Secrets Only Trouble Knows - George Weasley

25 - Bloody Knuckles

{ A/N:
* TW for the second half of the chapter*
- Mention of unwanted attention/close proximity from a male.
- Violence

"TW BEGINS" and "TW ENDS" are given so that if you don't think you are comfortable reading further you can skip. }

-

Nova's POV

About a week had gone by since the day George and I had got caught in the rain by the Black Lake together.

Tried though I might, I couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. Or the conversation I'd had about it with Callie afterward. I had seriously hoped once I'd gotten some of the things I was thinking and feeling off my chest to her, things would go back to normal and it would be like nothing had changed at all. However, I'd been incredibly naive to think that would be the case. Callie refused to let me never talk about the subject ever again or pretend what I'd admitted to having experienced with George never happened. In fact, she pestered me about it any chance she got and began to constantly point out what she considered to be "evidence" that George fancied me himself.

While I knew she meant well, and just wanted me to be happy with someone, it was incredibly overwhelming. It was a lot of pressure. I was still so confused about my feelings.

Everything I had said about George had been true. There was no denying any longer that I was intrigued by him. But I just couldn't fathom that he and I could ever be something more. It felt simply unattainable and frankly like a ridiculous idea. Two people who both wanted the other dead in the past couldn't possibly wind up fancying each other. There was just no way. Too much history. And even though Callie tried to argue that the way George treats me is because he does like me, I was just unable to entertain the thought myself. Not when he was clearly such a flirt naturally and had a long list of girls lining up for him he'd probably much rather be out for.

In my eyes, no other narrative than what was in my own brain was right. No matter how hard Callie tried to tell me otherwise, I couldn't believe anything other than George Weasley was just toying with me because that's just what he did with girls. All of them. It wasn't that I was special. It wasn't that he was into me like that. He was just a harmless tease. And I knew that because he didn't try very hard to hide it. Not in the halls when he leant against the wall and complimented a pretty brunette girl's lipstick she was wearing. Not in the common room when he sat on the couch with his arm around a dumb-looking blonde he'd brought up from Hufflepuff and explained to her the grueling nature of Quidditch, much to her amazement.

He did this with everyone. He and I were nothing more than friends and never would be. And if I wanted to have him in my life now, that came with putting up with his charisma and brushing off his behavior as just being fun because that's just who he was.

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On Thursday afternoon, after my classes had concluded for the day, I was heading to the library to work on some homework before it was time for dinner. I'd just walked into the entrance hall when I heard an unexpected voice call out to me.

"Nova! Wait!"

I looked up and found it was none other than Cedric Diggory trying to catch my attention from the top of the grand staircase.

Cedric was a Hufflepuff in my year. He was quite kind but reserved from the limited interactions I'd had with him. We'd only talked a few times when working on projects together, but I liked him well enough.