Secrets Only Trouble Knows - George Weasley

10 - The Pranking War

It was safe to say George left for the infirmary that day less than pleased with me. As Fred had carried him off to obtain a growth serum, he'd shot me a dagger that was one of pure rage. Even though he was tiny, his look still conveyed well enough that he wished nothing but death upon me.

The following morning, he was back to normal again. Well, at least physically. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, had released him from her overnight care in his usual size. But as he stalked into the Great Hall for breakfast and joined our typical group of friends at the Gryffindor table, he appeared as cross with me as the last I'd seen him.

That, of course, was fine by me. I'd wanted him to be mad. I'd wanted to best him and have him angry with me afterward. It meant I'd finally rattled him the way he did me. Because he was wallowing right now, naturally I took the opportunity to gloat. Just as he never failed to do every time he upset me.

"Good morning, George," I greeted him cheerily as he took a seat at the table. "How was your trip to the hospital wing last night? Painful, I hope?"

He glared at me coldly.

"Aren't you hilarious," he replied flatly, eyes nearly rolling back into his head.

"Well, I think so, yeah," I shrugged simply. "I mean, you have to admit, shrinking you to the size of a children's toy action figure was a little funny," I giggled. "I think the whole school would agree too, no?"

"She's right," Fred joined in, grabbing for a pain au chocolat and shoving it into his mouth. "It was rather creative."

While I gave him an appreciative smile, George cut him a dirty look.

"What? Just being honest," his brother said indignantly. "Gotta give it to her."

"No, you don't," George retorted. "I spent the whole night lying in a hospital bed, feeling my body slowly and disturbingly stretch out to normal size again, lest you forget."

I snorted, covering my mouth with my hand.

His dark eyes drifted back to me. He appeared less than thrilled with me finding this to be an amusing matter.

"You'd do well to remember I've never done anything to disfigure your body," he said. "That can always be arranged, you know."

"Be bitter about it all you want, Weasley," I laughed, throwing my hands up. "You brought this upon yourself. I told you what would happen if you messed me with me again. You chose not to listen. Like you always do. Seems to be a running theme, doesn't it?"

He only rolled his eyes again, directing his attention to the food he was cutting on his
plate.

"That's fine," I shrugged, leaning my chin into the palm of my hand. "I'll wait patiently for you to admit you were wrong. That you've always had me wrong."

"Then you'll be waiting for a long time, love," he replied. "Perhaps I was mistaken about your threat, but you're still stuck-up," he shrugged.

I clenched my jaw.

"Just because I like to stay to myself a lot of the time and take things just a little more seriously than you do does not mean I'm stuck-up! God!" I shouted, completely forgetting we were surrounded by our friends.

If there was one thing both of us could do well, it was cause the other's temper to flare in less than a second. One moment our volume would be stable, and the next we'd be yelling through the roof.

"You paint me out to be a brat when that's not true!" I continued fiercely.

"It's not?" George demanded just as heatedly, dropping his silverware onto the table. "It's not true that you can't take things with a grain of salt? That you can't just live a little?"