LIONHEART ❃ george weasley

043 | unveiling the truth

"Starts with d," George chimed, grinning.

"Ends in s—"

"Big and scary—"

"Or cute and scaly, as he'd say—"

"Dragons," the two finished together, eyes gleaming.

Albany nodded, grinning. "How did you guess?"

"That man eats, sleeps and breathes dragons," Fred snorted.

"Mum used to heckle him about getting a girlfriend all the time," George added, "but she gave up once she realised that if he ever married it would be a dragon."

"No kidding," Albany laughed, glancing to where she had Charlie's letter to her open on the table. "He had about five thousand questions, and I think he only stopped because he ran out of ink."

Fred raised an eyebrow at her. "At least some of those questions are valid," he pointed out. "You never did explain what actually happened in there with the dragon."

Albany bit her cheek, returning her gaze immediately to her parchment. "Um — it's kinda hard to explain, I guess...."

To her relief, she was interrupted by a sudden rushing of owls overhead as the morning post came in. She gratefully took a letter addressed to her in her mother's handwriting from a tawny owl, while Pigwidgeon nearly dive bombed the table in his enthusiasm to deliver a newspaper to the twins.

"Poor Pig," she giggled, reaching out to pet the skittish little owl. His wide eyes seemed too big for his head as he blinked at her curiously. "I was hoping you'd be given a break for the holidays."

She glanced mischievously to the twins, waiting for them to react to her playful jab, but the two were silent. Her face rapidly fell as the smiles faded from their expressions, both staring at the front page of The Daily Prophet. Carly exchanged a worried glance with Albany, before the two girls leaned in to see what the fuss was about.

Albany's stomach dropped through the floor. There, in a large image on the front page, was her and George from the night of the ball. Albany watched with growing horror as her eyes in the photograph lit up with a bright gold, the face of her watch shining brilliantly, before George collapsed into her arms and she turned in the direction of the photographer, eyes dimming again. The scene played on repeat, taunting Albany and twisting her insides into a thousand nauseating knots. Just above it was the headline, in large bold letters; BRONWEN'S BIG SECRET — HOGWARTS IN DANGER?

Albany felt her jaw gaping the more she read. The body of the article was ridiculous, and though nothing had been mentioned of Merlin or old magic, various conspiracy theories were brought to light in the print, each and every one slamming her for her supposedly dangerous actions and attack on her fellow student. The author, of course: Rita Skeeter.

"Fuck," she breathed, desperately fighting the urge to gag. "Fuck. Fuck."

"This shouldn't be allowed," Fred muttered in disgust, fist tightening where he gripped the newspaper. "This is revolting, she doesn't even know what's going on."

"Putain," Carly hissed, and Albany hadn't a clue what it meant but figured it wasn't a friendly word.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered, though was unable to tear her eyes from the looped image of herself and George. Stares were burning into her from all around the hall, and she was sure if she acknowledged them she would retch. "Fuck, George, I'm so sorry—"

"It's not your fault," he muttered, though his gaze was still fixed on the newspaper.

"We need to — we need to fix this," Fred said, crumpling the paper in his hands. "This can't be legal, it's a total invasion of privacy, and you're both — well, George is still underage—"