Sparks Fly || A George Weasley Story

Year 3: Last Minute

I was standing in the hall, talking with the twins about whether or not I'd be taking part in any of their pranks again (spoiler, I most definitely would), when I heard heavy footsteps clamoring down the hallway. We all turned to see Harry, sprinting towards us, his dark hair bouncing up and exposing his scar with every stride. As he approached us, he threw his arms around me and squeezed me with a surprisingly strength for such a little boy.

He'd been unconscious for the past few days, and even when he had woken up, was told to take it easy for a bit. They didn't want him getting worked up and passing out again. However, what I was more worried about is what Ron and Hermione had said that he'd told them.

How Quirrell had hidden Voldemort's face underneath his turban and that the stone that I once carried haphazardly in my pocket was known as Nicholas Flamel's 'philosopher's stone', and could be used to brew the Elixir of Life. Of course, these were all surprising developments in the story, but what really set me on edge was the fact that Harry had essentially murdered a teacher and no one was talking about it.

 Apparently, all he had done was try and push Quirrell away from him and he had burned him to a crisp. 

Nothing left but ashes...

I pushed the thought from my mind, telling myself that Harry had not killed the man on purpose, and hugged him back.

"Well, you are certainly looking refreshed," I laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Yeah, all thanks to you and Madame Pomphrey." He grinned up at me.

"Wait, what did Juni have to do with you being in the hospital wing?" George asked over my shoulder.

I hadn't exactly told the twins what I (and all the others) had gotten up to that night. In fact, my dormmates and I had pretty much been sworn to secrecy by the professors. Even if I hadn't been told to keep my mouth shut, I wouldn't have said anything. I wouldn't want them to worry too much about their brother as he'd come out of the whole thing practically unscathed. 

"I got myself into a right bit of trouble you see, and Juniper had a dream about it. So, she and all her friends came after us. I don't know how long Ron, Hermione, and I would've been down there without them." Harry explained, leaving out several key details that I'm sure he'd rather the twins not be in on, at least for now. 

"You couldn't have left Ron down there?" Fred rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"He's only joking," George said, "Thank you. We didn't even know he'd left until he came back to the common room the next morning."

"Don't thank me. It was Tamara, Robin, and Hermione that got your brother out. I just got them down there." I shrugged, seriously not trying to take credit when it didn't belong to me.

"Well, we'll just have to thank them later." Fred grinned as we entered the great hall together for what was to be one of the last feasts of the year.

We all sat in the great hall, the green Slytherin banners flying high over the long tables packed with students. Everyone wearing these awful pointy hats (mine having to be held down with several hair pins as it didn't really fit comfortably over my hair) as we ate and chatted to one another about how we thought Slytherin managed to snag so many house points. Cedric and I came to Slytherin's aid by telling people all of the legitimate ways you can get points, and telling them not to assume the worst.

Thanks to Fred, George, and I, neither of our houses even had a chance at winning the house cup, but I didn't mind. I've had enough of the spotlight for one year. However, when I heard the dinging of someone tapping a spoon against their goblet, and saw Dumbledore approach the podium at the front of the room, I suspected that something else was going to happen to give this last year the send off it deserved.