Sinners and Serpents {g.w.}

Chapter 9

The shock of being saved from certain misfortune by none other than George Weasley was a phenomenon that you still could not get over, even by the end of the week. You hadn't told anyone what had happened, though. Not even Ron. You weren't keeping it a secret, not really; you just felt like it wasn't worth it to get anyone's hopes up that things would be better between you and George.

You had thought that, in a moment of incredible foolishness, until the day after when George resumed his usual biting remarks and snide looks that made you want to shove him off the Astronomy tower. Most of that day was spent chastising yourself for being so dimwitted; George had only saved you because his ass had been on the line as well. George would never save you out of anything other than pure selfishness or poor timing.

Even as you were repeating that mantra in your head at dinner that day, you saw George, sitting with the girl Angelina had introduced him after the first D.A. meeting. Her name was Khaleia, if you recalled correctly. A sixth-year Ravenclaw, smart, rather proficient with Charms, and yes, incredibly pretty. Just George's type.

Surely that was why he was being so kind to her, even going as far as to offer her his jacket when she had shivered during the beginning of dinner. Yes, that jacket, the one he had given you. A sharp bitterness stung you as you watched him give up his warmth so easily. He had put up much more of a fuss with you, and you had actually needed the stupid thing. It seemed as though you just weren't pretty enough for him to be kind to you. Apparently, George didn't mind being cold if the girl he gave his jacket to looked as ethereal as Khaleia did; she certainly surpassed you in every way regarding looks. After he had given her the jacket, you hadn't been able to tear your attention away from the two, watching how George laughed at each of her jokes and how she flirtily rested her hand on his arm.

You stabbed your fork through an innocent green bean rather aggressively, making Eva and Briar give each other looks that seemed to say, Well, are you going to ask or should I? Briar seemed to lose the silent battle, so she set down her own utensils and cleared her throat.

"So, you gonna tell us why you're in such a shit mood or do we have to guess?" Briar asked, earning a sharp nudge from Eva, who clearly didn't approve of Briar's abrasiveness.

You looked up from your barely-eaten dinner. "Nothing's wrong," you replied, earning sounds of disbelief from both girls. "What?"

"You've barely eaten, and you can't stop shooting daggers at Weasley with your eyes," Briar said. "What did he do this time?"

"Nothing," you sighed. "Really, I'm fine. Just not having a great day."

Briar looked like she was about to argue again, but Eva stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Why don't we go hang out with Dorian and Bram tonight? I think you need a break from all those Gryffindors," she joked, hoping it would earn a smile from you.

You shrugged, pushing some of your food around, your fork scraping against your plate. "Sure, as long as that dick Silver won't be there."

"He won't be," Briar assured you, and though you hadn't told her yet about him, you had no doubt that Eva had. "I'm glad you're done with him anyways. You're so out of his league."

A snort came from you in reponse. "Lying's not very nice, you know," you said, rolling your eyes.

"I'm not lying!" Briar defended. "You can't tell me you don't know how pretty you are."

"Pretty is a stretch. I'm not terrible to look at, though," you amended, and you were telling the truth. Clearly, you weren't that pretty, or certain people would be much kinder.

"Whatever," Briar said, shaking her head. "Eva agrees with me, so you're outnumbered."

"Briar's right. Boys are unpleasant at best, anyways."