A/N:
>>>>> = Time Skip
<<<<< = Flashback
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George Weasley POV:
[Ichor]
The lights inside the Hogwarts Express flickered dimly as the train lurched forward, moving against the downpour. Fred grumbled about the trick-treats we had created, that our mother had thrown away. But seemed to be getting more concerned with something our older brothers mentioned as we boarded the train. They purposely didn't say much, all we knew was that it would be so exciting they suspect we'd be wanting to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break. I guess, I wouldn't mind staying at Hogwarts rather than returning home, what with...one thing or another.
"Draco."
My ears twitched reflexively at the sound of her voice. My head automatically moved a fraction toward the opened compartment door. Fred's voice seemed to be muffled in that instant.
"S'not like they'd want me there anyway." I listened to their conversation. Their voice drifted out of the neighboring compartment and into mine.
"Are you listening?" Said my brother suddenly.
"What?" I looked quickly at my brother Fred.
"-I was surprised to see the Weasley's and Potter there together, at the Top Box of all places. God knows how they were able to afford such tickets." Malfoy's words came into our compartment, during the swift silence that followed after mine.
"Why do you always have to be such a dick, Draco?" We heard her say irritatedly.
My twin brother raised an eyebrow with a grin. I shook my head with a smile. Offensive words have always been in her vocabulary, and it was always entertaining to see her struggle not to use them when around us: Gryffindors. I'd heard they had become rather close over the summer, I found myself wondering how that came to be. But I knew it would be a lengthy time before I could get any answers to my many questions.
"The sight of you, infuriates me."
Her next words had my interest. I could tolerate their friendship if he truly did not appeal to her. I listened, internally thanking my brother for allowing my oddity in this moment. Only he could ever accept my peculiarities lately.
"I have all the letters you sent me over the summer that say otherwise." How amazing it was Draco's words could have a surge of fury and despair, instantly running through me.
"Don't make me regret this." She said.
"Any woman involved with me will have no regrets."
My muscles tightened, and my hands suddenly clenched to fists. Has she really moved on? Did she really grow tired of waiting for me to make up my mind?- My feelings? My despair raged in my heated blood. My skin prickled with anger for myself, that I thought she'd wait for me until I knew if I could reciprocate her feelings toward me. But mostly I yearned-ached- to go to her and dramatically confess; it's her. It's her; now I can't even recall how it felt to not have feelings for her. A day hasn't passed that I haven't thought of her, like my mind refuses to exist without her in my thoughts.
Her soft brown-hair that flows like liquid over her back, her soft skin that so easily could suffuse with a pink blush, her gray eyes. Unlike most, I've seen that look almost sickly, hers were bright and warm like the ash that fell from burning wood. Her eyes were so enchanting, so enthralling, a canvas that was laced with the color of a full moon.
"Didn't Viktor Krum attend that school?" I picked up the familiar voice of Crabbe.
I must have gotten lost in an obstruction of the image of remembering her eyes. I blinked, looked toward my hands, and loosened my grip.
"Oooh-" Her tone seemed mocking. "Draco in a fur cape."
"Oh-Come on Darling, like you wouldn't think I'd look good in their uniform."
I grit my teeth and without realizing I had stood, slammed my compartment door shut with a little bit of too much force. Heat raced across my cheeks, a twinge of shame in the pit of my stomach.
"Are you okay, brother?" Fred said calmly as he repaired the glass that shattered from the sliding door. His calmness only added to my embarrassment.
It was not like me to be so irritated. It was something about my tardiness, in finally returning her feelings toward me, and realizing I was too late, that angered me. How foolish I was to waste so much time trying to figure out how I felt, when it seems so clear now. How could I not have realized it sooner?
"Yes," my voice betrayed me, breaking as the anger simmered to melancholy.
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>>>>>
Before- before I knew she had moved on-I was so ready to return to Hogwarts. So impatient to see her and tell her, every emotion I struggled with when I thought of her. I hid in a niche in the cavernous entrance hall of the castle as Peeves, targeted students entering Hogwarts with red water balloons. For a short moment I wasn't thinking of her, my eyes cast around the large room, grinning at the unexpecting people hastily coming in. And then, as if on instinct, I found her, in the mass of black robes and dim lighting.
Has her smile always looked so...Spellbinding? I hadn't seen her since last year; she was standing next to Malfoy, laughing. Her lips stretched across her face so perfectly, the sight of her reminded me of one of those provocative muggle magazines Fred and I found in Charlie's room once. So perfect, so unreal, everything about those pictures were obviously altered in some way. But with her, she wasn't anything like those women, she was naturally beautiful.
She was lovely, it pained me to see her carrying on with someone else. My insides churned and jumbled up on each other; I inhaled, my breath skipping as it was forced into my lungs. If I told her anyway. If I had the courage Gryffindors were supposed to have, and tell her how I felt despite her having someone else. Would she forgive me? Would she understand I only distanced myself from her, because I was trying to sort out my feelings? That I didn't want to tell her I didn't know if I saw her as being nothing more than a friend; or not. That I didn't want to hurt her, if I didn't see her that way. But I in fact do. I do, and I know that now. So will that be enough? Will that be enough for her to forgive me for taking so long? Would my confession even mean anything to her now?
Surely, it wouldn't. Seeing how happy she looks...
My breath hitched again as I found her for a second time, from across the Great Hall. I'd never known the sensation of butterflies in one's stomach until now. Or at least I think that's what it was, my insides fluttered at the sight of her loveliness. My cheeks felt feverish and all I could see in that second was her. Was it possible for a person to get even more alluring each time you look at them? Somehow, something- everything- about them is more captivating than the last time you laid your eyes on them? Perhaps I was being melodramatic, but there was no denying, she was one of the prettiest girls in school. How foolish and blind I had been to have taken so long to notice...
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>>>>>
[You See It?...Don't You?]
From the hours of twilight, till the sun ebbed the darkness, I tossed and turned in my dorm. Every time I found myself conscious, I thought of her with Malfoy. All the ebullience I had collected over summer broke; recoiled and returned into unjustified exasperation. The depths of the vexation that plagued my emotions were- I'll admit- a bit theatrical. But is that not what jealousy is?
Yes. Jealous. I came to realize that's what I was feeling. Jealous, the word echoed in my head. Until it turned ugly. Envious that he had the bravery and the sureness of himself to tell her- to be with her. And I hated it. Hated myself. Hated, she looked at another. When had I ceased to be the one she was most fond of?
When I looked at her- thought of her-, I hated that she moved on. But how could I hate her? It was obvious my feelings were misplaced, but I couldn't help but let them linger close to my heart. I couldn't help but think a part of why I feel this way was her fault; if only she would have waited one more damned summer I could have confessed and we... It pained me to have even just a bit of abhorrence toward her, so when her eyes happened to meet mine, my expression was utter dejection. I wished she wouldn't look at me at all now. It vexed me that those eyes were no longer free to be claimed by me.- That she was taken by another. All because I took my sweet time, finding my way to her...
I felt unbalanced as I walked through the castle, I didn't bother to wait for my twin brother to wake up. I left the common room without him, wandering in no particular direction. Some people greeted me as I walked aimlessly through corridors, until I mechanically entered the library and the only people around were Ravenclaws with their heads engrossed in dusty books.
Almost reflexively, I hid behind a bookshelf when suddenly she was there. Sitting alone, sulfurously staring at some parchment in front of her. Both her hands were entangled in her brown hair, clutching it with frustration. She huffed irritatedly, and swiftly picked up her quill. I found her angry expression cute and a bit endearing. I smiled and the infuriated emotions I had been feeling because of her, dissolved. How can I feel anything but tenderness for her? In an instant, her quill snapped in half. She pressed her lips together and gripped the broken quill in her fist. I started to move toward her without thinking.
"Not off to a great start, this morning?" My voice was loud, I flushed with embarrassment.
She flinched at the sound; my breath got stuck in my windpipe.
"Woah," my mind went blank for a second. Her eyes made everything around me seem monotonous. Even nonexistent.
"George," she sighed, a hint of bewilderment in her tone.
My stomach churned, the sound of her saying my name sent a frenzy of some kind of stage fright running circles inside me. I looked away from her to compose myself, taking a seat across from her, resting my hands on the table between us.
"I was writing a letter to my dad. About a rather infuriating topic, if I'm being honest," she exhaled heavily at the end of her words.
I watched her as she brushed shredded parchment into her school bag. Intrigued to know which one of her fathers she was talking about. Surely she won't risk writing a letter addressed to Sirius Black in a public setting.
"And what would that be?" I wondered out loud.
Was that an acceptable question? I thought to myself. Are we still acquainted enough to ask personal things, like conversations exchanged between our parents and ourselves? She watched me for a prolonged minute, perhaps she was thinking the same thing I was. Contemplated whether or not I deserved this stolen alone time with her. Will she get up and leave? Will she tolerate just this moment with me, or will she depart to go find Malfoy? The smile I had strained to keep, started to fade at the latter thought.
"Harry actually," she pushed a single parchment in my direction.
A sigh of relief passed through my lips. She has decided to gift me this moment. I read the words quickly, only wanting to find her eyes once again. We are hardly this close, and when in Potions together she barely has the patience to look at me. I wanted to absorb as much of her as I could, before we were forced to go in our separate directions. From the contents of the letter her father-Remus- knows Harry and her are having a kind of fallout.
Simply put it was annoying.- Ron and Harry, holding a grudge against her for getting close to Malfoy. Sure I avoided her to have a moment to sort out my feelings. But they distance themselves because they strongly dislike that she's chummy with their old bully. But it was through them I was even able to befriend her, and without them to link our friendship. It's a bit complicated, to say the least... If it weren't for our Potions class I would have no chance to even just see her. Only, of course, in the Great Hall or at random times in the halls. But now that I know how I feel about her, that would have never been enough... We've been distant and her father knows.
"We have been distant, haven't we?"
I wanted to know her thoughts. If she was bothered by it. If she missed her friends. If she...missed me...
"It doesn't bother me." She said the words as if they shielded her.
Almost like she was trying to convince herself it was true, to avoid an internal ache. Or was I mistaken? I cringed as I realized she had me doubting myself. What is it about her, now? She makes me feel like I don't know how to be. Like she made me undone and I can't seem to know what is right anymore; she made all my thoughts unravel and infused herself in every one before putting them back together. Now I can't think straight without her.-With her near. I can't read her. She needs to tell me what she is thinking.-How to be.
But she can't- won't. Not now. Not after I selfishly avoided her. That's right...I didn't even consider how that would make her feel. Hell, I didn't even consider the idea she would find solace in her isolation, with someone else. I let my eyes fall from hers, the constant awareness she was someone else's, like razors to my heart each time I remembered.
"Of course it doesn't, because you spend most of your time with your boyfriend." I set my jaw, angered at myself for the sharp tone of voice.
"Idiot." I shouted internally to myself. How could I let my jealousy slip through?
"Boyfriend?" She crinkled her nose. "I don't have one."
"I thought, you and-"
"Draco?" She seemed to flinch at the mention of his name.
I raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
"Ew," She scoffed with a grin. "I find him repulsive."
"No-No," she said quickly and then took her letter from my hands.
"Draco-" she went on slowly. "As much as I hate to admit, is probably my closest friend."
"Oh," was all I could manage.
Oh, how elated I was to have been wrong this whole time. I writhed internally with utter bliss. I was overwhelmed with the sudden chance to confess to her. I could do it, here, now.
"Yeah," she smiled. "Why would you think we were?"
I remember the moment my heart shattered; on the Hogwarts Express when I was eavesdropping. But I would never admit to her I did such a thing. So I pointed out the obvious instead.
"I don't know." My back was stiff as I leaned into my chair, hoping she couldn't tell when someone was lying. "Just the way he is around you and how he calls you-" I paused, grimacing at the word I had heard him call her.
"Don't say it," her words overlapped mine.
"He only calls me that because he's a jerk and he knows I hate it."
"Oh," I said, looking downward.
"So, yeah,-" she sighed after a moment.
I looked back toward her.
"-I've got that letter to write."
"Uh-huh." I swallowed a gulp of air.
My lungs started to burn, and all I could do was stare into her silver eyes. My pulse beat loudly in my skull, my lips parted, and somehow I managed to breathe. How? How was I going to tell her? What if I mean nothing to her, now? What if she rejects me? Had she really liked me as much as I am fond of her now? If so, how did she go on so easily? Is it possible I fell harder than she could have ever imagined? Do I still appeal to her? Will she still have me? My chest felt tight and my eyes started to sting. Will she accept my feelings?- Accept me.