𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ━━━━━━━
IN WHICH Clover Carstairs'
sixth year is filled to the
brim with new found
friends and a rather
peculiar tournament.
[george weasley x OC]
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☆
CLOVER SHEEPISHLY SMILED AT THE BOY whose hands lingered on the tops of her shoulders. Looking up into the face of George Weasley, Clover's head tilted, her smile growing as it inched its way across her features as she faced the tall boy, his eyes gleaming with the mischievous glint they always seemed to carry.
"Why is it that you always witness me falling?" the girl mused, as George snickered, his hands still firmly planted on her shoulders.
"I don't know, but let's just say it's lucky that I always catch you."
Clover laughed heartily, as the boy's hands fell from her shoulders, dropping to his sides. The laughter faded and the two lingered in a moment of silence as they awkwardly glanced around.
"So...you here alone?" George questioned, leaning back against a seat behind him.
"No, I, uh...forgot my coat." The girl awkwardly gestured to her jacket. "I'm about to head off to Honeydukes to meet my friends. Uh...What about you? Here alone?"
"Nah," George answered, shaking his head. "I pulled the short straw and got stuck paying for butterbeer while Fred and Lee went ahead to Zonkos."
"Well, I could wait with you if you'd like?"
George tilted his head, a small smile creeping its way onto his face. "Uh, yeah sure," he answered, keeping his voice as casual as possible. The boy fished a few loose coins from his pocket, turning around to pay for the drinks, whilst Clover glanced around the pub.
"Right," the boy began, gathering his leftover change from Rosemerta, "Should we go?" Clover responded with an eager nod and soon the two were emerging from the warm pub back out into the nippy streets of Hogsmede.
"So, how are you holding up?" George questioned, motioning to his head as the girl groaned.
"Whoever said Firewhiskey was worth it- they're wrong," Clover stated, "My head feels like it's being run over and it doesn't help that Hugo woke us up at the crack of dawn to come down here."
"If it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one suffering," The boy pointed out a small cluster of fourth-year students whose green-tinged faces were visible from a mile away. They all looked like they'd faced death and were now walking the stairs to hell. At the sight of the hungover bunch, Clover couldn't help but let out a small giggle of amusement.
"I feel horrible for laughing," She spluttered, "-But there's something so entertaining about seeing people look the way you feel...oh Merlin, that sounds so mean."
"Woah, Miss Carstairs has a mean side?" George teased incredulously, "Should I start calling you 'the big, bad Hufflepuff' now?"
