Sketchbook ~ George Weasley

Chapter 43 - Big Lies and Little Truths

I turn back to Hermione immediately, to which she gives me an apologetic look. I try to stop my panicked heart from bursting out at that moment. There's no possible way that they hadn't heard at least some of that confession.

"Hi, Hermione," Fred greets. There was the ghost of a smile on his face that I wanted to slap off.

"Paige," George adds, nodding but not looking me in the eyes.

Shit, I think. He knows, and he's completely weirded out by it and won't want to be friends with a weird girl who has a crush on him.

"Fred, George," I greet, trying to calm my nerves.

"Hermione," Fred speaks up first, leaning the palms of his hands onto the table where we sat. "We ran into Ron on the way here, and he said he was looking for you."

"He did?" Hermione asks. "He just left us to go to class, though."

"Oh, yeah, something about class," Fred says before winking in my direction. I glared up at him. He was lucky his brother couldn't see his face from this angle, or I would have already been ripping it off him. "I'll take you to him. George will help Paige here clean everything up."

"S-sure," Hermione says, looking between my glare and Fred's cheeky grin. I simply gave her a nod of acknowledgment, knowing that the conversation had to come sooner or later. Though, I would have preferred later.

She slipped away from her seat and wordlessly followed Fred out of the library, but not before giving me a stark look of pity as she walked out.

That left me alone with George. If I had thought the silence before when Harry was angry was ominous, this was ten times worse. My ears felt like they wanted to start eating themselves for the unbearable bleakness to go away.

"What were you two doing in the library?" I ask, standing up to be level with George. Well, as level as I could be with a beanstalk.

"Picking up a book for the candle potion," George says. He still hasn't looked me in the eyes. "I-I went with your idea, by the way."

"You did?" I ask, momentarily forgetting that shame I'd felt. I smiled up at him for a brief moment. He looked away immediately, frowning as his ears burned a bright red. I dropped my smile at his expression and turned to the scattered mess of books and parchment left on the table, starting to gather everything together. "I'm happy."

"You were right," George says, leaning over to help me. "It did seem more on brand."

I nodded absentmindedly as I shoved my quill back into my bag and stacked books. At one point, our hands brushed together as we reached for the same book. I immediately pulled my hand back, willing my face not to burn any brighter than it already was. George didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't show it. He simply continued to help me gather the books and parchment, working in silence for a few minutes before speaking again.

"Paige," he says, his voice low and serious. "About what you said earlier. In the library. To Hermione. About your. . .crush?"

My heart dropped, and I closed my eyes, wishing the floor would swallow me. In fact, I hoped a giant hand would come out of the sky and drag me far, far away. Therefore, I blurted out either the smartest or dumbest reply I could possibly think of. "It wasn't about you."

George paused for a moment, his face turning with confusion. "I know."

"What?" I say. There was so much certainty in his tone as if the thought of me liking him had never even occurred to him before that moment. There was so much certainty in it that I'm starting to think he may have never even liked me at all. Perhaps the others who thought he did have it wrong?