Chocolate & Honey (A George Weasley Fanfiction) BOOK ONE

Chapter Twenty-Five: Chocolate and Honey

Siara left me to my thoughts in the library as I pursued the shelves for books about merpeople. My grandfather's book had frustratingly little on the subject, and if we were going to get Darius past the merpeople, we needed as much insight on the creatures as we could get.

I spotted the book I was looking for, standing on my toes and waiting for the spell to activate, which would drop the book into my hand. When it didn't do so, however,I was forced to lean into the shelf, stretching my body in an attempt to reach it myself. My fingertips brushed the spine, and I drew my bottom lip between my teeth in frustration.

I suddenly froze, my spine straightening as a large hand wrapped around my waist and a chest was pressed against my back. I didn't need to see their face to know who it was, as I was instantly surrounded by the scent of old wool and chocolate, with the slightest undertone of pine needles.

George reached above my head easily,  pulling the book down from the shelf. I flattened my feet against the floor, turning around so that my back was against the shelf. George put a hand on the shelf above my head,  holding the book by the spine.

He met my eyes with a smirk, and I furrowed my eyebrows, clocking something different in them.

"Fred?  What the hell are you doing?" I asked, snatching the book from his hand.

"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, leaping away from me. "I'm wearing George's clothes, I've even got his stupid cologne on! How did you know it was me!?"

The real George appeared around the corner,  a lazy smirk on his lips.

"I told you it wasn't going to work." He said with a smile.

"Sen," Fred said, throwing an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side, "We're business partners now. You've got to tell us...how do you do it?!" 

"Oh, I don't have to tell you anything," I said, shoving his arm off of me.

"Please!  It's driving us mad!" 

"No, it's driving you mad," George corrected, "I have no stake in this debate."

I looked at him, suddenly getting an idea of how I could give George a little push to ask me to the ball.

"Ok," I said, looking back at Fred, "You really want to know how I can tell you apart?"

"Please." He said, leaning forward so we were at eye level. I nodded.

"Well, for one, George's voice is deeper than yours," I pointed out, causing them to look at each other with furrowed eyebrows, "But you want to know what the real giveaway is? The one thing that betrays you every single time?" 

"You know that I do." He said, lifting himself up to sit on one of the tables that sat between the shelves. I smiled, glancing up at George, my heart beating a little faster as he met my eyes.

"It's your eyes." I said, staring at George as I observed my theory in real time. His smile fell.

"Our eyes..." Fred repeated, "Senicka...we have the same eyes. We're identical."

"You are," I confirmed, looking back at them, "But that doesn't change the fact that your eyes react differently to different things. For example, most of the time, your eyes are brown. And I mean Dark brown like...chocolate."

I turned to George, meeting his eyes once again.

"But for whatever reason, whenever George is looking at me...like directly at me, like you are right now," I explained, "They look...lighter. More like...honey." I said. George stared at me for a long moment before averting his eyes. I shook my head, looking at Fred once more. "Yours just don't do that. You look at me the same way you look at everything else."