Triplets (George Weasley)

Pt. 12

   "Uh, guys?" I wake up to Lee nudging me. Rubbing my eyes, I look around to see that I'm laying snuggled against George, my face buried in his chest. His shirt, a favorite Chudley Cannons tee, smells so good, like the Burrow. That's when I snap out of it. Oh, no. I'm snuggling with George in the boys' dormitory.
    No one knows about my night terrors but Fred, so I know what this must look like. Slowly, George begins to wake, rubbing his eyes groggily and looking up at Lee and I. He makes a noise like, "Whaangh." Then he, too, comes to his senses.
    "Not what it looks like, Lee," he snaps.
    "What is it than, lovebirds?" Lee asks, chuckling.
    "Look, Lee, I have night terrors, okay? I just couldn't sleep alone. So, usually, I come to George when I have them. It's not a big deal, but it's not something I want publicized. Think you can keep that to yourself?" I ask quickly, not in the mood for Lee's crap. Lee quickly looks very sorry for teasing me.
    "Hey, man. I didn't know it was like that, Rey. Your secret's safe with me. Just know that my bed's open to you any time you need it, Dollface," Lee winks.
    "We'll see, Lee," I giggle at the thought.
    "I think my bed will be just fine, thanks," George grits his teeth, clearly upset by Lee's proposition.
    "Aw, honey. Are you jealous? You know you're the only man for me," I joke, running a hand through his soft red hair.
    "Shut up," he scowls at me. "Lee, wanna give us some privacy please?"
    Lee retreats from the room, hands raised in surrender. "You don't gotta tell me twice."
    "What's up, Georgie?" I ask, honestly concerned now.
    "I just... I wanted to tell you that it means a lot to me that you come to me when you have your night terrors. That I'm the one you come to when you're upset and need to be comforted and protected. It makes me feel needed and important, and I like that about our friendship, Rey. You know?" he explains to me, a nervous look on his face, as though he's scared I'll reject him or something. Gently, I smooth his hair.
    "Of course, I understand, Georgie. I was only kidding when I was talking to Lee. I would never, and could never, go to anyone else. There's a reason I pick you every time, and it's not 'cause Fred kicks. You are the person I go to when I'm scared or upset, and I love that, too. No way is that gonna change, okay? I promise," I smile at him warmly. He just pulls me into a gentle embrace, a classic George move.
    Then, looking at his watch, George comments with a smirk, "You know, we've still got about an hour before we actually have to be getting up. Care for a little more sleep?"
    "I'd love that," I grin, giggling softly as George falls back onto his pillow pulling me down with me. The tall ginger chuckles as I bury my face in his chest once again, taking in the scent of his shirt blissfully.
    The last thing I hear before I fall asleep, arms wrapped around his waist is, "I have a bunch of these shirts. I'll give you this one when we wake up." That makes for a very content sleep.

    True to his word, when we're woken by a sleepy Fred, the first thing George does is take off his Chudley Cannons tee, leaving himself bare-chested, and hands it to me. I resist the urge to smell it then and there and instead head to my dorm to change.
    Once dressed, I head down to the Common Room, tie in hand and collar up. George still has to teach me to tie them, so he's been doing them himself each morning when we meet up. I know full-well that I could easily ask Hermione or any of the girls to teach me how, but I kinda like having George help me, and I know he likes it, too.
    In the Common Room, I go to sit down on the sofa, but not before I see that a new notice has been posted and go over to check it out. Flying Lessons start Thursday. Suddenly, I'm super nervous. Slowly, I go sit on the couch, trying not to hurl. Finally, after a few minutes, the boys arrive.
    "C'mon, Rey. We're gonna be late for breakfast," Fred grins.
    "Tie," I whine, holding it out for George.
    "Of course, m'lady," he grins, tying it perfectly as usual. I don't manage a response, just follow them out the door. All I can think about is an image of me falling to my death off a frickin' broomstick. My last encounter with one, when George yelled at me, has left me with a phobia. I came so close to injury, and would have gotten it, if it hadn't been for George. George won't be there to save me next time.
    I can hear the boys talking and laughing in front of me, but I'm not listening. I can't. Suddenly, I hear, "Rey? Rey, you in there?" Fred is waving a hand in front of my face.
    "Cut it out," George nudged him. "What's wrong, Love?"
    "Flying lessons start Thursday," I manage to state simply.
    "Oh, I heard. You have it with the Slytherins. Bad luck," Fred shakes his head disapprovingly.
    "That doesn't bother me. It's th-the flying part," I whimper.
    "Are you afraid of flying?" Fred asks.
    "A little. I just... I came so close to getting really hurt last time," I remind them. George purses his lips, remembering.
    "What do you say we skip class on Thursday and Freddie and I will take you onto the Quidditch pitch and teach you, huh? Get you comfortable on a broom again?" he asks.
    "That sounds great. Thanks, George," I let out a shaky sigh.
    "Of course, Sweetheart," he pulls me into a hug before we can head down to the Great Hall for a hurried breakfast.