the order - f.weasley

- c h a p t e r - s i x t e e n -

 Hermione had attempted to drag Gemma out of bed the following day as George had asked for her help after lunch, but the auburn-haired girl was not having it.

She refused to get up and instead burrowed further into the blankets and pillow nest she had made last night.

Scotch was curled up in the crook of Gemma's neck, enjoying the warmth, and Crookshanks (that bloody cat) had decided to make a home on her pillow.

Hermione rolled her eyes and went off grumbling, and Gemma went back to sleep.

She had no homework and was exhausted from work, the DA, and just life, so of course, she was going to sleep in as long as she could.

She had been in the middle of a dream about swimming in the Black Lake when Hermione came barging back in again, shouting, "GEMMA ADELINE LU–HILTON!! WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING IN BED?! YOU HAVE TO HELP GEORGE SOON!"

Gemma just grabbed a pillow, and with the accuracy only a Quidditch player could have launched it at Hermione.

"Get. up," Hermione snapped at her. "You can't keep George waiting."

Gemma sat up in bed, her hair a mess, and she glowered at her best girl friend, "And how did Hagrid's lesson planning go, huh?"

Hermione gave her a harsh look, "He is stubborn. But I will keep trying."

The auburn-haired girl rolled her eyes, "I'm sure you will."

Hermione just scoffed and left the room again.

Gemma hurried to get ready, deciding that a messy bun was the way to go–not that her hair ever did anything she wanted it to, anyways.

She dressed in a pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a sweater from her first year–the one Mrs. Weasley had actually made for George, but it ended up with Gemma's stuff instead. She never gave it back, and the twins actually regularly wore those sweaters, too, even though they were definitely waayyyyyy too small now.

And now that Gemma was thinking about it, Fred had her sweater technically.

And her face went a little pink as she realised that, moving to throw on her converse high tops.

But then the events of the other day made her frown.

Fred still hadn't tried to speak to her since he had punched her in the nose that day on the field and, in turn, got her banned from Quidditch.

And she didn't really want to talk to him right now.

She knew he hadn't meant it, but for some reason, it really bothered her.

Gemma sucked in a sharp breath and shook her head, "Stop thinking about it." She turned to her bed and offered a hand to Scotch, "Come along..."

The Niffler crawled across the bed and up her arm, settling on her shoulder as she left the room, letting Crookshanks out as she did.

She walked by Harry and Ron, who was struggling with homework, waving at them on her way to the portrait hole.

"Have fun," Hermione called, her voice kinder than it was ten minutes earlier. Honestly, it was almost giddy.

Gemma gave her a funny look and said, "You too?"

Harry just gave Hermione an equally confused look, and then Ron frowned, but when his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, Hermione slapped a hand over his mouth and hissed something at him.