Junoesque ✿George Weasley✿

43.

If Hermione Granger had woken up in the night and ventured down to the common room, she would have had a wave of severe déjà vu. In the exact position as she had sat in her second year in the girls' bathroom, was Blair in front of a steaming cauldron. Blair had taken off her robe and thrown it over the arm of the sofa, leaving her in her school jumper and skirt. She had tied her hair up into a bun to keep it from dipping into the lime green liquid that was bubbling in the cauldron. She held her wand in one hand with a tiny flame used to heat up the cauldron's contents, while a bottle of a red gel sat in her other hand.

"That looks rancid," George commented as he peeked his head over the top of the steaming concoction, wrinkling his nose at the antiseptic smell that flowed out.

"It'll help immensely though," Blair replied, heating the bottom of the cauldron once more with her wand's flame.

"And what did you say you did to Potts?"

"Obliviated him."

"Will you get in trouble for that?"

"No one will suspect it was me. I wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the dungeons for my patrol. They'll think it was someone who was wandering the halls and didn't want to be seen or remembered."

George blinked and let his eyes wander over Blair's concentrated face. He had never heard of a Head Girl breaking the rules and stealing from a Professor's classroom, cursing a student and having no conscience over it. He wouldn't want Blair to get in trouble for his sake, no matter how painful his aching hand was. He was astonished at how laissez faire Blair was about the situation. Usually, she would be panicking that Potts would somehow remember what she had done and suffer an extremity like suspension or expulsion. But if he could punch Professor Umbridge in the face and not be expelled for it, he was sure she would be fine. And it seems that she knew that this time too.

His mind then focused on what George was actually looking at. His girlfriend was sitting in front of his cauldron brewing him a potion with stolen ingredients and didn't appear to care that she had cursed the Head Boy with a confundos charm and a memory charm. She had just finished Quidditch practice and was doing her Head Girl duties only to throw away those responsibilities and come to see him, forcing out his true feelings of having to use his own blood as ink for writing lines. Blair had changed from the silent and cold girl she once was, and has bloomed into a mischievous copy of what he saw as the most perfect girl in the world.

"I love you."

Blair nearly dropped the jar of murtlap essence into the finished potion. Her gaze rose from the cauldron and centred on George who looked exactly how she appeared. His lips were parted as if he wasn't meant to say what he did and his adam's apple bobbed up and down from him swallowing. As the potion bubbled and swirled in between them, they looked at each other with wide eyes and open mouths. After a moment, George straightened his slouched posture and cleared his throat, owning what he had said.

"That's right. I love you, Blair Rosier," he announced, looking into her eyes and holding her gaze like a tiger would with its prey.

"G-George... it's only been a year..."

"I know. I'm not asking you to say it back. I just wanted to let you know."

Never had Blair thought that someone would mutter those words to her. Maybe someone would mistake her for someone else, causing an aurora of awkwardness and misunderstanding afterwards. But George was saying it to her. He loved her. He loved her as a person, as a partner, as a soul. How could anyone ever feel that way about her? Even though she knew she felt the same way, as deep down she felt her heart warm and the feeling spread to the very tips of her toes and fingers. But something was preventing her from admitting it. It was that wall that she had thought was transparent until now. She still wasn't convinced that she was worthy of George's kindness.