Good Girl || George Weasley

47

George pulls back, grinning, his hands still cupping my face. My heart is full, so happy that he liked the show, that he's having a good birthday, that we got to experience our first times together.

And then I realize what just happened.

And I realize who is standing at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, gaping at us.

I step back, out of George's grasp, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion until he realizes I'm looking past him. The realization dawns on his face, and he starts to turn, and I hear him say Fred's name, but all I can focus on is Fred, who turns and starts to walk away, past Lee and Roger, who look just as shellshocked as I feel.

George runs after him, and I run with him, past Lee and Roger, until we catch up to Fred.

"Fred," I say, reaching out to touch his arm, but he jerks away from me, and I feel the tears already starting to prick in my eyes. I should've told him. I shouldn't have let George push it off for so long.

I should've told him after that very first night.

"How long?" is all he asks, looking straight ahead as George and I fall into step on either side of him.

George answers before I can.

"Since the Yule Ball."

Fred stops abruptly, so abruptly that George and I walk another step or two before stopping ourselves and turning to face him.

I can't read Fred's expression, and that terrifies me.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" he asks, his voice quiet, "What have I done to make you feel like you couldn't tell me? Both of you?"

I look at George, but he looks at more of a loss than I am, his eyes glued on Fred's face.

"We didn't- It wasn't-" I can't find the words, can't find an excuse, because there is none.

Fred doesn't look angry, but that doesn't bring me any comfort. He looks — pained, almost. Disappointed.

And that hurts so much more.

"I wouldn't have cared," he says, and behind him, there's a clamor of voices as other people start to run from the school. I ignore them, even as I hear my name. "I would've been happy for you. I am happy for you. Just — why? Do you not trust me?"

George is still silent, so I find my voice, tears blurring my vision as I keep my gaze locked on Fred.

"We didn't wanna hurt you," I say, my voice coming out weak and pathetic.

Fred's eyes meet mine.

"You did."

He turns and starts to walk back up toward the castle, as the other students near us. George doesn't hesitate to run after Fred, calling his name, but Fred doesn't look back. I soon lose sight of both of them in the crowd, and now, there are people on all sides of me, asking me about the fireworks and telling me how cool it was. I blink back my tears, forcing smiles at people, but then everything starts to hit me:

Fred knows. Fred knows, and he's upset, and it's all my fault and we should have told him and time is running out to figure out what's going on with Moody and I haven't talked to Remus but what if something happened to him and I don't know because I haven't been talking to him because I don't want something to happen to him and I'm a failure because I can't Apparate and the exam is soon and I fucking suck and my best friend is mad at me and-

I'm on the verge of losing it in front of everyone, biting down on my lip hard as it starts to wobble uncontrollably and probably drawing blood, but then I feel a hand on my arm, starting to pull me away, out of the crowd, back towards the castle. And I don't care who it is, because I'm grateful for them; it's probably Roger. Or Lee.