𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍; george weasley

047

FOURTY SEVEN

George sat on the bench in the top row of the stadium, surrounded by his family and friends, but he couldn't focus on the game. The pitch stretched out in front of him, and the crowd roared as the Irish and Bulgarian teams took to the sky, but all he could see was her.

Victoria, Princess of England.

Tori.

She was on the pitch with Minister Fudge, of course. His hand gripped her waist like she was some kind of prize to show off, and George hated how stiff she looked. She was wearing a gown—who in Merlin's name wore a gown to a Quidditch match?—but somehow, she still looked like she belonged. The commentator announced her arrival with such enthusiasm that the crowd broke into song: God Save the Queen.

George's chest tightened. He had seen Victoria look stunning before, countless times, but something about seeing her like this—on display, being bowed to and kissed on the hand by world-famous Quidditch players—made it feel like a cold, hard wall was settling between them.

"This is her life," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Fred asked, leaning in.

George shook his head. "Nothing."

He tried to watch the game, but his mind kept drifting. Alicia had written to him saying she couldn't make it to the World Cup, and though he hadn't admitted it to anyone, he'd been relieved. He didn't want her here, especially now. He liked Alicia—she was fun, pretty, and always said how much she liked him—but whenever she kissed him, it felt like... nothing.

Not like Victoria.

Not that you've ever kissed her, he reminded himself.

But Merlin, the way Victoria had looked at him at the ball... for one impossible moment, it had felt like maybe she felt the same way he did. That moment had shattered when she'd run away, and he'd kissed Alicia out of desperation. The look on Victoria's face when she saw them was burned into his memory.

And now she was there, looking every inch the princess she was. She was untouchable.

"Oi, George," Fred nudged him. "Look sharp. You've got that brooding face on again. Not your best look."

George gave him a half-hearted glare but didn't respond. He crossed his arms over his chest, glancing back at the pitch just in time to see Fudge leading Victoria toward the Minister's Box. The sight made him feel like someone had taken a Bludger to his gut.

"Enjoying the view?" Fred asked, following his line of sight.

"No," George muttered.

Fred snorted. "Sure, mate."

When George saw Victoria turn on her heel and climb the stairs toward them instead of following Fudge, his breath caught. She was coming here.

"What's she doing?" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Looks like she's escaping the Minister," Ginny said, grinning. "Good for her."

And then she was there, standing in front of them, barefoot and holding her shoes, her gown slightly disheveled. She looked like herself again.

"Room for one more?" she asked, her voice light and familiar.

Everyone reacted with warm surprise, making space for her without hesitation. She settled in beside Ginny, her easy laugh and quick wit drawing everyone in, just like she always did.

George hung back, unsure of what to say or do. She didn't look at him, not once, but her presence was enough to send his thoughts spiraling.

She belonged here, with them, but she also didn't. She was a princess, for Merlin's sake. She had a life that was so far removed from theirs, and yet she fit into this group like she'd been born to it.

He caught himself watching her again, the way her smile lit up her face when she teased Fred, the way she leaned in to listen to Ginny, the way she let her bare feet dangle over the edge of the bench.

Alicia never made him feel like this.

George rubbed the back of his neck, frustration bubbling up inside him. He didn't understand why he felt this way, why every look, every laugh, every smile from Victoria made his chest ache in a way he couldn't ignore.

And worse, he hated himself for feeling jealous of the life she had, the life he knew he'd never be a part of.