The Darkest Witch

George: Counting Sheep

Scotland
Hogwarts
George

At one-thirty in the afternoon, George Weasley went down from the Gryffindor Tower, jogged past the Quad, and made his way towards the library. He then leaned against the doorway and popped a piece of toffee into his mouth to ease his nerves. He had not realized how anxious he'd been until he'd seen Belinda, walking towards his direction with a smile.

When she reached him, she placed her hands on George's shoulders, gently urging him to bring his face closer to hers.

"Goodness, you're tall," she said as she kissed George on the cheek.

By now, all of the sentences he'd rehearsed in his head were lost. George feared he was blushing as Belinda stood in front of him, in a black, long-sleeve blouse and a pair of pearl earrings. As usual, her hands were wrapped with lace gloves and was decorated with a deep, purple ring.

"Don't you look handsome," she said. Dimples again.

"Thank you," George said, smiling. "You don't look half bad yourself."

Belinda, within equal humor, returned the smile and tilted her head towards the room beside them, reminding him of what they were there for.

In all six years of George's academic life, he had never stepped foot inside the library — or any library as matter of fact. Its required silence and its narrow spaces filled with endless shelves of books were not best suited for George's natural affinity for mischief. When they entered the room, he saw Hermione Granger with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even the librarian, Irma Pince, took a surprised second look when she saw George round the corner with Belinda towards a vacant table.

"You must come here often," she said with a sarcastic grin.

"Was it that obvious?" he replied as he took the seat right in front of her.

"Very much," she said, sarcastically . "You look like the type who likes books."

He leaned over to her. "Madam Pince would strongly disagree."

They both held their laughter.

Belinda had chosen a table situated farthest from rest and it had reminded George of what Kevin had told him the other night. Apparently, everyone thought Belinda was arrogant and could not be bothered to accommodate someone's interest. George only laughed at its absurdity. Belinda was everything but proud. That he knew for certain.

"So, have you chosen an alchemist yet?" She said as she opened her notepad. George followed suit. "There's not much to choose from. Professor Slughorn might need to read at least twenty essays about Nicholas Flamel. He's the only alchemist well documented."

"Exactly! That's why I chose someone else. He's too predictable."

Belinda's eyes sparkled in interest. "And who might George Weasley reckon as unpredictable?"

"You."

George watched her wide eyes narrow in surprise. For a moment, George feared he'd gone too far. He knew she'd react this way. Belinda was notorious for rejecting every journalist who had approached her. No one had the slightest inclination of her personal life other than those that she could not control. He knew that she valued her privacy amongst all else but George wanted to know more and he was willing to risk it all.

"Me?" she replied. George sighed in relief. "I don't think I'd be interesting."

George watched her as she bent her head low. For a person so accomplished and well-composed, George expected her to respond with pride and confidence. George and his twin brother, Fred, barely had anything on their name and they both have the confidence of ten businessmen.