Invisible String//A George Weasley X OC Story

A Thread of Gold Tied Me to You

3626 Words

ELIZA'S POV:
This morning when I woke up, it wasn't because of my alarm; it was when the sunlight cut through the crease of my eyelids. forcing them apart. I admittedly did cover my face with the blankets to try and block any excess light. I fought with myself for a few short moments, trying to get myself out of bed. I nearly shrieked when I had made my realization that I hadn't been awoken by my alarm. This means one thing, I over-slept. Luckily it was a weekend, so there were no classes, however, that didn't mean I didn't have places to be. In fact, I was supposed to be in Hogsmeade thirty minutes ago with my friend, Angelina. We were meant to be shopping for Fred and George's birthday, tomorrow. The twins were no doubt taking advantage of the weekend and sleeping in.

As soon as I became aware of the situation, I catapulted myself into an upwards position frantically looking around to find one thing. My alarm clock unplugged. This was no accident, the outlet my alarm clock was plugged into and the cord following it were both strategically placed behind my heavy-weighted night table; which just-so-happened to be scooted out a modicum amount. Who could've done this? I shared a room with Angelina, Katie, and Jenna.

Angelina had no reason to not want me out shopping for Fred and George's presents. She knows I've had a crush on George since first year and I want to get him something special this year. I want to tell him how I feel.

     Katie is not a close friend, but I trust her, and I know she has better things to do than unplug my alarm clock.

All of my roommates know my situation with George and how excited I was to go shopping today. Why would any of them do this? Then it crossed my mind. It had to be Jenna. Ever since I told the room I was in love with George, she's been staring daggers at me. I'm not the only one who's noticed either. Every now and then someone will acknowledge the way she treats me.

I quickly jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I grabbed my toothbrush and got it wet under the flow of the water from the sink faucet. I squeezed a small amount of toothpaste on the pliant bristles and placed it in my mouth. I closed my mouth tightly to hold the brush in place as a I used my hands to pull down my pants to sit on the toilet. I stared at nothing whilst brushing my teeth sitting down. As I was staring, I noticed something.
The letters George would write me over the summer lazily stuck under Jenna's bed, the corners of the multi-colored envelopes poking out from the bed skirt. I still have the letters all the way back from the summer after our first year. Errol would always make a ruckus when I'd get my responses back from George. My mind involuntarily flashed back to all the times I would await his response; sitting in the yellow light of my desk lamp in my small room back in my tight-knit muggle neighborhood.

     I held the toothbrush tight in my moth again as I stood from the toilet seat and pulled my pants up. I flushed, spit in the sink, and put the toothbrush back in my mouth, walking over to Jenna's bed, kneeling down beside it and sticking my hand underneath. I grabbed ahold of the letters and rotated the stack in my hand making sure I still had all of them. I was pleased to see that I did. I know this was no accident either. Why did Jenna want my letters from George? What made her want them enough to steal them? These were personal, this was a violation. Could this be how my alarm clock got unplugged? After all, these letters were in the very back of the bottom drawer in my night table. I wouldn't put it past her, withal, I don't see how unplugging my alarm clock or stealing my letters could have benefited her.

     I decided I should finish getting ready and pay a revisit to the matter later. I place the letters in the bottom of my dowry chest, under my shoes, and pray they'll be safe there. After my toothbrush is rinsed, I slip out of my pj's and into my loose-fitting-jeans, a light grey under-shirt, and a black graphic tee on top with my black high-topped Converse. I brush my shoulder-length, dirty blond hair, and put it half-up-half-down with a small claw-clip. As I walk out the door, I am hoping Angelina won't be too mad. Knowing her, she's wondered her way into a clothing store after she grew tired of waiting for me.