“So, how do you like it?” There’s a blanket covering most of the floor in between the various types of beautiful flowers Mrs Sprout is growing. On the far right corner of the blanket I can see an actual old-fashioned picnic basket.
“Wow, you did this?”
“I’m guessing that’s a yes?”
“No, it’s a hell yes! This is amazing!”
“I’m glad you like it.” George says while wrapping his arms around me and he leans in for a kiss. This time, I let him. The warmth of his body against mine is very welcome with the cold from outside still in my clothes, so when his arms let go of me, I just tighten my grip on him.
“Well, that’ll get rid of the cold.” I say when we’ve finally broken apart.
“I’ll say.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t think we’ve ever kissed that long.”
“Huh, I think you might be right about that one.”
“I don’t mind it lasted that long.” I have to laugh a little at that.
“Bet you don’t.” I say smiling and looking into his beautiful brown eyes, I’ve come to love so much. “And maybe we’ll even improve that record later today.”
“Is that just teasing or are you serious?”
“Of course it’s teasing, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be serious.”
“You’ve listened to Dumbledore too much.” Again, I have to laugh.
“Well, he teaches me for six hours in a week, so it’s not unlikely.” This time George laughs, although I suspect that’s mostly due to my facial expression. “What’s it now?” He was looking at me again with that… unplaceable expression on his face.
“I just… You know, maybe we should start on the food.”
“Okay.” I’m seriously starting to feel like something’s wrong, and I don’t like that feeling. We sit down on the blanket and George opens the picnic basket.
“It’s pretty hot in here.” I take off the knitted sweater I’d put on because George told me to dress warm. And no, this isn’t some trick, it really is hot in here, like it normally is in greenhouses.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m melting because you told me to dress warm while you knew we were going to a greenhouse.” I try not to let my irritation show.
“Okay, want some pie?” He was busy slicing a piece of a totally delicious-looking cherry pie, my favorite.
“George?”
“What?”
“What’s wrong? Is it something I did?”
“No, not exactly. You’re a real Hufflepuff for looking at yourself, rather than putting the blame elsewhere.”
“Please just answer me. I just want to know what’s upsetting you.” I just want to help him, a feature of both a Hufflepuff and a Cancer, a caring nature.
“It’s something I have to take care of myself, I’m sorry.” I can see he really is sorry, but I can’t seem to figure out the problem. This last thing, I don’t like. Besides the caring nature, I’m also quite inquisitive, meaning I can’t stand this kind of situation.
“I’ll try not to ask about it, but you know how hard that is for me.”
“I know, thanks.” His sweet smile makes my heart skip a beat every time.
“But you can tell me anything, just remember that, will you?” I put my hand on the side of his face to empathise how much I cared about him.
“I will.” This time I am the one to lean in for a kiss and of course, George didn’t back away.
“Now for that pie, who baked it? I should really thank him for it, it looks absolutely finger-licking good.”
“My mom did. I would have done it, but then the taste might have been less than great, if you know what I mean.” I do. Last time he tried to bake something, he pulled a Seamus, meaning it blew up. Not kidding.
“But I’m guessing you had something to do with this particular flavour?”
“Oh, you mean this flavour is special to you? I had no idea!” He doesn’t mean a word of it, so I give him a little push like I always do at moments like this.
“We should pull a prank.” This is a bit out of the blue on my part.
“Okay, anything in particular?”
“No, it’s just that we haven’t really pulled a prank since Becky and Fred and the two of us have started dating. It just seems like we need to even the score or something.” George takes some time to think about his answer.
“The lady’s always right, I guess.”
“When have you’ve ever gone by that expression before?!”
“Never, so I thought I should try it out.”
“Right, so do you have any ideas, brother Pretzel1?”
“Hmm, not really, you must cloud my vision.” A joke, duh.
“Because I’m so stunning you can’t focus whenever I’m near?” Note that I don’t actually think that, I’m just putting George to the test.
“Something like that.”
“Watch it, wizard boy.” George holds his hands up in a defensive position. “But we could start with something simple to get back in the game.”
“What did you have in mind?” He’s hanging on my every word now.
“Voldemort.”
“I like it already! What’s the plan?”
