A Name Worth Losing.

The Serpent and the Weasley

*George's POV*

"George, I sware if you don't tell her before the year's out--"
Fred muttered, smacking his twin on the back of the head with a rolled-up Daily Prophet he'd pilfered from Lee.

George didn't even flinch. His attention was fixed across the Great Hall, where the Slytherins sat in their usual regal formation. His eyes lingered on one of them in particular --- Cordelia -- who, as always, looked entirely unbothered by the chaos around them.

Cordelia was in his year. A soft spoken Slytherin girl. Long black hair, dark green eyes, and on the slight plus sized. She was tall, for a girl. She was 175 cm. But still shorter than the twins who stood at a literal giant hight of 193 cm.

Fred followed his line of sight, the groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, again?"

"Can't help where the eyes wander." George said casually, though the faint pink in his ears betrayed him. He tore his gaze away, stabbing absently at his eggs.

Fred snorted. "You've been staring at her for two years. At this point, You're bordering on obsession."

"Admiration," George corrected smoothly. "Big difference."

Fred leaned in with a grin. "You're not usually this slow, Georgie. Normally, you've got half the castle swooning before breakfast. What's the hold-up?"

George sighed. "She's a Slytherin, Fred." He said it like it explained everything.

Fred tilted his head. "And?"

"AND, mum would pitch a fit." George said, though the excuse sounded weak even to him. He grinned anyway, trying to hide the unease behind it. "She barely survived you dating that Ravenclaw with the nose ring."

Fred chuckled. "Yeah, but she survived it, didn't she? Look, you like her, don't you?"

George didn't answer, just busied himself pouring pumpkin juice he didn't really want.

Fred's grin softened. "Then go for it. You're not gonna explode if you talk to her."

George hesitated. His thumb tapped the edge of his goblet. "It's not that simple."

Fred's teasing faded, replaced by a rare seriousness that only appearded when they talked about their future joke shop. "What's really going on?"

George glanced around to make sure no one was listening before he admitted quietly, "I think her family might be dark. Heard a bloke in the dungeons last month talking about it."

Fred raised a brow. "And you think that means she is?"

"I don't know," George muttered. "But if they are...I can't exactly picture mum knitting her a Christmas jumper."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Mum's not the one who'd be dating her. You are. And if you think she's worth it - and judging by the way you stare at her like she hung the bloody moon, I'd say you do - then that's all that matters."

George let out a quiet laugh. "When did you get so wise?"

"Born that way," Fred said smugly, standing. "Now stop moping and at least talk to her. and for Merlin's sake, brush your teeth first - no one likes pumpkin-breath."

Before George could reply, Fred was gone, leaving him alone with his nerves and his breakfast.
Alright, he thought. He could do this.

Later that afternoon, George caught sight of Cordelia leaving the Potions corridor with a few friends.
Perfect. Well, horrifying, but perfect.

"Oi, gorgeous!" He called, jogging up to her. A few heads turned - Slytherins were never subtle about their judgement - but George didn't care. He flashed his usual grin, the one that got him out of detentions and into trouble.

"Listen, I was thinking --- Hogsmeade weekend's are coming up. You, me, a couple of butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks?"
Cordelia's friends snickered and whispered something before walking off, leaving the two of them alone.

George shifted slightly, lowering his voice. "I'll even pay. You can pick the table -- somewhere you can hex me easily if I say something stupid."

He grinned wider, suddenly feeling a bit more like himself again. "What do you say? Take pity on a poor Gryffinfor before I start serenading you in the corridor."
Merlin, he hoped Fred never found out how nervous he actually was. He'd hold it over him till he's on his death bed. He may even add it to his speach at their wedding someday. His ears turn pink at the thought and he internally curses himself as he looks down at her.

He watches her glance from her group of friends and back to him. She looks him up and down slow. Then she smiles soft. "Okay, Weasley...I'd be happy to get butterbeer with you."
Her voice is soft, gentle, well spoken. His heart pounds and stomach flips hearing it.

*Cordelia's POV*

Cordelia wanders out of professor Snapes class with Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson. Pansy conplaining, like usual about something Draco had done that morning. She sigh soft and smile and roll her eyes when the voice hits her. Echoing down the halls and she turns her head with the other two girls. George Weasley is walking towards them.
"Oh Merlin...One of the Weasley clan..." Pansy mumbles as he stops in front of them.

"Listen, I was thinking --- Hogsmeade weekend's are coming up. You, me, a couple of butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks?" He says giving her his signature smirk. She glance at Daphne and she takes the hint, grabbing Pansy and walking a bit down the hall.
"What do you say? Take pity on a poor Gryffinfor?" He gives her a look that reasembles a golden retriever begging for a ball to be thrown. A faint smile comes to her lips. She looks him up and down slowly. Dress shirt untucked, one shoe untied, and tie pulled slack with a button undone at the top.

She'd seen him in classes in the past. He was loud, obnoxious, usually wrong, and loved attention. But for a Gryffindor? He was kinda cute. She reach up and tuck some of her black hair behind her ear and she hold her potions book closer to her chest. She glance to the side and shrug slightly.
"Yeah..Okay, Weasley...I'd be happy to go get butterbeer with you."

She could hear his breath audibly hitch, and his grin widened genuine and bright like sunlight through the Great Hall stained glass.

*George POV*

"Really?" he said, then immediately winced at how eager that sounded. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool.
"I mean -- great. Fantastic. Hogsmeade this weekend then."
He shoved both hands into the pockets of his pants past the untucked bottom of his dress top to stop himself from doing something stupid -- like reaching out or fidgeting too obviously.

The silence between them wasn't awkward exactly...just new. Quiet in a way George rarely expierenced except with Fred after a prank gone wrong. Like when he made Ginny's eyebrows dissappear instead of dancing on her forehead.
(A item prototype him and Fred cooked up for their shop someday. Obviously vetoed after she looked into a mirror and screamed so loud Professor Dumbledore heard it up to his office.)
He couldnt help looking into her deep green eyes -- the kind that could either cut you down or pull you in -- and right now? He was stuck in place. But, unlike when hes watching her from a distance, this time she's studying him back. and for once...George Weasley didn't know what to say next without sounding like an idiot who'd only ever flirted with Gryffindor girls who laughed at even the tiniest thing he said.

He finlly clears his throat. "What time works for you?"