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"You owe me five galleons." George whispered with a smug smile after he just won our bet on who we could make the most uncomfortable by making out in the corridors. I guessed Hermione and he guessed Neville.

"I don't owe you anything." I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Give me the galleons, darling." He said, making me look at him as he held out a hand. "Or I'll reach into your pocket myself and grab them."

"You're not going near my pockets, mister!" I told him, pointing a finger at him as I quickly stepped backwards.

"Gosh." He laughed. "You're such a sore loser."

"Am not!"

"You are!" He argued and suddenly he bend down, pulling me over his shoulder which made me scream.

"George! Put me down you bloody moron!"

"I will when you give me the money you owe me." He said as he started walking down the corridors. "Five galleons, love. Five galleons."

"You're crazy!" I yelled, hitting him on the back. People were looking our way as I was screaming and kicking George to put me down but like everything else we did, they were used to it.

Moments later, I was thrown into the deep snow outside that had fallen over the night.

"Are you gonna give me my money?" He smirked, standing over me with a leg on each side of my body.

"You didn't win." I said, sticking out my tongue at him. "How could you possibly know if Neville was more uncomfortable than Hermione?"

"Because Neville was trembling and almost walked into a wall while Hermione simply rolled her eyes and left."

"That doesn't even prove anything!" I exclaimed. "You're not getting my money, you baboon!"

"Got anymore insults?" He smirked. "You could call me a whale, a cow— maybe a pig. That's a good one."

"Or a sloth." I said. "You ridiculous sloth."

"Oh? I'm a ridiculous sloth?" He chuckled, crouching down over me. "At least I'm not stubborn and a sore loser."

"I am not—" I started, pushing him into the snow before getting on top of him, banging my hands into the snow. "— a sore loser."

"I'm sorry." He pouted. "You're a very sore loser."

"I'm going to hit you." I warned him, making his smile grow.

"Do it. I dare you."

I glared at him and he smiled in satisfaction. He knew I'd never hit him for real. Only for fun.

When I was distracted, I suddenly got pushed into the snow myself and now George was on top of me. Then I felt a tingling sensation in my stomach as he started tickling me and I screamed in laughter.

"Stop!" I screamed, trying to push him away but he kept my wrists above me with one hand while tickling me with the other.

"Tell me you love me and I will." He said but I wasn't going to let him have his way. I tried holding my breath to see if it worked but it didn't. "It's three words, love. Prove to me you aren't stubborn."

"Fine!" I screamed. "I love you, I love you, I love you!"

He stopped tickling me and looked at me as I let out a breath of relief.

"I love you, okay?" I said a little softer. George pouted playfully at me and ran his hand into my hair, kissing my lips.

"I love you too." He whispered. "Now give me my money."

"Seriously?" I groaned and he nodded at me before I reached into my pocket, pulling out the five galleons. "Here."

I placed them in his hand and he softly thanked me before kissing my cheek.

"Moron." I muttered. He laughed, standing up. He reached down his hand, helping me up.

"Your hair's full of snow." He said, trying to brush it out of my hair.

"No way, dirtbag." I said, pushing him in the chest. "But so is yours."

"I'll never get tired of your insults." He smiled, placing his hand in the spot I had pushed him. I looked past him, seeing some Beauxbatons girls in uniform, looking our way while talking. They were all smiling and when George saw me frowning, he turned around and as soon as his eyes landed on them, they started giggling.

"No! Nope." I said, grabbing George's wrist. "That is not happening."

"What's not happening?" George asked as I pulled him with me back inside of the castle. "Why're we walking so fast?"

I ignored him until we were in the common room about five minutes later. The painting closed behind us and we were the only ones in here apart from Fred.

"Where's Kathleen?" George asked, walking over to sit next to his twin brother.

"With Lee again." Fred replied. "On the quidditch field."

"Course." George smiled before they both looked at me. I hadn't moved one inch since we entered the room. "Now, would you like to tell me why you wanted to get out of there so quickly?"

"What happened?" Fred then asked as his eyes shun with excitement. "Something interesting?"

"Those French girls from Beauxbatons academy were looking at your brother like he was meat."

Fred raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at George who watched me with a confused expression before he simply laughed.

"Ahh, I get it! You're jealous!"

"Jealous?!" I scoffed. "I am not jealous. Jealousy is for losers and I do not need to be jealous."

"And why is that?" George asked.

"Because you adore her." Fred said. "You would never even look at anyone else."

"Exactly." I agreed. "So I'm not jealous."

"No." George smirked. "You aren't. Of course you aren't."

I watched the both of them for a couple of seconds before deciding that I didn't want to have this conversation. I scoffed, making both of them laugh as I stomped my way into my dormitory.

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