Good Girl || George Weasley

32

I tsk at him as we reach the landing of the staircase, where George tells the Fat Lady the password to the common room. "Not a very good date you are, Georgie," I tease him.

"I would've been," he says, "to you. Had I not been a dumbarse."

I feel myself blush as we enter the common room, and immediately George takes me by the shoulders and steers me towards the fire, rubbing his hands up and down my arms to try and help warm me up. I kneel by the fire, my skirt spreading out around me, and George tosses my heels to the floor before kneeling besides me, rubbing his hands together in front of the fire. The heat seeps into me, making me shiver as I warm up.

"You were just being a good brother," I murmur, and add quietly, mostly to myself, "A little too good."

I look at him, his face illuminated by the fire, and I desperately want to kiss him. And then I realize that I can, and it's not like all of the other times. I know his feelings now. I can kiss him whenever the hell I want, and I know it'll be reciprocated. Despite the fact that it still doesn't feel quite real.

He turns to look at me, smiling slightly, and a question pops into my mind.

"What?" he asks, and I smile back, shaking my head.

"When did you realize?"

I don't have to elaborate, because he seems to know exactly what I'm asking. He smiles wider, turning back to look at the fire as he rests his hands on his thighs, rubbing his hands up and down them absentmindedly. I watch his movements carefully, craving the feeling of his arms around me, his hands on me, and his lips on mine.

"I mean, I always had a crush on you. Even back when you had a crush on Charlie." He looks at me to see my reaction, and I can't hold back a smile as I roll my eyes at him.

"But," he continues, "I remember the day that I realized that I was in love with you. It was the day we borrowed Dad's car and went to pick up Harry last year, remember?"

"How could I forget?" I reply, "The most memorable part was getting screamed at by your mum afterwards."

George laughs, but I add, more seriously, "But why?"

He looks back towards the fire, and I swear that I see the hint of a blush beginning to spread over his cheeks. But maybe it's just the warmth of the fire.

"It was just... I dunno, really. I suppose it was just the first time you really went out of your way to break the rules, and you just seemed so fearless and I remember how much you were smiling and laughing once you'd gotten the car in the air, and you looked so beautiful, and I just..." He shakes his head. "You were so carefree in that moment, and so proud of yourself, and I remember sitting there and kinda thinking, oh, shit. I have it bad."

I giggle and scoot closer to him, and he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arm around me and pull me closer. I rest my head on his shoulder as we watch the flames, sitting in comfortable silence, until George asks:

"What about you?"

"I had a crush on you for the longest time, but it was the day we skipped class to go spy on Moody," I admit, recalling that afternoon, "I fucked up by telling you that kissing your best friend makes things awkward."

George snorts. "I thought you were talking about me."

"I figured you did," I reply, straightening back up to look at him as I reach back to itch just below my shoulder blade. As pretty as I've felt in this dress all evening, I'm definitely ready to take it off.

Or, to have someone take it off of me.

"But considering I said what I did, you still thought I fancied Fred? And not you?"