for now. [george weasley]

chapter thirty-one: weasley is our king

"HARRY," ANGELINA SAID, APPROACHING THE BOY before the lesson started, "remember we have a game tomorrow. Let's not be too late, 'Kay?"

"You got it, Angie," he nodded. "Alright, everyone, settle in!" The normal chatter came to a halt, and he smiled awkwardly. "Right. Today, I thought we could start on stunning spells," he announced, clapping his hands together. "Collins, if you please?"

Collins shuffled her way to the front of the room, shoving into Fred and George as they snickered at her. She and George had stuck to their guns about pretending that night had never happened. They weren't as...touchy, as they typically were, but nothing too rash had happened.

"One of the most commonly known stunning spells in stupefy," she explained, standing next to Harry at the front of the room.

"Oh, so you're an educator now, too, McKinnon?" Roger Davies quipped.

"No, but I was the captain of my dueling team at Beauxbatons, and I won't hesitate to prove myself to you if that's what you really want," she retorted, crossing her arms with her head held high. Roger held his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. "Anyway," she sneered in his direction, "stupefying someone can be comparable to what some of you may know as tasing them."

"What, like policemen do?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Exactly. Mick, a demonstration?"

Collins smirked at her cousin. "You sure you're ready to go toe-to-toe with me, Pots?"

"Show her how it's done, Harry!" Fred hollered.

"Show her who's boss, Harry!" Lee laughed.

Harry flushed, glancing up in embarrassment at her. "Let's just get it over with," he huffed.

Collins snorted, following the formal dueling procedures she had been taught. Ten paces, turn, three-count, flourish.

Harry had a tell for when he was about to cast. He would turn his wand once between his fingers before citing the incantation.

"Stupefy!" Collins shot, and before Harry could brace himself, he had crashed into one of the training dummies, and then into the mirrored wall.

"Brilliant," he wheezed, allowing Ron to pull him to his feet.

Collins smirked, brushing a piece of dust off his sweater. "Well flown, my boy."

Harry made a face at her before turning to Ron, "you next, mate."

Ron squeaked, looking at Collins in fright. She rolled her eyes, "Not me, you numpty. You and Hermione."

He sighed in relief, smiling arrogantly over at her. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

"Right," she deadpanned disbelievingly.

Collins positioned herself in between George and Ginny, tossing an arm around her shoulder. "Hi, Weaslette."

"Hi, Mick," Ginny smiled.

"One sickle," Fred whispered to George.

"You're on," the latter snickered.

Ron had barely opened his mouth to speak before Hermione put him on his ass. All of the girls came rushing over to praise her, while he waddled awkwardly back to the others.

"I let her do that," he muttered. Fred huffed in agitation, slapping a sickle into a grinning George's hand. "It's good manners."

"Oh, yeah, Ronnie," George nodded, overplaying his understanding. "Sure is." Collins snorted.