Flourish and Blotts//George Weasley

14 ~ The Yule Ball

"Can you zip this up for me?"

Aurella crossed the room, her heels clicking on the tile, and pulled up the zipper to Kira's dress, latching it shut.

"There," Aurella commented. "Now you are ready, now let's go, or we are going to be late."

Kira nodded and linked arms with her. Together, they walked out of the carriage, momentarily rushing through the cold until they were inside the castle. Aurella ducked into the line of Beauxbatons students, all waiting with Madame Maxime-- wearing her signature tortoiseshell coat-- and Fleur.

There was a moment of silence before the doors to the Great Hall opened and they were ushered inside. Aurella tilted her head back to look up at the roof. The weather was shining above, faint snowflakes falling, just to vanish as they reached the heat of a thousand flickering wax candles.

Quickly, the Beauxbatons students dispersed. Aurella and Kira filtered through the crowd, in search of their partners. They came upon George, Alicia, and several other Gryffindors seated at a table. In a rush, George stood up to meet her, a tiny smile on his face. There was a faint blush spreading across his face, and Aurella could feel her own beginning to heat up.

Fred nudged George forward, towards her, and he stumbled slightly, though immediately righting himself.

"You look great,"

"Thanks," Aurella smiled. "So do you,"

Music picked up, filling the room with warmth and light. George held out a hand and Aurella took it. Together, they joined the wide dance floor, full of couples spinning around. It was a traditional waltz, something Aurella had done countless times in the Beauxbatons dance classes. George kept up surprisingly well. Despite his stature, he moved through the elegant dance with ease, following her comfortably.

"I didn't know you could dance," She commented. "It didn't seem like something that would be in your repertoire."

"Was that a compliment?" He gave her a cheeky lopsided smile. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Aurella scoffed, turning her gaze to the other countless dancers. Everyone was in their dress robes-- Aurella's mother had sent her one from France when they discovered that they would need it. It was a deep red, nearly burgundy, the robes falling over her shoulder in soft light waves. Intricate gold stitching traced the edges, moving in spirals and swirls. It caught the candlelight, shimmering in reflection.

Aurella realized as she spun that it matched the stitching on George's robes, who also wore a deep red, a nice match to his hair. It made his eyes warm and bright. She huffed in amusement to herself. Molly and her mother must've collaborated.

George tilted his head, watching her with a twinkle in his eye. "What?"

Aurella shrugged. She was spun briefly to another male-- someone from Durmstrang based off the hat-- and then back to George.

"I think our mothers collaborated on our robes."

George quickly compared the two, and let out a laugh. Aurella smiled at the sound. It warmed her heart. Underneath whatever laundry detergent was used on the robes, she could smell cotton, vanilla, and a twinge of gunpower-- she could smell George.

"Calculating witches."

George turned her again, and she bit her tongue at the feeling of his hand gracing her lower back. She hadn't expected him to be so kind in his touch-- his hand was just hovering, the lightest touch of fingers through her robes. He never went lower than the small of her back.

As she was turned, her eyes briefly met Henri. He was seated in a shiny chair around one of the numerous round tables, a glass held loosely in his hands and his eyes focused on her. Aurella swallowed, turning back to George.