My Best Friend George Weasley ~ Year One

Chapter Seven

Updating today in honor of Fred and George's Birthday!!! I find this day so fitting for the date of their birth!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 7:

My mom gave me a big huge when she saw me, and then George, who looked a little uncomfortable when she did, but then again she always gave him and Fred a hug when she saw them so by now he should be used to it. Then she looked around, put her hands on her hips, and said: “Fred?”

                I tried not to laugh. “Mom, he is George.”

                “Oh, right,” she said with a smile. “Well where is Fred?”

                “He wasn’t brave enough to help her carry her trunk,” George said. “I realized my mistake after about two steps. That thing is heavy.”

                “Ah, well thank you for helping Echo,” my mom said and gave him a smile, “And taking her to get her school things this morning.”

                “No problem,” George replied.

                “I’m going to go get started on dinner now. George, you will stay for dinner right?”

                I smirked at him. He couldn’t say no to my mom when it comes to food. No one could. If you did she would get all sad and go ‘oh okay’ and it made you feel like you just cut her heart open.

                “Of course,” he said.

                “Great!” Mom chimed and walked off towards the kitchen.

                George looked down and shook his head. “She is almost as hard to say no to as you.”

                “If not harder,” I said headed back for my room.

                “Nope,” he replied following me, “you are defiantly harder."

For the next hour we sat in my room playing a muggle video game called Space Invaders. George was horrible at it. Fred could handle it pretty well, but George; he was no match for me. Every once in a while he would get so mad because he had not pressed the right button he would stand up and pace the room looking like he was about to punch through the window.

                “Dinner!” Mom called from the kitchen.

                We had grilled chicken, rice, steamed vegetables, rice, boiled potatoes, and rice. That was the thing about my house; it was usually a cross between English food and rice. If you didn’t like rice you had a bit of a problem because we had it with every meal. The thing is for George, though, is that he didn’t like rice.

                “Why do you always have rice!” he exclaimed as we headed for his house. This how it usually went, but Fred was typically there. I would walk halfway and then we would go our separate ways, that way we walked the same distance. The twins had come up with it one day when they were walking me home. I think they came up with it because we had spent the evening playing with Dung Bombs and they had kept throwing them at each other’s feet, and so ended up with welts on them, therefore wanting to walk as little as possible.

                “Because rice is very important,” I said with a laugh. “Where would Japan be without rice?”

                “We aren’t in Japan, we are in England.”