| Inked | (George Weasley)

Chapter Ninety-Four

"Olive, you know you can use magic now, right?"

Cleaning the entirety of 12 Grimmauld Place was not a fun task, with or without magic. Olive, who kept forgetting that she was allowed to use magic outside of school, often found herself spending way longer on chores than she needed to, doing them without the use of her wand.

She was mopping the kitchen floor, one of many chores that Mrs. Weasley had left for everyone to do in order to do their part while they stayed in Sirius's home. George stood in the doorway, careful not to step on the wet floor, watching her in amusement.

The girl looked up from the mop, resisting the urge to facepalm herself, "What if I told you... I forgot?"

George resisted the urge to laugh, watching her mop the last section of the floor, "You forgot?"

"Don't laugh at me, George Weasley."

"I'm not laughing!"

"You totally are!" She threatened to poke him with the soapy end of the mop as she carefully tip-toed over to him. He quickly threw his hands in the air, taking a few steps back to avoid getting the front of his shirt soaked in dirty, soapy floor water.

George's eyes flashed to the small bucket of water that sat on the other end of the kitchen. Olive followed his gaze, and quickly figured out what he was planning. However, he had the upper hand of being able to apparate, and within a second had the bucket in his hands.

"You wouldn't." Her laughter quickly died, her lips parting in surprise.

He looked down at the soapy water with a smirk, swirling the bucket around a few times as if contemplating his next move.

"Olls, I think you know that I would."

Before Olive could move, George took a step forward, splashing half of the bucket's contents out towards her. The Ravenclaw shrieked with laughter, slapping a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't disrupt the entire household.

Just before the water could touch her, it stopped in midair, swirling around the kitchen until it splashed back into the bucket.

Olive turned to see Mrs. Weasley in the door, her wand raised. Her other hand rested in a fist on her hip, lips pursed together as she stared down at George as if he had set off fireworks again in the den (while that was a pretty good birthday present, none of the adults living in 12 Grimmauld Place seemed to appreciate Silent Fireworks as much as Olive had the other night).

"George Fabian Weasley!" She scolded, walking over the newly mopped floor to thwack him over the head.

He stood like a soldier being yelled at by a drill sergeant, his shoulders slumping only slightly, his face remaining slack. Olive knew how much George did not like to piss off his mother, and when he did, took the punishments like a champ. There was no way he wouldn't do anything the woman asked of him for the rest of the day.

Not wanting to intrude on Molly scolding her boyfriend, Olive slowly backed out of the kitchen, setting the mop against the doorframe. She dusted off her hands on her jeans, sending a look back to George over her shoulder.

"- you try mopping this entire kitchen without magic and see how easy it is! In fact, I don't want you using magic for the rest of the day. You and your brother have been taking it for granted."

"Yes, mum."

"And then I want you to apologize to your poor girlfriend." Mrs. Weasley turned around to find Olive gone, though didn't seem at all phased. She turned back to George and motioned for him to get on with it.