George Weasley x Reader ~ Jaffa Cake

22 - Butterbeer

TW: Very mild mention of drugs.

You took in the nervous look that was painted on Harry's face, and softened your expression.

'You're you, and this is a part of you', you told him gently. 'I'm so proud of you. I appreciate that I'm someone you're comfortable around, it means the world to me Harry. I will always support you.'

Harry's nervous facial expression seemed to diminish a lot, and he smiled at you thankfully. 

'I knew you were someone I could trust,' he said, looking at the ground with the smile still on his face. 'Thank you.' 

Smiling back at him, you both stood up and you pulled him into a warm hug. It meant so much to you that Harry trusted you with his identity, and you knew that you would always support him no matter what. A small feeling inside you lingered - the assumption you made about Cho earlier that day had slowly began to make you feel guilty - but nonetheless you gripped Harry tightly for another few seconds, before eventually letting go. 

'I hope you know this doesn't change anything in regards to our friendship', you said to Harry as he rubbed the side of his face. 'But I do hope you know that you're gonna have to gossip with me about guys.'

Upon hearing this, Harry stopped rubbing the side of his face and began to rub his temples whilst smiling absentmindedly. 

'How could I say no?' 

-

'Well my dad used to brew his own Butterbeer, so he gave me that. I never had the genuine stuff.' 

It was a mild Saturday in early March, and you were trudging with Ginny and Hermione towards the Castle's exit, followed closely by Harry and Ron. Since this day was a Hogsmeade weekend trip, you had all decided to go as a group, and the first thing on your to do list was getting a genuine pint of Butterbeer. 

'You've never had actual Butterbeer?' Ginny gasped, her eyes wide. 'You're joking.' 

Shaking your head, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a thin piece of paper, which appeared to have moving people on it. You passed it to Ginny. In the photo sat your father, your mother, your sister and yourself all around a large table. There was a sizeable wooden barrel sitting on a mantlepiece, surrounded by a couple of glossy Lager glasses with thick handles which were thoroughly cleaned. You were all holding full glasses of what looked like warm home-brewed Butterbeer, as well as smiling and enjoying yourselves. Ginny passed the picture to Hermione, who looked a little emotional as she took in how happy you all looked sitting together, before giving back to you. You looked at the picture and stared sadly at your sister whom you hadn't seen in 4 years, she was smiling directly into the camera, which tugged at your heartstrings a little bit - you really did miss her, and also had no idea how Cho knew about her. Those thoughts were soon interrupted, however, when Ron suddenly snatched the picture from your hands and inspected it closely. 

'Ron!' Hermione scolded him. 'Give it back to y/n.' 

Ron stared coldly at Hermione and tried to pass the picture to Harry, who took it and almost immediately gave it back to you. 

'Thanks Harry', you took the picture and placed it back safely into your pocket. 'Before you ask, yes Ron, that was my family.' 

Ron looked at you with his mouth agape, clearly wondering how you'd just guessed exactly what he was going to ask. He began to move his mouth as if he was about to ask a question, but seemed to decide against doing so as you said nothing more. Ginny quickly changed the subject and you all made your way to the Three Broomsticks, laughing loudly and discussing what had happened to Gilderoy Lockhart after that year when he had accidentally wiped his own memory in the presence of Harry and Ron. Since the air was humid, you were all wearing casual clothes - thankfully, no coats or scarves were necessary which made for less of a hassle. Finally, after the discussion had turned from Lockhart to Quidditch, you made it to the pub. Ron and Harry entered first, followed by you, then Hermione, then Ginny, and almost immediately upon entering you were hit by the sudden change in temperature - it was a bit strange, the air going from humid to properly warm. The pub was very tightly crowded, and a smoky scent lingered in the air, but it was still welcoming and clean. Leading the way, the boys found a table for five and you all sat down, allowing the comfortable atmosphere to swallow you. You looked over to the bar where a large mirror stretched across its diameter, reflecting the cosiness of the pub and the colours gleaming off the different tonics and syrups that were available to drink.