Shit, I'm Falling For A Weasley || George Weasley

Chapter 47 - In which I get infected by the Won-Won disease

Won-Won, I found out later, was the pet name for Ron given by Lavender. The key term being was, since they were no longer an item. I don't really understand what exactly happened but George just said Ron just confessed his true feelings and they weren't for Lavender. Either way, Won-Won may as well have been a disease as now I seem to be constantly surrounded by Lavender's random outbursts of emotions. The common room, the library, the Great Hall- the girl seems to cry everywhere. 

Ron on the other hand seems perfectly fine and when I asked Ginny why she just scrunched her face and gave a pointed look towards the trio as if that is supposed to mean anything to me. 

George has been teaching me how to be more integrated with everyone, he thinks it's essential for the success of controlling my powers. It baffles me, but at this point I'm willing to try anything and it doesn't hurt to get some tips on how to act with Ginny. George finds the whole situation very amusing, which only annoys me even further. 

***FLASHBACK: DAY OF RON'S POISONING***

"Look for this to work I need to you blend in a bit more," George says as he hands me another pastry. After seeing Ron was completely wide awake and fine, George and I decided to retreat away with the excuse of getting food. I mean my very loud grumbling stomach did seem to ruin the vibe. 

"Why? I think I'm doing pretty fine!" I retort back as a house elf comes bearing some water. I smile at her gratefully and take the glass from her. George knowing how to get into the kitchens is no surprise to me, but it's the fact that he manages to remain so slim with this key information that simply astonishes me. 

"I disagree. I mean take Harry for example. If you're so good at blending in then why did he just accuse you of attempted murder?" George asks pointing the pastry at me. I purse my lips together and just take another bite. Potter apologised for his hasty accusal, but the sting of seeing everyone look at me as if I'm a monster is an image that has been burnt into my brain.

"See that's what I mean, you can't just keep shutting yourself off from everyone and expect them to not notice something has changed," George continues as he leans back on the kitchen wall. His extremely long legs are stretched out in front of him and my own have no space and so are tucked under my bum as I sit opposite him.

"What does it even matter anyways? Fred's always the one who says not to care about what other people say or think," I say and George just shakes his head at me slowly as if he's being condescending and mocking me.

"I'm not Fred now am I? And you know I'm right. I honestly believe if you are less focused on having to keep up this facade, you could focus more of your energy on your power." George says and then his eyes glaze over like they usually do when he thinks back to the flames I created for him.

"Alright for a second let's just assume you have a point-"

"I do have a point," George interrupts and I scowl at him.

"Don't you dare say it." I mutter, but George just raises his hands up to as if to surrender. 

"Say what?" George says innocently. "I was just going to admire that scowl and how simply fowl it is." 

My eyes narrow but I ignore his comment and try to ignore the smile playing on his lips since he seems to know exactly how to get under my skin. "Assuming you have a point, how is this supposed to help me with control? I mean it's all about channeling my feelings of hate-" 

"See that's another thing I'm not 100% certain about. I mean why hate? Isn't that so exhausting?" George interrupts again causing me to ball my hands into fists. Why does he have to always be the one whose dominant in a conversation and continually interrupt me? Communication is a two way street after all.