Chapter 6: If I Fell

November 15th

George felt his heart race a little faster with each step towards the Quidditch Pitch. In his left hand he gripped his broom, and in his right, was Mavis's hand.

"George, can I open my eyes now?"

"No, keep them closed." He said with a smile, leading her out to the middle of the field.

An early snow had started to fall a day prior, fortifying the ground with white powder. A few flakes fell down in a light shower as they entered the pitch and walked onto the field. The brisk air teased the ends of his hair as he turned to look at the smiling girl. Her eyes were still closed, and her cheeks rosy from the cold. A few flakes had clung to her eyelashes and bangs. She had worn her hair loose that day but had a black winter cap to keep her warm. George tucked a fluttering piece behind her ear and trailed his hand down her arm and grasped her hand in his again.

He sat down on his broom, and began to hover, his feet only an inch from the ground. Feeling the freedom of flight gave him a new confidence, and George took full advantage of it.

"You can open them now."

She obeyed, and immediately confusion spread across her face, crinkling her nose. He barked a laugh and held out his hand, adoring the expression.

"Do you trust me?" He asked with a smile.

Mavis's clear blue eyes widened and she stood very still, seizing up from fear.

"George," She croaked, "I can't."

With a sigh and a playful eye roll, he pulled forward to take her hand. Then pulled her close so that their noses were almost touching. His breath tickled her face pleasantly; and he hoped that Mavis had caught on to his light flirtation.

"Do you trust me, or not?" He breathed, smiling softly. His grinned widened when she smiled too and biting her lip, nodded.

He hauled her onto the broom so that she was facing him, noticing how she struggled slightly for stability. When she had gotten a good grip and was watching George intently, he pulled the broom up and slowly began to gain some height until they were a good twelve feet in the air. Mavis paled considerably when they stopped and floated there, the breeze swaying them occasionally; the snow began to fall more heavily, with large thick flakes dominating the sky.

She was gripping the handle with white knuckles and tense muscles, but her wide eyes and blown hair gave her a more rugged beauty. Her lips, stained berry, were slightly parted but full looking. George felt his breath hitch in his throat as her eyes fluttered from the ground, to his. He had never stumbled with words before, but in that moment, he couldn't help his voice from cracking.

All at once he felt the words tumble from his lips, "I guess you'll have to marry me now."

Her lips twitched into a half smirk and then a smile, remembering what she had said on the train, and she gave a little laugh. Nodding, she chuckled, "I wouldn't mind."

Relief washed over him in a great wave that could have knocked him right of that broomstick. She was joking of course, but the fact that she hadn't reeled back in disgust or hate gave him a hope. After all, she was his friend, and that was a start.

He lost himself in thought, idly staring at the girl in front of him and impetuously wishing that he could be seated next to her, rather than across. His time at Hogwarts was quickly dwindling much to his dismay, as Fred had already suggested that they leave early, since they both were feeling particularly restricted by Umbridge's rule. He hadn't thought much of it, but the only reason he was putting it off was because of the girl in front of him. His twin had often poked fun at him for being so oblivious of his own feelings and that of Mavis's feelings towards him as well; though he was struggling to believe that she did have romantic feelings for him.

There were many things that George had noticed about her, and one of them was that she hid her spirits very well. Not in the sense that she was unfeeling or outputting, but she kept up a cheery demeanor even when she wasn't feeling all that happy. There were numerous times when her smile didn't quite reach her eyes or she almost grimaced instead, but she had always laughed off the situation or comment. This wasn't to say that she wouldn't show negative emotion from time to time; fear being the main contender in these situations. And worry.

Without really thinking about it, he began to lower the broom so that their feet were dangling a couple inches from the ground. Once dismounted, he snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a deep embrace, while his other hand crossed her shoulder blades and threaded itself in her hair. Cold fingers danced across his middle as she put her arms underneath his sweater and wound them around to his back; giggling as he sucked in a sharp breath at the abrupt chill and smiled down at her.

"You did that on purpose." He laughed lowly.

"Of course." She mumbled into the fabric of his jumper, giving another giggle.

Rolling his eyes he lifted her and waddled over to the nearest pile of snow. When she caught on to his antics she let out a wail before being thrown into the cold substance and nearly disappearing in the cloud of white. Chuckling at the sputtering girl, he went to help her up, thrusting out a hand that she quickly grabbed, and yanked so that he was now on top of her. Instantly, he felt his face flush as he propped himself up on his elbows. She was still laughing slightly at her own trick when, on bold impulse, George craned his neck somewhat and lightly fixed a kiss on her forehead. They both stilled, the full weight of the situation pressing down on them, when a clear and cold voice came shooting from behind.

"How cute." The sneering voice of Draco Malfoy sounded.

George grabbed her hand, and pulled the both of them upright to face the pale and sickly looking boy.

"How many rules are you breaking, Weasel?" He smirked and kicked the forgotten broomstick. "Ten?"

"Shove off, Malfoy,"George growled.

"George, he's just trying to get under your skin." He felt a wave of calm as Mavis grabbed on to his arm, stopping his previous movements of advancement on the brat.

"Is that O'Reilly? Ha! Boy have you dropped standards. I suppose that's not a surprise though, considering your mom's position in the Ministry is only a hair better than the Weasel swine. It's not like you can afford to be picky-"

Gritting his teeth, the Weasley fought the urge to jump on the blonde kid.

"-I guess you'll be joining them at that pitiful house of theirs. You should get used to sleeping with all of them around. They can't afford to not sleep in the same room."

"You're rotten, Malfoy." George snarled. "You're uncouth, and you'll end up alone."

The conceited boy looked sickened for a moment as he glanced between the two Gryffindors, a slight air of dismay waving from him. George couldn't help but feel slightly smug that he had shut him up for once, and allowed a crooked grin to smear on his face in triumph. He had always heard stories from Ron about the foul things the fellow Pureblood would say about his family. It had never dawned on him how severe his bullying could be. Swallowing at the silence, he turned and placed his cloak around Mavis's shoulders and then steadily approached the startled boy.

When George was standing a few feet from him, he smirked and leaned down to grab the broomstick from the ground and turned back to Mavis. His smile broadened as he took in her shy smile and noticed how her fingers clutched his cloak closer. Giving one last stern glance at Malfoy, he joined her and draped his arm over her shoulders, leading her back to the castle.

"George," Mavis began slowly later that night, as he laid his head in her lap. The Common room was nearly empty, with only a few scattered students, and a dim fire to keep them cozy. He flicked his eyes up to look at her and caught her soft smile as she began to brush her fingers through his hair; a little hum escaping his lips in content. Eyelids fluttering close, he almost forgot she had said anything at all.

"You kissed me." She muttered.

"I did." He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. Heart beating heavily, he felt it slip away, but was both relieved and electrified as she traced her fingers from his hair line to his cheek, where she rested her palm; and leaned forward so that their noses were almost touching. George stilled, mind racing as he tried to calculate what the girl was doing. It faintly crossed him to close the distance and press his lips to hers at last, but he couldn't bring himself to.

But before anything could happen, McGonagall stepped through the portrait hole.

"O'Reilly!" She thrilled, rolling the r in her Scottish accent. "Have you seen the Weasley-Oh! Weasley?" She stopped as George popped his head up. The ancient woman's initial expression of worry and urgency shifted to a dawn of realization, and then a lifted eyebrow and stern yet sparkling look as her eyes drifted between the two students.

"Miss O'Reilly, please retrieve the other Mr. Weasley and their sister."

George scooted off of the girl, and watched as she nodded quickly and headed up the boys dormitory; then, turning back to the Professor, he gave a lopsided grin.

"We aren't in trouble are we, dearest Professor?"

"I'm afraid not, ."

In all seriousness, he felt his grin drop, and the color drain from his face as he searched the woman's eyes for any indication for what was happening. It dawned on him that there must be some family emergency – perhaps Charlie had been injured in Romania, it was no wonder he hadn't before now, working with the giant beast. Fred came tumbling down the stairs, his eyes still bleary and dressed in old faded blue pajama pants and an old Christmas sweater with a bright yellow 'F' stitched to the front.

"We didn't do it." He mumbled sleepily, with a great big yawn.

"We're not in trouble, Fred."

Mavis shot him a fearful glance as she ran up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. A minute later she reappeared with a scrambling Ginny, who hastily snatched the robe that the older girl was holding, and wrapped it around herself. McGonagall motioned for the gingers to fallow her through the portrait hole, but George lingered a moment in the frame, looking at a very confused Mavis.

"I'll be back soon." He promised and watched with a helpless feeling as she nodded slowly.

A/N: Um I realized a very BIG mistake in my storyline, and that is that Fred and George are 7th years in book 5, not 6th years. Its only really mentioned in the first chapter after the prologue, that they are a year under Mavis, so I'll correct that at the same time that I put up the next chapter. Elsewhere in the story it just references that Mavis is older than them, which is fine. Sorry for my weird mix up, I don't know why I thought they were younger than they were!

R&R please and thank you!