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For Old Time's Sake by hail_rowena
Chapter 9 : Just Do It, George
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 6


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A/N: Another amazing update! What can I say apart from the fact that I am an amazing fast author? (And that I wrote this chapter while HPFF had just accepted my 11th chapter of Mixed Messages… that’s just how slow validation is. *hint, hint*)




Hope is the denial of reality.
- Margaret Wels


The important thing was not to let this situation affect me. No, no, I was going to fight it and emerge victorious. Either that, or I just bottle up my feelings and hope that it all went away. After all, I really was happy with George – I shouldn’t let one stinking article ruin everything for me.

“Are you going to watch me play?” asked George as we walked along the corridor. You see! I could never do this with Oliver – that twat face.

“If you want to, but won’t I be too distracting?”

“Not really, you’ll blend in with the rest of my admirers.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t really look anything like Lee, so I’m not really going to blend in, am I?”

George laughed as he wrapped his arm around me. “Seriously, I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

“No, I want to,” I said hastily, “it’ll be fun to see you play like a complete idiot.”

Actually, George was pretty good at practice, whenever he had the chance to show himself off. I had never really looked at him during games, my focus had always been on Harry, but now that I wasn’t checking him out – what was he doing with – OK, I was checking him out. The point was – what was it again? Oh yes, the point was that George was actually an impressive Quidditch player.

And people claim that I tend to deviate from the topic…

However, while George was a good player, I really wish I could say the same for his younger brother. I mean, I know that it was only a practice, so it shouldn’t have been taken that seriously, but he was rubbish. The Slytherins were constantly taunting him. One of who was Pansy Parkinson, who once tried to get me to go with her friends. Pfft, OK, that plan was full proof… Just shows the pure genius that is Pucey.

Speaking of Pansy, she decided that it would be interested in commenting on Angelina’s hair. I think Angelina would have been sufficiently proud with me if she had heard me snap at Pansy, “Her hair’s nice. The question is, what happened to your nose?”

Even though it was a rather childish remark - rather? Goyle probably had better comebacks up his sleeve - it seemed to of had an effect on Pansy, who looked put off, before finding something else completely hilarious and turned her attention away from me. I must remember to make fun of her face more often; it clearly brings about results.

Of course, the situation wasn’t helped when Ron threw the Quaffle at Katie, which appeared to have hit her full in the face. Talk about ouch… On the bright side, the Slytherins found it hilarious. Merlin, I haven’t been sarcastic in a while, so that felt nice.

Fred, or George – the altitude makes it hard to distinguish the two from each other – gave Katie something, which she gratefully swallowed. Even though the practice continued, I noticed that Katie wasn’t getting any better. In fact, she was severely bleeding. The look on Fred or George’s face told me that their amazing antidote might have played some part in it. The whole team eventually saw how she was dramatically bleeding after a while, and the team gave up on practice and came down to the ground.

Fed up of the Slytherins’ jeers, I decided to follow Fred and George as they hustled Katie towards, what I assumed would be, the Hospital Wing. When I arrived, I was surprised that Katie was still bleeding, her appearance giving the impression that all of the blood had all been drained from her, making it impossible to believe that there was a single drop left.

“What happened to her?”

“I thought we had given her the antidote for Nosebleeds,” explained Fred.

“But we might have given her Blood Blisterpod,” said George nervously.

“You should really think about labelling them,” said Katie, her voice weak from the loss of blood.

“Do you need any help?” I offered. “I’m not strong or anything, but -”

“No, you can go back if you want,” said George.

Something about his tone annoyed me a little. Maybe it was just the time of the month, but I distinctly had the impression that maybe he didn’t want me around. But that didn’t make sense, because he wanted me to come to his Quidditch practice. My bet was that it actually was that time of the month coming up, but just in case I was going to be angry anyway, and then blame it on that when the time came to it.

“No, it’s alright.” If it was that he didn’t want me there, then all I could say was fat chance. He was stuck with me because we’re in a relationship. I know that you technically should not describe being with your boyfriend or girlfriend as being stuck with someone, but we’re just going to stick with the facts. I mean Oliver friggen walked with me when I had a headache!

Stop it, Anne. Dangerous territory...

George shrugged his shoulders, but then lost his balance and Katie slipped slightly. When he got her upright again, she feebly said, “Don’t do that again.”

I collected their stuff and walked with the three of them towards the Hospital Wing. In the distance, I could still hear the Slytherins taunting whoever crossed their path. I swear, one day I was really going to punch them in the face. I’ll even bet myself a broom. That’s right, if I punch one of those Slytherins in the face, then I will allow myself a new broom. And I think that my mum might actually consider to being apart from it.

Madam Pomfrey stopped when she saw us coming. Even though I was about to reassure her that it wasn’t any Dark Magic or anything, she exclaimed, “I cannot believe this. Again, Anne? How many men chase you exactly, or were you stupid enough to accept a drink from the same one?” Come on. Do I seriously look like I’ve been drugged up or something? I’m hardly aroused by anything, so an explanation would probably be brilliant.

My cheeks became hot as I said, “Actually, we’re here about Katie. You know, the one who’s bleeding like there’s no tomorrow?”

To my delight, Madam Pomfrey seemed deeply embarrassed by what just happened and decided to busy herself with Katie, not looking me in the eye. As she tried to mix ingredients, Fred said, “You guys can head off.”

George nodded and we began to walk away. When we were out of sight, he grinned and said, “You apparently have made quite an impression.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s alright. I find it very funny.”

“Well, you’re funny…” As George looked at me with an eyebrow raised, I said, “That was supposed to be an insult.”

“Oh, well then, you bitch!” I had never heard George actually swear before, and I had never heard him sound so gay. So when I heard both at once, I laughed at once. After a while, my sides began to hurt and my eyes were stinging.

George beamed, saying, “I’m good.”

“Yes, you are,” I admitted.

“Anne?”

“Yes.”

There was a long pause. Finally, George shook his head and said, “Never mind.”

“Oh, come on,” I exclaimed. “You can’t be serious.”

“What are you on about?”

“You’re doing the whole, you want to ask a question but you decide it’s better not to, thing. I hate that thing. Because if you don’t tell me, and then put it in an article a year later, I will kill you.” OK, too far.

“What? Anne, what - I wasn’t planning on saying anything,” retorted George, seeming earnest enough.

“Then what did you want to do?” I shook my head, due to how dodgy that just sounded. But seriously, what did he want to do?

“It’s nothing, really. Let’s just get back.”

Please?” I asked dramatically, then adding, “I’ll be your best friend.”

George laughed in response, but still shook his head. “You wouldn’t be concerned with it.”

“George, it involves you. Therefore, I am concerned.”

“And we’re here!” cried George as we reached the portrait hole. If he thought he could just run from me, then he truly is an idiot. Doesn’t he know who he is talking to? This is the girl who managed to figure out that Professor Lupin was a werewolf before like anyone else. The fact that Professor Snape told everyone the next day rather sucked, but that doesn’t change that I managed to figure out through pestering and snooping!

“Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!” OK, my tactics were much better for the Professor Lupin scenario, but this should work anyway because he’s my boyfriend.

“There’s nothing to say.”

Amy rushed down the stairs and looked at George hopefully – which was extremely odd. His eyes widened a little and did a head movement, which looked like a no to me, and she groaned.

OK, now it was just getting ridiculous.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Amy, what was that?” I asked loudly.

Amy looked up and said, “Nothing,” rather hastily.

“OK, she’s lying. What are you up to?”

“What do you mean she’s lying? How do you know that?”

“George, I know Amy, so you were a fool to confide in her. Now what is it?”

“Just do it, George?”

“Do what?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s going on?” asked a random third-year. Ah, to be a third-year and an idiot again… I would give my… actually, I wouldn’t give anything. Sucker. You still have the rest of year as a third-year but I’m a fifth-year. Marvel at my brilliance! You’ll be spending the year figuring out whether Professor Trelawny’s actually taking Divination seriously or if she’s drunk, while I go through fifth-year happily knowing that it’s a bit of both!

And we’re back.

“George!”

“Leave it, Amy.”

“George.”

“We’ll talk about it later?”

“What are you guys shouting about?” Lavender watched the scene with glee.

Rolling my eyes, I growled, “It’s none of your business.” I then turned to George. “Now, what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Amy?”

“Nothing.”

I groaned aloud.

“What’s wrong?” asked Amy.

Nothing,” I replied waspishly.

“Look, can I at least tell you in private?”

“But I want to know,” moaned the third-year.

“Do I even know you?”

“I’m Romilda Vane.”

Ah, yes, I had heard of her. Apparently a Harry Potter fan, and a bit of a stalker. Which is just weird – there can only be one stalker, and just because I’m dating someone doesn’t mean that the position can just be filled by anyone. To have more than one stalker might just be seen as creepy.

“Well, thank you, Romilda, for your interest, but frankly, it’s really none of your business.” And you have stupid hair.

“Just do it, George.”

Everyone continued to pester him, and the rest of the room had eventually joined in. Before we knew it, there was a chant around the room. I have to admit it, I secretly loved it, as I was part of it all, but George seemed rather flushed.

“It’ll stop if you do it,” I stated.

“But… oh Merlin, why not?”

Putting his hand behind my head, he pulled me in for a final kiss. At first, it was the most awkward thing on the planet. I couldn’t help but feel everyone’s eyes on us, and I thought that he had put his tongue in my mouth a little too early. However, as we got into it, I didn’t mind it. Actually, I didn’t mind it at all. It was Pucey all over again, except without the guilt. The eyes slowly melted away from my senses and all that mattered was that the world would fall apart if he stopped kissing me.

By the time we broke apart, the room had fallen silent. When we both grinned, rather breathlessly, at each other, the common room broke into applause and George saluted them, which made me laugh aloud. I think I’m starting to see how funny can be attractive. But isn’t that just compatibility?

“Now, I know that you’ve told me and all, but we can still do the private thing, right?” I suggested, raising my eyebrows and dropping them a couple of times.

“I believe that can be arranged.”

We almost immediately began as we went through the portrait hole. I soon pushed him away. “Nu-uh. McGonagall killed me the last time I was found in this position.”

“Oh I forgot; you’re a bit of an expert.”

“I’m just a scandal,” I teased.

“Intriguing.”

“Gotten over Oliver, have you, Walters?” taunted someone, who I could only imagine was a Slytherin. Shit.

“Oliver who?”


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