𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 | g. w

1. left unanswered

I've been in love with George Weasley for as long as I can remember.

Ever since we went swimming in the pond near the Burrow when we were little and I beat him at underwater handstands.

Ever since he kissed me under the moonlight when we were twelve (mind you it was a dare brought on by his twin, Fred).

Ever since he spent his birthday in the hospital wing with me when I broke my arm training for quidditch tryouts in year two.

(For obvious reasons, I didn't make the team).

Yes, I've been hopelessly and irrevocably in love with my best friend for what seems like forever, and I don't know how to get rid of these feelings. And believe me, I've tried.

I've tried to push them away, to pretend as if they weren't there when it's obvious to both Fred and Alfred (my other best friend and a royal pain in my ass) that they are.

They all know if my feelings, and they've tried to get me to confess them, but each time I get even remotely close to doing so, I freeze. I shut down. It's as if my motor functions have completely stopped working, and I'm left a stuttering mess.

God. George most think I'm so weird.

And its not like I've made it painfully obvious that I love him. No, I'd like to think I've done quite a good job at playing it off as pure friendship, no matter what Fred or Alfie or anyone else says.

Still, I can't help but wonder what goes on in that pretty little mind of his each time he lets me play with his hair when I'm nervous, or when he hugs me and I breathe in his scent and it gets me all flustered.

Does he notice?

Has he figured out why I tend to act differently when it's just the two of us?

Because it wasn't until recently that my feelings became too much to bare.

I've always loved George, I've always been in love with him, but it wasn't until last year that I realized to what extent my feelings go.

—-

"MIA, get your lazy bum up or we'll miss the  bloody train!".

I'm awakened by the sound of my mother shouting bloody murder from downstairs. The rising sun seeps in through the curtains, stinging my already bloodshot eyes.

I've not slept a wink last night, I couldn't. I've been too nervous and too excited to go back to school again. To Hogwarts.

You see, I'm a witch, and a thumping good one I might add. I actually managed to get myself eleven owls last year, though I have absolutely no idea how I managed that. Especially what with everything going on with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It's a surprise I even managed to find time to study for them at all.

I found out early on about my powers. I guess you could say I've been raised in that world, and since both my parents are magic, I knew a lot about it from an early age.

My name is Mia and I'm sixteen years old. I live with my mum and dad in a small village just south of London. I'm an only child, and though I sometimes wished for a younger sibling growing up, I'm quite content being a lone wolf. It's kind of what I'm known for, after all. The only exception to the rule being my basketball case of a best friend Alfie. He really is the best friend a girl could wish for, and I often find myself wondering why he's never been in a relationship. I mean come on, the guys clearly a catch!

Then there's Fred and George. The Weasley twins. Don't get me stared on those two.

They are both famous around school for pulling pranks on teachers and students alike, and if it weren't for them, I probably wouldn't have gotten out of my shell as much as I have the last couple of years.

I love both of them to bits, and as much as it hurts to say that I'm convinced George could never feel for me as I do him, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love them both to death, and they've always made me feel seem, heard and appreciated.

Besides, I'd much rather have George as a friend than not have him at all.

"Coming mum!", I shout, still pretty much half asleep. I groan as I get out of the comforts of my bed, getting ready for the day.

After much consideration and spending nearly half an hour of choosing an outfit for today, I finally managed to pick out a white polo shirt and a pair of black high-waisted flares last night. After putting all of it in and running a comb through my thick blonde hair, I make my way downstairs.

"Finally", my mother exclaims, giving me a tight lipped smile as she takes notice of my presence. She's preparing some eggs and sausage for breakfast, while my dad is reading ta copy of The Quibbler. My dad is best friends with Xenophilius Lovegood and so as a way to show his support, he's taken to subscribing to his news paper, reading it each morning. "I was beginning to think you'd died in your sleep last night".

Wow mum. Morbid, much?

"So... Are you excited for your sixth year?", my dad asks, looking at me from beneath his round glasses.

I smile. "Of course!", I let out a loud squeak, startling my mum. Then I start going on about how happy I am that I'm about to see Fred, George, and Alfie.

I guess I'm one of the lucky ones. I managed to make friends with the twins, despite them being a year above me. They are starting their seventh and final year today, while I'll still have one more to go.

Then again, I guess you could say it wasn't so much the case of me making friends with them. Not when they are the ones who continued to annoy me until I agreed to be friends with them.

Gosh. I can't wait to see them again. I haven't spoken to either one of my friends all summer. They haven't answered any of my letters.

I'll have to ask them about it when I see them.