George Weasley x Reader ~ Jaffa Cake

29 - Detention

'George!'

You woke with a start, eyes watering and mouth tasting strange, feeling slightly ropey. The sun was shining delicately through the single glazed windows, illuminating a thin path of little dancing groups of dust floating through mid-air. It took you a moment to register what the day was - Friday, 18th June - and the time was.. well, it wasn't exactly early. Which meant that, at that very moment, you were missing Charms.

Sitting up with your hands by your sides, you couldn't stop yourself feeling a bit helpless. The sun was warm, there was a distant cooing emitting from some owls in the distance, and a class you were supposed to be present in was taking place at that very moment. Enough was enough, you decided, so you clenched your fists and carefully stood up, cautious of the events that occurred a few hours ago. There was a note on the bedside table, illuminated by the beam of sunlight, which left a little green blob burnt into your retinas. It was fairly hard to ignore, so you picked it up and read it.

Pomfrey seen you. You should've seen your face when she was there, it was priceless! She says the bug isn't contagious, you just had a moment - surprising how common it is, apparently. Told me to wait as long as I could in case you woke up and to leave a note if you didn't. Skipped breakfast only for you not to wake up. You'll pay for this.

I'm joking. Get to class if you wake up. Also, we need to talk.

Much love,
G x

You couldn't help but giggle at the note, at the same time as shiver a little. Also, we need to talk. That made you quite a bit nervous even though you were certain that your relationship with George was stable. But then again, anyone who saw the words 'we need to talk' and didn't freak out... well, they probably weren't so stable themselves. Equipped with a new found raging passion to get to class as soon as possible, you pressed the note into the nearest drawer and began your journey to the bathroom to carry out your late morning routine.

A couple minutes later, you found yourself walking increasingly slower than usual towards Professor Flitwick's classroom, questions bouncing around in your mind as your leather shoes tapped on the flagstones beneath you. Does he even know the reason I'm late? Will he sympathise? He's usually nice, surely he won't mind? What if I get a detention? I guess I'll have to explain my way out. But-

Your thoughts were put to a stop when you realised you'd made it to the door and, as if on command, had pushed it open. More direct sunlight flitting through the windows hit you straight in the eyes and you squinted obviously, jerking your head to the side and letting go of the door, which very unhelpfully slammed - doing a roaring good job of drawing the whole class' attention right to you. Great.

Professor Flitwick, with his arms poised in the air and a cushion in one hand, eyed you up and down suspiciously before smiling warmly, gesturing towards your seat. You could feel your face growing slightly red, but you did your best to conceal it, shuffling quietly towards where he was gesturing in the back next to Blaise. It was blatantly obvious that Flitwick was about to direct a comment at you, so you inhaled stiffly and prepared yourself for impact.

Three... two... one...

'Miss l/n', Flitwick chirped brightly from the very rickety stack of books he was standing on. You straightened your back and made eye contact with the Professor as he waited for a reply.

'Yeah, Professor?' you answered, busying yourself by moving your books around aimlessly.

'You're really quite late. You know that, I assume?'

You raised your eyebrows and cocked your head to the side ever so slightly,

'Uh... yes, I think it would be weird if I didn't notice. But I have a reason for it-'