A Life That's Happy And Unfair **Harry Potter/George Weasley Story**(BOOK2)

Chapter 22: The Wonderful Part Of The Mess

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. They all belong to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Twenty Two: The Wonderful Part Of The Mess

Lottie's Point of View

I stared at George across the Gryffindor table. My smile was still painted across my face. I could see Alex and Fred whispering to each other, "ATCHOO!"

"Alex, really!" I exclaimed, itching away from her, "Sort it out!"

"I'm sorry I just--" Alex then looked at her hand in disgust, "I think that's a piece of my liver."

"Oh shut up, you're so bloody disgusting." I wrinkled my nose. Alex then grinned and wiped her hand on her trousers,

"Colette!" I heard someone call. I turned to see McGonagall hurrying towards me, "Have you seen Mr Potter?"

"I think he went to the toilet Miss. He's being a while though, so he might of already gone down to the task." Hermione told her. I nodded,

"What she said."

"Thank you girls!" McGonagall nodded before jogging off again. We all ended up looking around at each other, and after a few moments of silence,

"Burst of confidence." George blurted out, jumping over the table and grabbing my hand. I fumbled to get up from the table and was being pulled along by George. The last thing I see of the Great Hall was Fred jumping up, and Alex cheered, and they both high fived each other loudly,

"YEAH!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I'm not insane! Promise!" George called back, but keeping running with me. We ended up against a plain wall. George let go of my hand and walked past it, he then walked back and back again. A door then appeared through the wall. George opened it, and dragged me in,

"Is this a broom closet?"

"A broom closet! Shit!" George exclaimed, "You're a genius!"

"Oh. Right. Thanks."

"No, actually this is the Room of Requirement." George nodded, "Notice how its empty?"

"Yeah?"

"That's because I only need a room, no snazzy extras." He raised his eyebrows, "It only shows itself if you know how to work it."

"How do--"

"Stop talking Lot." George told me, "This is my time." I frowned at his blunt, but he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me a little closer to him. I stared at his eyes, which were locking on mine, "I'm sorry." He mumbled,

"Don't be." I breathed. George then put one hand on the small of my back, the other on back of my neck. He breathed deeply, then took a risk and placed his lips on mine. George kissed me. I held my breath for seconds but without hesitation, allowed my mind and self to melt straight into him. George tugged me even closer, and I grinned. Why we was in a summoned broom closet, I didn't know. But it was good enough for me.

It was even better than our last ... well ... our first kiss. George was more perfect than I could even begin to remember him as been. I was beginning to smell the distinct but distance sense of sweet toffee, however it was getting slightly over-powered by a quite delightful fresh, woody scent. Something like rainwater in a forest. There was not any kind of specific taste on my lips, which seemed surprising for the beginning. It was just George, it was just soft and warming. And that was the only way I could imagine to describe it. I sometimes felt a tiny bit sickly at times, but the feeling was keep at bay. I could tell George wasn't as confident as he could be or usually was, even if it wasn't obvious. The nervousness showed clearly on the surface, but deep down there was a connection that was so much stronger than the last one. Each and every move was in absolute agreement with every other one. It wasn't just a risk, it was fate,