ass, Victoria."

"Don't—"

"What is going on with the two of you?" George inquired before he could stop himself.

Had he not just been saying that they hadn't been fighting often? Their behavior was giving him whiplash.

His brother was clearly irritated with her, and he assumed it was because of her reaction when they'd walked in, but it would make more sense to him if they just said what the problem was.

There was a moment of hesitation where Tori looked at Fred and Fred looked at Tori and then both of them looked at Nessa, who was grimacing as if bracing for something explosive.

He was going to lose it. Between Tori and Fred's ever-changing behavior, and Nessa's anxiety, he was about six seconds away from needing to get his own head checked.

Before anyone said anything, Harry and Hermione came rushing into the classroom, and disrupted the tense atmosphere. It was not lost on him that Tori sagged in relief, closing her eyes as if she was praying.

Nessa whirled on her brother immediately.

"Where have you been?" she snapped.

Harry rolled his eyes to the ceiling and then gave George a long-suffering look.

"Great job relaxing her, mate," he said sarcastically. "I can really tell the difference."

George opened his mouth to retort, but Fred said, "I'm sure the snogging was relaxing while it lasted, if not a bit disappointing."

George grabbed the textbook on the desk next to him and sent it flying in his twin's direction. Likely harder than was necessary because he was still frustrated with what had happened earlier.

There was a momentary surprise in Fred's gaze before he smoothed it over to a casual disregard and tossed the book on the desk beside him.

"Look, we've got to give up on the Conjunctivitis Curse," Harry began. Tori and Nessa immediately disagreed.

"Absolutely not!"

"It's the only thing that works! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Do the two of you assume you're right about everything?" Harry said in irritation.

"Yes," they said together, crossing their arms in a way that was eerily similar.

He suddenly understood what people meant when they said it was frightening when he and Fred mimicked the other's actions without thinking.

"Okay, well, let's put a pin in that," Harry said, waving his arms around when Nessa tried to interrupt him again. "Listen, I was telling Cedric about the dragons —"

"Can't handle them himself, can he?" Fred said with a roll of his eyes.

George bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything. Diggory might be a prat at the moment, but it wouldn't do him any favors if he upset Nessa by talking badly about him. She was on edge enough as it was.

"Fair is fair," Harry said. "Everyone else knows, so should he —"

Nessa flung herself at him in a hug that looked like it crushed the wind right out of his lungs. Harry gave him a surprised look, but he merely shrugged. Again, his safest option.

"Thank you," she said, pulling away from her brother to look at him. She looked particularly teary-eyed and her voice broke a little on the words. "I didn't even think about him —"

Some of his annoyance thawed a little, though he was sure that meant he was a little petty. But there was something relieving in knowing she hadn't considered Diggory's fate in the task. He really had to get himself together. Perhaps he needed a head check — he got pissed off with Diggory for upsetting Nessa, but then got jealous every time she brought the bloke up. No matter how many times he reminded himself that she'd made it very clear she had no interest in him.

Maybe he'd hit his head last night when he was sleeping.

"It's not a big deal," Harry said awkwardly, handing his sister off in George's direction instead. He snorted, but wrapped an arm around her shoulder anyway. "Anyway, I was telling him and Moody overheard and —"

"You got us all detention, didn't you?" Tori said with a huff. "We really should walk you through the art of rule-breaking. This is getting embarrassing —"

"I didn't get detention," Harry huffed back at her. "You sound exactly like Nessa sometimes, you know. I think the two of you should take some time apart. Give me a bloody break, at least." Fred laughed, dodging Tori's swipe at him. "Can I finish my story please?"

Tori gave him a very exaggerated 'go ahead' gesture, which he largely ignored, though his deep breath was not lost on any of them. George had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing this time.

"Moody heard us, and wanted to talk to me in his office, and I thought I was going to get detention because we aren't supposed to know, but he just said that it was an honorable thing to do," Harry rushed out, as if afraid someone might interrupt him again. "Then he told me to play to my strengths. I can fly past the dragons if I can learn a Summoning Charm —"

"Harry, I don't know," Nessa said slowly. "It's risky. You don't even know how to fight them off, and they can fly too."

"I agree," Tori said. "It's not —"

"I think it's brilliant," Fred said.

Tori huffed and whirled on him.

"Well, of course you do," she said huffily. "You would fly past a dragon and get your head bitten off —"

"George," Fred said, raising an eyebrow at him, and ignoring Tori entirely.

Nessa turned to look at him, and there was a look of warning in her eyes. He sighed heavily.

"Give us a minute, would you?"

He pulled Nessa into the corner of the room and waved his twin and Tori over before Harry or Hermione could even respond to the question.

"George, you can't think this is a good idea," Nessa hissed immediately. "We can't guarantee that this will work."

"We can't guarantee that anything will work, Vanessa," he said calmly. "Even if he manages to learn the Conjunctivitis Curse, it's still a gamble that he can aim the spell properly. He could get hurt before he even manages it. We know he's good on a broom."

Tori crossed her arms over her chest.

"He could get hurt on a broom too, you know," she said. "Especially if he doesn't manage to summon the broom before it decides to fry —"

"Tori," George warned before she could finish that sentence. He loved her, but she was very blunt sometimes and it wasn't going to help. "Look, love, we haven't got much choice left. Tori already said he isn't any closer to learning the spell —"

"No closer than he was yesterday," Fred said, giving his friend a serious look. "If Tori were being honest, instead of sticking to her hatred for Moody —"

"That has nothing to do with it," Tori said heatedly. "Although the fact that he's a lunatic should certainly factor in here. For all we know, he could be trying to get Harry killed —"

"Under Dumbledore's nose?"

"It wouldn't be the first thing Dumbledore missed in this school!"

"Look, let's do it this way. It's four against two —"

"It's two against two," Nessa said with an eye roll. "Harry and Hermione don't count."

"How do you figure that?" George said in confusion. "Harry's the one that has to do it —"

"Because they're...younger," Nessa said, clearly grasping at straws. Fred snorted.

"Okay well by that logic, George and I are older than you two, so it's two against zero —"

"You're not older until April," Tori said with an eye roll.

"What are you talking about?" Fred said, throwing his hands in the air. "Older is older. Are the two of you just making this shite up as you go?"

"I don't know what the problem is with you two, but do us a favor and shut up for a second," George snapped at the two of them before looking at his girlfriend and softening his tone. "Vanessa, this is his best option. It's risky, I know," he said before she could argue. "I know you hate that, alright, but he's not going to learn this spell in time and we all know it. He's already got some background in the Summoning Charm, we just need to help him a little. His odds are much better. He's running out of time here, and we're running ourselves into the ground."

He could see the anxiety swimming in her eyes, and he hated it as much now as he had half an hour ago. He wished very suddenly that they could go back to their bubble in his dormitory where he didn't have to listen to his twin and Tori bickering and she didn't have to worry herself to death over her brother.

But if they got through this task, and Harry did well, she would relax so much better and pushing through this last hurdle was the only way to get there.

"Tori?" she said.

Despite there being no words between them, Tori seemed to know exactly what she was asking her. She had been giving Fred an irritated look, but the moment the query had been voiced, she turned to look at her best friend and her face and voice softened a little.

"I want to preface by saying I don't like it," she said and sighed heavily. "But Fred and George are probably right. I don't think he's going to learn this in time, and if this is the only chance we have left then we should probably try it. At least we know he has some plan going in that could work."

"Could," Nessa snorted, tugging on her hair in frustration. "This entire thing is a goddamn nightmare —"

Tori reached forward to tug her hand away from her hair.

"Look, I don't like Moody any more than you do, and I think he's a nut," she said bluntly. "We can all agree to disagree on that. But his choice is the better one if we're looking at this objectively — not something I'm particularly good at doing, mind you, but still. We know Harry can fly — he's better than people who have been on a broomstick for half their life —"

"Bit unfair, really," Fred said honestly.

" — and besides he clearly thinks he can do it," Tori said as though he hadn't said anything. "We need him going into the task as confident as possible."

Nessa considered carefully, chewing her lip. No matter what they chose, there was a chance something horrible could happen. But they were probably right — it wasn't really her choice to make, and Harry seemed confident in his ability to handle it. She couldn't control everything, much as she might wish to to spare Harry the decision. Nothing would make it any easier on him to look a dragon in the face regardless.

Remus had said she needed to trust that Harry could handle himself...

George curled a finger under her chin and lifted until she was looking at him again.

"Trust him, love," he said, as if he could sense the direction of her thoughts.

She hated this. The entire thing. But she sighed heavily and nodded, despite the pit of anxiety in her stomach. She hated the unknown, and nothing about this was within any of their control.

"Alright then," Fred said, turning to face Harry and Hermione again with a clap of his hands. "Let's get cracking on this Summoning Charm, shall we?"

Nessa had been focusing so hard on helping Harry learn how to summon his broomstick the night before that some of her blind panic had left her. It returned completely by Tuesday morning. Well, truthfully, it had returned the moment she'd laid down for the evening and not even George could manage to relax her. She'd slept in his room again because the idea of sleeping alone had been too much, but she was sure that neither of them had gotten much sleep at all.

She'd woken several times, her body shaking from such intense anxiety that it couldn't remain sleeping. On several occasions, she'd worked herself to tears and George had had to soothe her back to sleep.

At best, they had to have gotten four hours of sleep, but George was just as optimistic and patient as always. She truly had no idea how he managed it — the carefree cheerfulness seemed to come so easily to him.

And Fred was no different, although Tori had been eyeing the clock and tapping her quill against the desk through the entirety of Transfiguration. She was fairly certain that neither one of them had learned a single thing in the two hours they were stuck in the class, which would surely come back to bite them later. But there was something relieving about someone else being as anxious as she was.

Hermione and Harry did not look much better. Hermione didn't look like she'd slept at all, her hair in disarray, her foot tapping incessantly. Harry looked...like he had no idea what was going on around him, like he was completely separate from the rest of them, as if distancing himself from the entire thing was somehow keeping him from making a run for it.

Lunch was useless — none of them except the twins ate anything knowing that the task was immediately afterward. Nessa felt like if she ate, she might throw it up immediately and it was certainly not a place that she wanted to be. Not when people kept passing her and hissing insults at her or telling Harry that they'd have tissues ready. It was a true testament to both of their worries that they didn't even bother responding.

Before she knew it, McGonagall was hurrying over to them in the Great Hall.

Her hand immediately reached over to clutch onto Harry's arm, squeezing so tightly, she was sure her nails had to have broken skin. Maybe if she held onto him they wouldn't have to do this. She couldn't let him do this. It was barbaric, it was unfair, it was...it was insanity.

It felt like everyone was watching them when McGonagall finally reached them.

"Potter, the champions have to come down to the grounds now...You have to get ready for your first task."

She was going to be sick. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a nightmare, the worst she'd ever had. Nothing in her life had ever felt so horribly, all-consumingly bleak. The black, inky web of her anxiety was spreading across her body, every limb locking up completely.

Her fight or flight response was clearly shit because she was doing neither. She was freezing instead, and how useless was that? She should be running. She should be grabbing Harry by the robes and running out of this castle as far as she possibly could.

"Okay," Harry said, standing up suddenly, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.

She stood with him, and McGonagall gave her a pitying look. Truthfully, the woman looked about as anxious as the rest of them.

"You can't come with him, Miss Potter," she said gently. "Only champions."

Her entire world felt like it was caving in, but Tori reached a hand out to hold her hand and squeezed hard. She jolted a little, trying to wipe the horror off her face and give her brother a smile that was as close to comforting as she could manage. It felt wrong on her face, so she was sure it hadn't worked.

Wrapping her arms around him, she squeezed him so hard that his back cracked. He didn't even seem to notice much, holding onto her as if he might just drag her with him, McGonagall be damned.

"I love you, you know," she whispered into his ear, trying to keep herself from crying. It would be horribly embarrassing if he lived through this and she'd cried in front of the whole school and everyone started saying they needed tissues. "More than I've ever loved anyone in my life."

"I know," he said, his voice sounding strangely hollow. "I love you too."

"You'll be fine," she said, despite the fact that it was nothing close to how she truly felt on the inside. "Just focus, and everything will be fine. I'll come find you when it's over. Just — I love you."

She didn't know what else to say at this point. Everything she had ever lived for was about to walk into a pen with a live dragon, and the only thing she could think about was how much she loved him. How much his presence got her through the summer with their relatives, and how comforting it was to know that he would always exist in her life, and how much she'd imagined that he'd grow up and have kids or a wife or any of the other things that any other normal person had.

How it seemed so unfair that it could all end right here and his life had been so full of abuse and anger and murder attempts.

It was all shit.

He pulled away from her, and looked at her for a long moment before he climbed over the bench to follow McGonagall.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione said. "You'll be fine!"

Fred, George, and Tori all echoed the sentiment, sounding much more confident than she and Hermione had. They were so much better at maintaining a positive facade in order to avoid worrying people.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked her when Harry left with McGonagall.

Nessa forced her eyes closed and squeezed to keep the tears from pooling. It wasn't about her at the moment. It was about Harry, and she didn't want any of them to be focusing on her when they should be focusing on him.

So she nodded, despite the fact that it was not at all how she felt.

And she refused to watch as the one person she loved most disappeared through the doors of the Great Hall to go and face off against a dragon.

Lord, it's been a long week. I am so, so excited to be here finally! So much excitement.

Also, the site is down so I had to use the app to update instead. First of all, I didn't even know there was an app. But second of all, I tried to catch any formatting errors as I was copy and pasting, but I may have missed some. I apologize if I did. I wanted to get this submitted on time since I've been so inconsistent lately. I'll fix anything I didn't manage to catch once the site comes back up.

Enjoy your weekend!