"We're closed," George called over his shoulder, his attention focused on returning the boxes left scattered on the floor by a group of teenagers. Merlin, what were parents teaching their kids nowadays? When he was their age, he and Fred were up to much grander displays of chaos.
He waved his wand and the boxes floated upwards and towards their respective shelves, which was when he realized he never heard the sound of the door opening and closing. "I said we're closed. You can come back in the morning."
"I'm not here to buy anything," said a posh voice that had become all too familiar to him.
George turned to see Daphne Greengrass standing in the middle of the shop, wearing the black leather jacket he'd teased her about buying. Ha, knew it would look good on her. As did the green dress she wore beneath it, but he was distracted from his appreciation by the tension in her posture. She eyed him almost warily, and her lips parted as if to speak but only closed again.
Now that was unacceptable.
"What brings you to my humble shop then?" He smiled brightly and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Did you miss my rugged good looks that much, Greengrass? I'm flattered, I really am."
He hoped for an eye roll or a sarcastic comment or, best of all, a bit of over the top flirting, but none of that came. "Weasley, just stop. Please." Her right hand curled into a fist and then unclenched. "This is actually what I came here to talk about with you."
What? My rugged good looks? That was the response on the tip of his tongue but he decided discretion was the better part of valor and waited for her to continue speaking.
"Look can…can we just stop with the fake flirting," she said and he felt something cold in the pit of his stomach. "And just start over."
He straightened up and said, "Okay. Shite, Daphne, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
"You didn't make me uncomfortable, George," she said softly. "On the contrary, I was having fun, but it stopped being only a bit of fun for me." She smiled, but it looked more sad than anything else. "The problem is that I'm enjoying it too much."
"Is that right?" George bit the inside of his check to prevent the satisfied smile fighting to break out on his face. "How's that?"
"Are you really going to make me say it?" He raised his eyebrows and she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "unbelievable" under her breath. "I have feelings for you, you prat, and I need to stop playing around with you to get over them."
George stared her straight in the eye. "I don't want you to get over me. Since it'd make me fancying you just a bit awkward."
Her face shifted between surprise then irritation before settling on exasperated amusement. "Seriously? Were you ever going to tell me?"
"Hey, it's not my fault you're impatient. I was going to be suave as hell-"
She laughed.
"-and sweep you off your feet. But I suppose I'm just too handsome for my own good," he finished with a wistful sigh.
"You're something alright." She smiled and her blue eyes practically lit up.
He tugged on the sleeve of his magenta robes. "It's the robes isn't it? They bring out my eyes."
She shook her head, but she was still smiling. "The fact that I still find you fit even in those hideous robes just proves that I'm a goner." Her smile turned sly. "But still not half as fit as I think you are without them on."
"I had no idea you were so delightfully forward," he said.
"You bring it out in me."
Later he would not be able to say if he closed the distance between their faces first or she did, but he would remember the hungry way her lips pressed against his.