Felix Felicis- A George Weasley and Adrian Pucey Love Triangle

22. Up in the Air

I sit in the tall stands with Hermione. She and I joke about my stolen sweater, making my cheeks burn. The girls around us in the stands look on and whisper, clearly still spreading rumors about whatever they could think up.

Finally, the cannon is set off, and the game starts. Both teams are on their brooms, and the tension is thick. I try my best to pay attention to everything that is happening in the air, but my attention keeps getting pulled to two boys.

George is flying gracefully, perfectly in sync with his twin. Every swing of his bat, every single dive is calculated. He looks amazing, the wind blowing through his hair and his muscles contracting under his jersey.

My eyes fly to the dark-haired boy on the opposing team. No matter how graceful George seemed, Adrian seems even swifter. He glides through the air with ease, catching the quaffle and passing it to his teammates with what looks like no effort. His chiseled jawline is apparent even from my position in the stands.

Lee is the commentator for every quidditch match we have, and the bass of his booming voice rattles me to my bones. He praises the Gryffindor team constantly, sliding in some snide remarks against our competitors.

In the corner of my peripheral vision, I see George and Fred flying closely together, deep in conversation.

A second before they break apart, my heart drops. Were they planning on attacking Adrian? I force myself to tear away from my thoughts. I am on the edge of my seat, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Someone scores, but I do not know which team is awarded the points. My head is swimming with thoughts.

Suddenly, Adrian is in front of me, his back turned to the game. He tosses the quaffle casually in between his hands.

"This is for you, gorgeous," He calls out, before flying back into the center of the pitch and throwing the quaffle over his head, making a goal. I glance over to George, whose face is completely red. Him and Fred exchange another glance, and the pit in my stomach grows tenfold.

Hermione tugs my arm, asking, "What the hell was he on about? Doesn't he know you're with-"

"I haven't got the slightest clue," I interrupt her, my cheeks burning.

The game continues, both teams scoring back and forth. Suddenly, the crowd is screaming. I quickly realize these are not cheers, but screams of fear. My eyes quickly scan the pitch, looking for the source of dismay.

A mess of red hair is falling from the sky, his bat still held tightly in his hand. He lands on the ground with a large thud, and my heart stops.

--

I stand at the door of the infirmary, terror ripping my heart into small pieces. Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse, hasn't allowed anyone to enter or leave the hospital wing. Hermione, and Ginny stand with me, holding my hands. Lee is pacing the corridor.

We don't know which brother was hurt, as they are both locked in the infirmary with the rest of the Gryffindor team. Whoever took the fall fell well over fifty feet; even with magic it was a dangerous road to recovery.

"Mason?" A deep voice asks quietly behind me.

I turn and find Adrian standing there, sweaty and upset, still in his quidditch uniform. He walks up to me, and my friends gather around me protectively.

"Bugger off, Pucey!" Lee shouts, shaking with anger.

"Lee, please, don't shout at him." My nerves were already on end, anxiety filling me entirely.

"Mira, we don't know what happened. I asked my whole team, everyone's sworn they didn't hex him." He pleads, looking directly at me.

"Who? Do you know who fell?" Ginny asks, a hint of defensiveness in her throat.

"We couldn't tell." He states, no emotion in his voice. My throat begins to itch; my eyes begin to burn.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Adrian continues. He takes a small step forward, wanting to comfort me. Hermione wraps her arms around me instead, allowing me to cry into her shoulder.

"It's best if you go now," Lee growls. I don't look up, but I can hear Adrian's steps as he backs away from us. The group is silent, a light awkwardness upon us as I dry my eyes.

It feels like eons pass while we wait in the corridor. Finally, the door to the hospital wing opens. The entire Gryffindor team shuffles out, tears in their eyes. My heart drops, looking at each one pass, but not seeing a tall redhead. I step into the doorway and see a tall figure hunched over a bed, but I still can't make out who it is.

I take a quiet step into the infirmary, scared to see who lays in the bed, broken. My feet move on their own, slowly pushing me forward towards the bed. Only a few meters from the boys, the tall figure turns to me. He straightens and runs to me, pulling me into his arms.

"Oh, Mira! It's Fred. He's broken his entire right side. It's going to take days to heal properly. He was in so much pain; Madam Pomfrey had to knock him out."

I shake. George was okay. I hug him tightly, sobbing in his arms, lamenting over my dear friend being in so much pain.

"W-What h-happened to h-him?" I gasp between sobs.

"He was trying to hit a bludger at- I mean, just hit it. But it veered the wrong way. He got hit right in the shoulder and it knocked him off. Just like when you fell this summer," He whispers in a sad tone.

"Just fifty feet higher than you had been," Ginny answer cooly. I reach out and hold her hand. We stand like this for a minute, looking over and Fred's broken, sleeping body as the nurse casts spells on him in an attempt to heal him.

Madam Pomfrey kicks us out of the infirmary, and we shuffle to the common room in silence. The common room is cold; the energy is considerably dark. Although we are surrounded by our friends, George holds me closely without regard. I haven't been able to stop shaking since I first held him.

Ron walks over to me, handing me a small vial. He tells me to drink up, that it will make me feel better. I quickly take the vial and it burns my throat as I swallow its contents. In an instant my body is relaxed; My mind fuzzes over and my anxiety is quelled.

"Nothing a little firewhiskey can't fix" George winks, trying to joke to ease my worries.

Lee sits on the arm of the couch, next to George. He whispers something in George's ear, something that makes his jaw clench.

George nods then loudly says, "We'll wait for Fred to heal. He'll want to be there."

"Be where, Georgie?" I ask, my mind fuzzy.

"Nowhere, darling. Don't you worry your pretty little head." He whispers, sending shivers down my spine. "Why don't we get you to bed?" He asks. I try to stand, but my legs wobble. I realize I hadn't eaten since breakfast, and the firewhiskey mixed with my nerves from the day had taken a toll on my body.

George picks me up, cradling me in his arms. He begins to move toward the staircase towards his bed, but I ask him to stop.

"Not there," I whisper in his ear, placing a hand lightly on his chest. "I don't want to see his empty bed." Tears well in my eyes.

"You know I can't carry you to your own bed, I can't get up there." He says, matter-of-factly.

"I know. I don't want to go there either."

"Then where do you propose we go, dear?"

I take a deep breath. Mustering up the courage, I swallow before telling him where I want to go.

"The seventh floor. That special room. Please?" I ask meekly. Something glints in George's eyes.

"Are you sure?" He whispers back. I nod slowly. He sighs, then turns around and exits the common room without a word to the others.