Before the Dawn | George Weasley

42

Umbridge's first day as Headmistress was the beginning of the end of my time at Hogwarts.

I held Quidditch practice in the morning as per usual, but felt my interest in the game slipping. 

Gryffindor's team had suffered in the wake of their loss of half of their team, their replacements inexperienced and Angelina's patience reaching its end. They'd lost to Ravenclaw and played us next, a match I was confident we'd win.

If we won we'd play Hufflepuff, and if we won that, we'd face Ravenclaw again for the Cup.

But even the prospect of winning the House Cup in my final year didn't excite me as much as it should have. My interest in school was slipping away, my anticipation of life after Hogwarts rapidly gaining tread in my priorities and the looming threat of an impending war weighing heavily on my conscience. 

George seemed to be the only one to notice my preoccupation. He tried his best to cheer me up, keep me distracted, but it was difficult when we couldn't be seen in public together, forced to stay in the shadows and pretend like none of it was happening.

He nabbed me in a corridor outside of the Charms classroom one day, pulling me into an empty nook that was shielded from view and peppering my face with kisses.

"Hello, gorgeous," he murmured, a mischievous light in his eyes.

"George," I laughed quietly, pushing him away. "We can't—someone might find us—"

"Let them," he said simply, leaning in to kiss me again with that winning smile of his.

I put my hands on his chest, holding him at arm's length. "Not yet."

He let out a whine and leaned against me with his entire body weight. I giggled, caving and allowing him to kiss me again, his arms wrapping around my waist.

"What's the occasion?" I murmured against his lips.

"Don't need an occasion," he chuckled. "I love you."

I grinned, unsure if I'd ever get used to hearing that. "And I love you."

His eyes lingered on my smile. "You have lovely teeth."

I laughed breathlessly. "Thanks to you! Madame Pomfrey grew them back straighter than they were before, bless her."

He echoed my laughter, then froze, staring over my shoulder. I turned to see a Gryffindor fourth-year standing there, watching us with wide eyes. We held her stare, frozen in place with George's arms still around me.

"Get her?" I murmured.

"Get her," George muttered.

We all moved at the same time. 

George released me, and I drew my wand just as the girl turned to run. Before she made it through the doorway, I'd turned the stone floor beneath her feet to quicksand, and she let out a squeak as she began to sink.

"Finite." The girl stopped sinking. 

She stared up at us, irritated and knee-deep in stone. "Was this necessary?"

"It was this or a body-binding jinx. Why'd you run?" I asked coolly.

"Because you pulled your wand on me, you Slytherin cow!"

"Oi, Robbins, watch it," snapped George. "That's my girlfriend you're talking to, and she knows quite a few creative hexes."

A sly grin spread across the girl's face. "So it's true about you two. I thought Creevey was lying."