SEVEN

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The house was quiet, the silence only interrupted by the slow creaks heard as a person got down the stairs, their steps heavy. He reached the bottom of the stairs, ran a hand through his tousled red hair, hid a yawn behind his hand as he entered the kitchen, his eyes instantly finding the man sitting at one of the chairs, a cup raised in front of his mouth. A teasing smile formed on Ron's lips as he took a sip from his mug and peered over at his brother.

"Good morning, George."

"Morning," George muttered as he headed to the counter, still half asleep as he ran a hand over his face. Ron's smile remained.

"Did you sleep well?"

George started brewing himself some tea before he turned to Ron. "You've never asked me that."

Ron's smile widened as he shrugged. "I figured you might have dreamed of something nice. A woman, let's say, with light brown hair, a pretty face answering to the name Iris."

George would have rolled his eyes if he weren't so sleepy. "I didn't dream of her."

"I just thought it could be an option, considering you went to her house on Valentine's Day." Ron was openly smirking by now as George let out a sigh and turned back to his tea. "Hermione told me she found you sitting beside Iris as she slept on the bed, watching a movie when she got back. And you also left chocolate at home."

"It was supposed to be a gift," George muttered, "I was just keeping her company."

"I'm sure that was your only intention."

George turned around to face him with a slight scowl. "Say what you mean, Ron."

Ron leaned forward. "You like her."

George raised his cup of tea to his lips. "You've no proof."

Ron grinned. "I'm happy for you, you know. You don't open up to new people and you deserve to have someone beside you. From what I've heard from Hermione, Iris is a good person."

"She thinks I'm just being friendly," he pursed his lips, "there is nothing going on between us."

"I've witnessed the easy way you talk to each other a few times, I've seen the way she looks at you or smiles at you," Ron insisted, "she likes you too. I'm sure of it."

George set his cup on the counter. "I never realised you were insightful, Ronniekins."

Ron scowled. "These were mostly Ginny's and Hermione's observations."

He hummed, "Makes sense."

"Come on, George," Ron continued as if his brother had never spoken, "when are you going to make a move? It's not a given she will wait forever."

He shook his head, "It's too early in the morning to have this conversation."

Ron frowned. "Are you not planning on telling her anything? Are you going to ignore your feelings the way you've been doing ever since the war?"

George pursed his lips. "I'll wait for the right moment."

Ron's frown deepened, "But-"

"I'll see you at the shop in a few minutes."

"Stop excluding yourself, George," he managed to say just as George left the room, his cup of tea at hand.

He got up the stairs, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand as he went, his footsteps rather heavy as he almost dragged his body up to his room. He didn't see another family member as he reached his room and slipped inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

His room wasn't particularly messy. There weren't discarded socks lying around or any clothes with food stains on them on his floor, although the clothes he would wear for the day were already placed on a chair in the corner of the room, in front of his desk. His desk specifically was the most messy part of his room. There were papers around, none of them stocked evenly above the other, a chaos of product notes and sketches as well as potion antidotes, his thoughts written on paper on a whim from the random bursts of creativity he got. He had yet to transfer the papers to his lab in his joke shop although he needed to do it soon before his desk overflowed.

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