Antidote

Chapter 12 - Accidental Compliments

***A/N I know I'm late on posting this chapter--I'm sorry! C'est la vie. No worries, though. I'm getting ahead on chapters to post. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

xx Ana

Uncharacteristically early Sunday morning, Jolie stood in the entry hall, leaning against the railing of the staircase she knew the Gryffindors would eventually come down on their way to breakfast. Draco had begrudgingly come to the girls' dorms and woken her up twice during his morning alone time. Thankfully, her second wakeup call had done the trick. She was now waiting for George Weasley—something she never thought she'd say.

It was an odd feeling; standing in wait for a Gryffindor that wasn't Neville. She felt antsy. Awkward. After their run-in after lunch on Friday, George had promised to give her his half of their weekly report for the antidote project. Their interaction that day had been strange, to say the least. He had walked her to her lesson. Walked her. And, of course, she'd been late thanks to their bickering. Then... Almighty Morgana, she'd said his fucking name. His given name. He'd noticed, too. She knew he did. Then, seeing him at the Slytherin party the next day had been—peculiar. More so was their interaction that night. She'd been pretty drunk by the time everyone had begun smoking so conversation had been scarce. But, thanks to Daphne's insistence on 'connecting the circle', Jolie and George shared a moment of—Salazar, help her—intimacy. At least, it felt intimate. Their lips had touched for Merlin's sake!

Jolie shook her head as she waited alone in the corridor. It didn't have to be intimate. Shouldn't be. Her and her friends' lips had brushed many times while doing that exact thing; but those instances had never made her fidget like this. No, no, no... she was being rash. In total, their little interaction had lasted a maximum of ten seconds. Ten seconds that felt like minutes had passed. Ugh, Salazar, spare her.

The sound of descending footsteps finally halted Jolie's warring thoughts. She looked up to see who was heading down to breakfast so early and locked eyes with the Gryffindor quidditch captain. Oliver Wood lifted a brow at her and gave a brief nod.

"Carrow," he acknowledged.

"Morning, Wood," she sighed as he passed, her eyes following his back.

A few laughs echoed through the entry hall, and she realized her mistake of wording—and here came the three most filthy-minded boys in all of Hogwarts.

"Nice one!" Lee Jordan called from the middle of the stairs.

He was flanked by Fred Weasley, laughing jovially as he swung his beater's bat around, and just the person she was waiting on, a grinning George bloody Weasley. It seemed the rest of the Gryffindor team followed, all wearing their practice gear, arm and shin guards already strapped onto their limbs. George practically skipped down the remaining two steps.

"Didn't know you were one for dirty jokes, Carrow," George commented, lifting a brow at her and biting his lip, holding in a laugh.

Fred and Lee let out hoots of laughter as they passed them, turning the corner to enter the Great Hall. Jolie rolled her eyes.

"That one was actually coincidental."

He nodded, his brows furrowed, and lips pursed. "But of course." Sarcastic git.

"Shut up." She blinked to keep her eyes from rolling again. "Anyway, did you bring your half of the report? I need to combine it with mine."

His amusement lessened but his shit-eating grin remained. He reached into a pocket of his faded red quidditch robes and pulled out a tightly folded parchment. Jolie's eyebrows shot up. They hadn't planned a specific time for her to acquire his report. She'd half expected to need to hound him all day for it. Nevertheless, he handed it out to her.