YN x George Weasley

40

The final event was here. The maze.

You tried desperately to get information about it from the teachers and enchanted yourself so you could watch it set up but you blinked your eyes once and suddenly it was morning and everything was ready.

This irked you. It really did. You wanted to help but this whole situation was making you feel helpless.

How could you help if you didn't know what was going to happen?

Voldy wanted Harry. You knew that much. But you couldn't figure out how he was planning on grabbing him in front of hundreds of wizards and witches.

Think think think.

____

You heard a strange thumping from Professor Moody's office. Instead of knocking and politely asking if something was wrong, you quietly leaned against the door and listened.

He was talking to someone.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll put the spell on it later..."

You knitted your eyebrows and tried to press your ear harder against the door like that would help you hear.

"Yes, I know, the tro-"

"Ms. Johnson." Snape's slow drawl sounded behind you.

You straightened up quickly. "Hello sir. Lovely morning isn't it?"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Hurry along,
Y/n."

"Yes, sir," you nodded quickly and scurried away.

The trophy. What did Mad eye want with the trophy?

___

You're adoptive parents called you "gifted". Not in the magical sense but the regular, smart sense.

If they could see you now they'd call you "stupid".

Only an idiot waits around a corner for their defense against the dark arts teacher to leave his classroom so they can sneak in.

Good thing you were an idiot.

As soon as the tapping of Moody's crane ceased you ran towards his door and opened it slowly.

It creaked a little as you shut it behind you. You estimated you had roughly 6 minutes, no longer, before you had to vanish.

___

"Nothing." You spent three minutes searching everything surprisingly thoroughly and found zip.

You sighed and kicked a box. Nothing of use. You kick the box again and think you hear a little muffled voice come from it.

You kick it harder. Yes. A voice. You memorize how all the shit on top of the box looked before carefully placing them on the floor and opening the lid.

Your eyes widened. "Holy shit."