Delicate Magic ► George Weasley

thirty-two. pink flavoured cinnamon

Iola could confidently identify the emotions that blurred and spread through her as they made her heart race: she was nervous. Very nervous and a little bit excited, but mainly nervous.

It had been a feeling that persisted from the moment that she had asked Hermione for help and hadn't faded once, not in the slightest. She had always known that she was good at acting, at pretending and putting on a face, but she hadn't realized how good she was until she was lying and acting right to George's (and Fred by defaults) face with only the tiniest bit of suspicion.

Hermione had listened to her idea and only after a little bit of protest -- protests that were mostly for show than anything else -- before the girl promised to get back to her with a plan.

When Iola say her in the morning she had an entire plan outlined with everything that had to be done with Ginny and Helene tagging along, the girls dragging Iola away from breakfast bright and early before she had even gotten out to do her training -- training that had been moved to after breakfast because it was far too cold and she was allowed to change her schedule however she wished.

They had sat her down, detailing the whole of a party and how they were going to keep it a surprise from them by recruiting Harry and Ron to keep the twins distracted where Helene wouldn't that Saturday while Iola went into Hogsmead with Hermione.

Ginny, of course, would do as she normally did, checking in with her brothers only enough so that it wouldn't be suspicious while she ducked in and out of the kitchen to visit with the house-elves for food (Hermione had been against this until they had expplained that it was actually there job and they would be delighted to do it).

In turn, Iola had volunteered to get Ponpy to run errands throughout out the week claiming that he would be thrilled to do actual work instead of simply pressing her uniforms and making sure she had all the tea that she desired. Her dear Ponpy had been more than pleased to be instructed to purchase barrels of butterbeer for her, just as content to store them until asked to set up.

And Dobby had insisted on going with him and Winky. The three were more than capable especially when she slipped them a separate list that she wished for them to get, sending them out with more than enough money to pay telling them that they were to keep the change. Iola had ignored Ponpy's pout when and protests that it was too much money and sent them on their way with a secret smile.

Now that it was finally the day, she was hard pressed to shove down the emotions that were bubbling up inside of her. She couldn't just allow herself to dive into these sensations when to do so was still such a... was so clearly and firmly against the rules. Emotions were weakness and vulnerability and allowing herself to just let them run wild without control was reckless and foolish and would lead her down a road to ruin.

It was against everything that Aveline had taught her, everything that she had known her entire life, and though she knew that those teachings weren't exactly wrong, but that they also weren't right and were unhealthy, she was trying to shred them, change them to the best of her abilities so that she didn't lose herself and crumbe into useless pieces. She would have emotions and she would understand her feelings, but she wasn't going to be ruled by them.

So she shoved down the nerves the best she could and followed Hermione out of a tiny shop that was a random collection of wizarding items that she could have possible bought a gift for the boys from but ultimately ended up deciding against.

Because what was she even supposed to get for them when George had explicitely asked her not to go spending money on them. It was hard but Hermione was supportive and she was deeply appreciative for it.

She just didn't exactly know what to get them even as Hermione insiste that she didn't need to get anything.

Allowing herself a small, momentary frown, Iola ducked her head and glared at the dirty path under her feet. She had gotten everything else done during the week but this was really, really--