Good Girl || George Weasley

19

Lunch is horribly awkward.

While I sit between the twins, per usual, George won't even look at me.

Why did I think that saying that would be a good idea? All I meant to get across is that I see Fred as nothing but my best friend, but I know exactly how George took it, because I would probably take it that way, too, if he said it to me. But then again, if he took it that way, considering he's clearly bothered by it, does that mean he really does fancy me?

But either way, Merlin. Why would I say that?

I ask Roger - who still has his books - if I can borrow a scrap of parchment. He nods, and as he's tearing a piece off, he shifts his eyes between George and I, giving me a quizzical look, but I just shake my head at him.

As I go to write a note to George, trying to figure out what to say, McGonagall approaches the Gryffindor table and says my name. I look up in surprise, as do all of my friends.

"When you're done eating, if you could report up to the fourth floor. The Daily Prophet is here to do an article on the champions."

"Oh. Sure," I say, and she moves down the table, presumably to talk to Harry, who looks rather gloomy, though I suppose I don't look much better.

I push my empty plate towards the center of the table, where it disappears, and I stand up.

"I'll see you lot later," I murmur, before walking off, and during a quick glance over my shoulder, I see Fred leaning across my now empty seat, whispering to George. Harry stands up from his seat and joins me, not saying anything to his friends.

"Hi, Harry," I greet him, as we exit the Great Hall. I can feel practically all eyes on us. "I meant to hunt you down sooner. How've you been?"

Harry shrugs. "Fine, I 'spose, if you don't count my best friend not speaking to me."

Ah. So that's what's going on. And I can understand the feeling. But I suppose Harry isn't in love with Ron, so it's a little different.

"Why isn't he speaking to you?" I ask, as we start up the first staircase.

"Hermione reckons he's jealous. Thinks that I'm lying and that I did enter the tournament, even though I've told everyone a million times that I didn't," Harry grumbles.

"He'll come around," I tell Harry, "After all, it's Ron. I've known him for years. He always comes around. I know it sucks, but if you need someone to talk to who isn't Hermione, I'm here."

Harry sighs. "Thanks, Katie. Really."

"Have you heard from, uh-" I glance around to make sure nobody is around, but even so, I lower my voice, "-Sirius?"

Sirius Black is Harry's godfather who also happened to be the most popular topic of conversation last year, when he broke out of Azkaban. Since only a handful of people know that he's actually innocent, he's currently in hiding, but I know him and Harry have been in contact.

Harry nods, also glancing around to check that nobody's around before leaning closer to me.

"Yeah. He just says I need to be careful. So I 'spose there's really nothing I can do except for try my best in the Tournament."

I nod. "I mean it when I said I've got your back, y'know," I remind him, as we finally reach the fourth floor corridor. It isn't hard to tell where we need to report, considering the amount of people hurriedly moving in and out of one particular classroom. "Something weird is definitely going on, and I want to get to the bottom of it. With you being chosen for the Tournament, and now the map, and-"