More Than Heart Could Desire 《 A George Weasley Love Story 》

Chapter#5 A Certain Beater

NARRATOR'S POV:

George Weasley sat cross-legged on the floor of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, surrounded by a chaos of half-finished dungbombs, firecrackers, and suspiciously fizzing vials. Fred was hard at work beside him, hands flying, humming some tuneless melody as though explosions were the most natural thing in the world.

George, however, was barely present.

His fingers moved out of habit, stuffing powder where it ought to go, sealing lids he barely remembered picking up, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

Anna.

She slipped into his thoughts the way sunlight slipped through the tall tower windows, uninvited, warm, impossible to ignore. She was clever without being sharp about it, kind without ever showing off. There was something quietly graceful about her, something pure, as though the world hadn't yet managed to roughen her edges. She laughed easily, cared deeply, and Merlin help him...she was beautiful.

Too beautiful.

'What if I told her?'

The thought alone made his stomach twist. What if she smiled kindly and said she only saw him as a friend? Worse...what if it changed everything? Their late-night talks, the shared jokes, the comfortable closeness that felt like home. George couldn't bear the idea of losing that. Couldn't bear the thought of being the one who broke something so rare.

He was dragged back to the room with a sharp nudge to the ribs.

Fred elbowed him, grinning like a cat who'd just spotted a canary.
"Blimey, Georgie. You've got that look again".

George blinked. "What look?".

"The Anna look", Fred said smugly. "Bit dreamy. Bit tragic. Thinking about her, yeah?",

"No.....", George started, then faltered, shoulders sagging. "Alright. Yes".

Fred's grin softened as he clapped a hand on George's shoulder. "Honestly, mate. Why don't you just tell her? It's plain as day you like her".

George let out a slow breath. "I do like her. I really do. But... she's brilliant, Fred. Properly brilliant. And she's....well....look at her. I don't even know how she feels about me".

Fred scoffed. "Oh, come off it. She fancies you. The way she looks at you? That's not just friendly. You don't get looked at like that by accident".

"Or", George said quietly, "she just sees me as a friend. And if I say something and ruin that...", He shook his head. "I don't have much to offer someone like her".

Fred stared at him like he'd just said the most ridiculous thing imaginable.
"George Weasley", he said firmly, "she's our Anna. She doesn't care about grand gestures or shiny nonsense. She cares about heart. And if you don't have one of the biggest, I'll volunteer for Filch's next detention".

George huffed a weak laugh, then looked down. "What if I lose her?".

"You won't", Fred said without hesitation. "And if you do nothing, you might lose her anyway".

George didn't reply. He just rubbed his face with both hands and fell back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling while the same thoughts chased each other round and round his head.

After a moment, Fred stood and began tidying up.
"Right. Enough sulking. Let's go".

George lifted his head. "Where?".

"Quidditch practice. Wood'll have our heads if we don't show".

They left the dormitory together, descending into the common room where the fire crackled low. Anna sat curled in an armchair, Chocolate sprawled contentedly in her lap as she stroked her absentmindedly.