my inheritance (g.w x o.c)

chapter seventeen: sharing secrets

I followed him to a dark part of the lawn, behind one of the pillars.

"Is this the part where you turn out to be a killer?" I questioned as he reached into his bag.

"The night is young," he smiled, pulling out a piece of paper. "Let's sit." I watched him conjure up a bench before sitting down. He patted the seat beside him. "Take a load off." I smiled softly, sitting beside him. "Now remember, this is top secret information."

"Hasn't all of this been top secret?" I countered.

"Touche, Prince. This, however, is a completely different side of life."

"Let me guess. This is a business that you and a certain other Weasley are planning to start?"

"How did you..."

"I may or may not have paid attention to you in class before too, Mr. Weasley." I also have a talent for Legilimency.

He smirked, kissing me before opening up the papers he'd folded in half. "Number 93 Diagon Alley is up for sale, and we've got just enough to put our names on it. We put our bid in yesterday."

"Bloody hell," I gasped, taking the floor plans from him. They had it all planned out. The exterior, where the food pranks would go, the fireworks, even a place for Muggle tricks. "This is incredible."

"You like it?"

"Like it? I love it. This is amazing."

"We've moved things around so many times it's insane, but I think we've finally got it straightened out. I mean, we could still move the portable swamps over here and put the extendable ears over here or-"

"George," I interrupted with a smile. "This is insanely perfect."

"You think?"

"I know," I nodded. "Honestly, people need a good laugh right now with everything going on." I sighed, looking back at the paper. "And this..." I nodded. "This will make people smile."

"Would you want to go see it?" he asked, causing me to look back at him. "Assuming we get it, of course."

"You will. And I'd love to come see it," I promised.

"Perfect," he whispered, tilting my head up to kiss me. Once he pulled away, I looked back at the papers.

"This is quite an ambitious act," I pointed out, flipping back to the exterior. "One might say it would earn you a spot in Slytherin."

He hummed, resting an arm behind me. "We'd lead a very different life had I been sorted into Slytherin."

"Truly."

"For some of the things you do, I'd argue you don't belong in Slytherin. For instance, I somehow can talk to you whereas most Slytherins make me want to hex them."

"Oh, don't lie, you've considered it a few times."

He smiled. "Perhaps, however, your life would be a lot different if you were in Gryffindor."

"Oh, Gryffindor," I sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "My grandfather would die if I'd been sorted into Gryffindor."

"A Slytherin, I take it?"

"A very dedicated Slytherin," I added.

"You know, you don't talk much about your family or home. What's it like?"

At least now I was sure he didn't remember seeing the Mark of the Heir. I didn't speak for a moment, trying to decide what to say. "It's not very pretty. My mother and father left when I was young. I think they're dead now. So I was left to my grandfather. He's taken care of me, but he's rarely home anymore. Always out working with everything going on."