Princess; George Weasley

fourteen

"Claudia?" Eve asks. She quietly opens the door, and looks at me with puzzled eyes. She turns to Cedric and George. "What did you do?" She spits, glaring at the two of them. 

I look at her. Her concerned, defeated expression makes guilt churn within me. If I just listened to her everything would be fine. Instead I have to go after the one thing I can't have, and I hurt everyone in the process. I feel bad for Cedric and George, making them look after me when it was my mistake. I feel bad for probably disappointing Evangeline and Draco. I ache the worst for my father. I'm only adding on to his stress level. If he keeps bottling up his emotions, he'll crack. I quickly rush into the bathroom, grabbing my letter and quill with ink. 

I sit on the counter, and gaze at the paper. George walks into the quaint washroom and closes the door behind him. I frown, "How do I even explain the mess I've made?" The paper remains empty and I try to collect my thoughts. Whatever emotional high I had in the hallway is over. I just feel numb. Adrian kissed me, and tried to smuggle me a love potion and I can't even explain the anger I feel because it's gone. I'm just a shell of a person, trying to slow my mind.

George shakes his head. "The mess he made. Nothing that happened tonight is your fault, Prince."

I pick up the quill, but it doesn't touch the paper. If it were to I feel like I would just end up writing the same the words over, and over, and over. 

I miss you.

I look at George. His face his calm but determined. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks around the bathroom. 

"I miss them."

George looks down at the paper, then his gaze matches mine. "Who?" he asks, thoughtfully. 

I shrug. "Opal, my best friend from Ilvermorny, and...my grandmother. They'd know what to do."

He nods, not saying a word.

I laugh at the thought of what would happen if Opal was here. "Opal would cheer me up before running off and slicing Adrian's throat. My grandmother..." 

I feel something inside of me jolt. A yearning to see her pale, forgiving face in times like this. I feel my eyes well up but I ignore it, letting a few tears drip down my cheeks. I'm just causing myself pain but lord does it feel better than nothing. At the expense of being upset, I'm getting rid if the numb and at least having some reaction. "She'd know exactly what to say. She'd insult Adrian multiple times before making me something to eat."

I drop the quill, and it slowly rolls into the sink. A stream deep, black ink draws a line on our counter top. 

"Do you want me to write something?" I look up at George, and he smiles. "I can just explain everything, and I'll sign my name at the bottom."

I nod, and move the piece of paper to him. I watch as he cleans off the quill and starts jotting stuff down. His messy, half cursive handwriting has so much character. I watch as he goes back to re-read the letter before he signs his name. He folds it, and steps out of the bathroom to hunt for the rest of the letter. I peer into the dorm and see Cedric and Evangeline in deep conversation. Layla is sitting up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. She looks at the people in our room with confusion. Rosa is bak in our dorm, sound asleep. I wonder when she bothered to come back, and where she was while she was gone. Eve catches my eye and I quickly look away. She leans in the doorway, gazing at me with intense eyes.

"You're an idiot sometimes, Prince." I look at her and she has a small smile on her face. She walks up to me and wraps her arms around me. "I'm glad you got away from him when you did." She extends her hand and I kick my shoes off before hopping off of the counter. 

"Do you think I'm overreacting or under reacting?" I ask. I've cried, I've gotten angry, but at the same time it feels like I've done nothing to comprehend what just happened. It's not like he poisoned me. 

"Dia," she says, frowning. "There's no right or wrong reaction. Everyone handles trauma differently."

I look at her, confused. "That wasn't trauma, it just--"

She shakes her head before walking back to her bed. She leans her head against the headboard, and looks up at the ceiling. I walk into the room, steadier now that I'm just on my feet. The cold floor makes me quickly put on a pair of warm, shagged socks. 

Cedric stands, and smiles at me one last time before slipping out of the dorm room. George seals the envelope before quickly writing the return address in the corner. "Do you want me to take this to the owlery?"

I nod. "I'll come with you, I could use a walk." I check the time and I notice that it's just back twelve thirty. It feels like a whole day has passed by since the last time I stood in this dorm room.  George gives me a skeptical glance but he walks out the room, letting me trail behind him.

After a few minutes of silence, George tries to diffuse the tension "Are you trying out for quidditch?"

I laugh, "Is that all guys here care about?"

George shrugs, "Hufflepuff hasn't won the tournament in ten years. You guys could use some help."

"Cedric, Eve, and--" I cut myself off before I can say Adrian. "Cedric and Eve think I'll make a good chaser."

"I could see that," he says, "You're quite small--"

"George," I laugh, "I'm five foot, seven inches."

He looks at me puzzled. "170 centimeters?"

I nod.

"Why do Americans have to have their own system. Is ours not good enough--"

I chuckle at how annoyed he's getting. We quiet down. "What's with Fred and Johnson?"

He shakes his head. "He hasn't told me anything. I'm not sure if the feeling is mutual."

"Oh," I say.

George laughs. "What's with you and Cedric?" He asks, a wide grin on his face. "Or you and Malfoy?"

"George!" I yell out, "Draco is thirteen!" I'm baffled at his question, and I can't help but give a small laugh. 

George scoffs, "It's only two years."

"Draco's like my little brother," I say, shrugging. "I hate him, but I'm happy he's my friend."

George nods. "And Cedric?"

"I don't know..." Images of his charming smile fills my head. His defined jawline is standing out, but his warm, gray eyes make him look soft.

George's smile fades. "How the tables have turned--"

We make it to the owlery and the loud, hooting owls cover the rest of his sentence. I find the loudest black owl in the corner. Harriet protests loudly while I wrap my letter around her leg. She quickly jumps off of my arm, and her dark feathers blend into the night sky. Once we leave the owlery, I turn towards George.

"What do you mean?"

He shakes his head, "Didn't you think Cedric was a flirt when you first met him?"

I laugh, "maybe."

I don't say more or less. We walk back to the basement in a comforting silence. 

George smiles, "get some rest, okay?"

I nod. 

"Night, Claudia."

I grin. "Bye George."