Chapter Seventeen

~Nellie~

A firm hand shook me out of my slumber. "Nellie? Nellie, wake up!"

My eyes sprung open and I shoved myself upright. Angelina was standing over me, her own eyes wide as she stared at me. I cleared my throat and scratched the back of my neck. "Hi," I said awkwardly, dragging out the single syllable. "Um, what can I do for you?"

She moved back a step, no longer hovering just above me. Her hand fell from my shoulder back to her side. "You've been asleep all day. I was just making sure that you're okay. What time did you get back to the tower last night?"

"Late," I answered, evasive. I pushed the blankets off my legs, suddenly sweating beneath all the covers. I glanced around. The sun was high in the sky outside the window. "Er, what time is it?"

"Few hours till dinner. I was going to wake you up sooner, but Alicia said to let you sleep." Angelina laughed a little, tucking her hair behind her ear. "But George has been asking after you all day, and I couldn't take it anymore. He's been driving me nutty, so if you'd be willing to set his mind at ease, I'd greatly appreciate it."

I smiled a little and swung my legs out of bed. "Yeah, I suppose I could do that." Angelina grinned and moved toward the door. "Thanks for letting me know." She nodded in affirmation before disappearing out of the dormitory and down the stairs.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. I pressed my forehead against the palms of my hands and closed my eyes tightly. Why were my hands trembling? I was worried that if I attempted to stand, I wouldn't be able to put any weight on my legs and they would collapse out from under me. My stomach ached. What was happening?

You've missed at least two meals, I reminded myself. You're just feeling a little weak. You just need to eat something.

That sounded great in theory, but something told me that that wasn't quite all of it. In any case, I pushed myself to my feet, only wobbling a little, and went to my trunk of clothing. I dressed slowly, my movements lethargic. Why was George asking after me? What had him so worried that he wouldn't cease pestering Angelina until he saw me? But, of course, how could I have forgotten that he'd asked to speak to me today? Without Fred, at that, which already had me set somewhat on edge. What could he want to talk about that Fred wouldn't be able to hear?

Once I'd dressed and wrested some semblance of control over my hair, I slipped out of the dormitory and down the stairs. The common room was eerily quiet, which would be considered unusual on any other occasion. Considering the events of the day before, I wasn't surprised, but the contrast was a little jarring nonetheless.

A few first-years were seated around one of the tables, heads bent low over their parchments, likely working on an assignment of some sort. A third-year was reading in an armchair by the fire. None of them looked up as I walked in, which was fine. They weren't who I was looking for.

A hand touched the small of my back and I jumped, stifling a shriek. The hand moved up further to rest on my shoulder, and I turned my head to look behind me just as George stepped forward so I could see him. There was a soft, easygoing smile on his face. "Walked right past me. Glad to see my friendship is appreciated," he said, the small smile slipping into a smirk.

I didn't know how to respond to that. "It is," I said, after too long of a pause.

If he noticed how awkward I made things, he didn't say anything about it. His hand slid down from my shoulder to grip my fingers tightly. He began to walk, forcing me to stumble along beside him. "You doing okay?" he said, lowering his voice. "You've been asleep for ages."

"Yesterday took a lot out of me," I said honestly, stepping through the portrait hole behind him. It must've; I'd never been so exhausted after a vision before. But George didn't know that, of course.

He glanced down at me as we strode off down a corridor, hand still holding mine. "That's actually one of the things I wanted to ask you," he said. "What happened yesterday? You - you were freaking out, and then you were gone with Dumbledore and McGonagall and Snape, and suddenly you're just - " He broke off for a moment, swallowing thickly. "Suddenly you're in the hospital wing, and Fred and I have no idea what's happened to you."

We were still walking, his long strides making me almost jog after him, the only thing keeping me in line with him being his tight grip on my hand. Somehow, in all of the commotion last night, what he and Fred were feeling completely slipped my mind. How could I have been so careless as to not realize that my best friends in this school would be worried about me freaking out and taking off so suddenly? I was so wrapped up in Harry and Cedric... "I'm sorry," I said quietly, hoping he could hear me over the sound of our rapid footsteps against the corridor floor.

He glanced down at me, and there was a soft, if somewhat tense, smile on his face. "I know. We're not upset with you - er, at least, I'm not. I don't know about Fred." George laughed a little, but the sound was hollow. "I just - "

He broke off, pulling me to the side and pushing me through a half open doorway into an empty classroom. He let go of my hand in favor of yanking the door shut behind us. With it closed, he pressed his back against the wood and breathed deeply. My heart was beating uncomfortably quickly in my chest from where I stood in the middle of the room. Why were we in here?

"George?" I said tentatively, after a few moments of silence.

The expression on his face was almost frightening. I'd rarely seen him look so serious, but his lips were pressed into a hard line and his eyes were shut tight. The only movement was the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled, almost laboriously, like he was forcing himself to do it. After another beat of silence, his brown eyes opened. "I just want to know what happened," he said. "I feel like - " He paused, swallowing. "I feel like there's something you're not telling us. Not telling me."

My blood ran cold. He suspects something, I thought frantically. Oh, bloody hell, how am I going to get myself out of this one? I can't tell him. Not now, not yet. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said slowly, evasively.

"Why did you wake up and immediately start panicking?" he said, taking a few steps closer to me. Instinctively, I took an equal number of steps back. "Why'd you go running to Dumbledore? Where did you go?"

My breath caught in my throat. "George - "

"I just want to know."

How much could I tell him without telling him everything? "I..." I trailed off. George was gazing expectantly at me. Oh, Merlin, I hated lying to him. "I had a nightmare. Like the first night of term, when you and your brother sat with me in the common room," I said hesitantly. He nodded, seeming to remember. I went on. "So, when I woke up I was terrified. And then it turned out that Cedric had - had died, and that made it worse." I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. Still, George was silent, listening. "I saw Moody drag Harry off to the castle, and it seemed suspicious, and nobody appeared to have noticed except for me. I had to do something."

"So you helped Dumbledore, McGonagall,and Snape find Moody and save Harry?" I nodded stiffly; George mirrored me. "But that doesn't explain how you ended up in the hospital wing."

Oh, no. How do I explain that? "Overexertion, I think Madame Pomfrey had said." I shook my head, scratching the back of my neck and praying that he wouldn't see through the half-lie. Nothing I'd said so far had been completely false. "I don't exactly remember. But I'm okay now. I promise."

George stared at me for a moment, seeming to take it all in. His silence was almost unbearable. "George," I said softly. He opened his mouth, but closed it again wordlessly. "George, say something."

He lifted a hand and pressed the tips of his fingers to his mouth. His eyes closed for a moment, and he breathed deeply. I took a step toward him, reaching out with one hand to grasp at his arm. When his eyes opened, they were slightly red, and there was a wobble in his voice when he finally spoke. "You had me so worried." His words were hardly louder than a whisper. He cleared his threat, scratching the back of his neck. This time, his voices was stronger. "And, um, Fred, too. He was scared as well. Don't think he'd ever admit it, though. Too bloody proud."

I flashed a humored smile, and his lips parted into a wide grin. "I'm sorry I worried you," I said. I moved forward, close enough to him to reach out and wrap him up in a hug. He held me tightly, nearly crushing me against his chest. My heart was about to beat straight out of mine. When did his body get so - firm? Or had I just never noticed? "Was that - " His arms tightened around me; my breathing hitched. "Was that all you brought me here for? To ask about last night?"

He took a step back, arms still encircling me. "Were you expecting something else?"

"Well, was there a reason you didn't want Fred here for this?"

George froze. "Oh," he said. "That." He gave an awkward laugh and let go of me, taking another step away. "I guess I did request that, didn't I?" I blinked; he cleared his throat again. His cheeks were almost as red as his hair. "I guess there...was something I wanted to talk to you about. Without him here, I mean."

I eyed him warily and sat on the edge of one of the tables, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. My stomach was clenched uncomfortably. Something felt wrong. "Why do I feel like I'm not going to like this conversation?" I said slowly.

"You will!" George burst out. "Or, at least, I hope you will," he added hastily. He strode toward me, standing close enough that I was forced to sit up straight so as not to have my face pressed into his stomach. Why did he have to be so tall? My pulse quickened. A better question would have been why did he suddenly appear so nervous? Something is definitely about to go wrong.

I attempted a smile and a short laugh, but even George could see that it was forced, which only made him seem more anxious than before. "Spit it out, then, George," I said, halfway joking. "Don't keep me in suspense."

I heard him swallow, watched his Adam's apple rise and fall in his throat. "Listen, I'm not very - I don't know how to - this isn't - you're - oh, bloody hell." He stopped and looked away from me, one hand in his shaggy hair. There was a humorless smile on his tense face.

"You're making me nervous," I said, brows furrowed. He still didn't look at me; his gaze was focused on the far wall. I reached out with my right hand and laid my palm against his shoulder, squeezing lightly, hoping it would come off as reassuring. "Hey, look at me." It took a few moments, but he finally turned his head back toward me, brown eyes immediately latching onto my gray ones. I set my left hand on his other shoulder now, trying on a smile. "Talk to me. You know you can tell me anything."

My hands raised and lowered with his shoulders as he sucked in a deep breath and let it out all at once. "I really thought this was going to be a lot easier than it is," he said, almost sounding like he was attempting a joke. The corners of his lips lifted into a small smirk and he set his hands on top of mine. A moment later, the words came tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. "It's just that I like you so much and I think I have for a while now, and you're just so incredible and beautiful and kind and I don't know why in the world you would ever be interested in someone like me but I really, really hope that you are."

He stopped speaking just as suddenly as he'd started, seeming almost breathless in his haste to get the words out. I was stunned; this hadn't been what I was expecting. Did he just - he did. He just confessed to fancying me. Oh, no, no, no... My mouth had dropped open slightly as my eyes widened. George was staring at me with a look of partially-concealed fear on his face. Neither of us said anything.

George cleared his threat and adjusted the collar of his shirt with fidgeting fingers. "Well, go on, then," he said with a short laugh. "Put me out of my misery already."

I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

He moved a little closer to me, and, considering my spot on the table, I was powerless to get further away from him. I dropped my hands back into my lap as one of his hands settled on my waist; I tried to ignore how natural it felt to have it there. My heart was racing, and I could hear blood rushing in my ears. The fingers on his free hand visibly shook as he extended them toward me, gently brushing against my cheek before cupping the side of my face. I couldn't catch my breath, his gaze was holding mine, his face was getting closer -

Stop, stop, STOP!

"No!" I said quickly, jerking my head backward and forcing him to remove his hand from my cheek. George jumped back from me as though I'd Stunned him, his brown eyes growing wide in horror. I pressed my hands over my mouth, trying to control their trembling. My stomach was twisted into knots; I felt as if I could vomit at any moment. The only thing rushing through my mind at the moment was George's limp and lifeless body lying beneath a heap of rubble in the destroyed remains of the castle. I couldn't do this. I couldn't put myself through it. But the look on his face alone had me wishing I could.

His gaze was directed at his shoes. The tips of his ears were bright red. "I'm sorry, I just thought - " He didn't finish his sentence, only exhaled shakily and looked up to the ceiling.

"It's okay," I said quickly, pushing myself off the table to stand in front of him. He recoiled; my stomach sank down to my toes. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. But I just - I can't - " I broke off. Where was I going with this? What could I possibly say to make it better? Oh, sorry, George, but I can't be with you because you're going to die in the somewhat near future. Absolutely not.

He looked down at me, his lips twisting into a small smile. "There's someone else, right?" I said nothing. He kept going. "It's Fred, isn't it." It wasn't a question; he spoke as though he was reciting a basic fact. I opened my mouth, but he didn't allow me to finish. Instead, he laughed. "Bloody git had it all wrong then, didn't he? Telling me that you had eyes for me, but it was him all along." He shook his head slowly; the smile on his face was forced.

"George - "

He cut me off with another smile, this one a little more real than the other had been. "It's alright, Nellie. You don't have to worry; I know when I'm beat. No hard feelings, except maybe toward Fred." He ran a hand through his hair again. "Don't worry; we can pretend this never happened." He laughed a little and extended a hand to me. "We should be getting to dinner. Come on."

There was so much I wanted to say to him. Part of me wanted to deny any feelings for Fred, but at the same time, the other part of me knew it would probably be easier to keep George as only a friend if he thought I fancied his brother. Not wanting to step on his brother's toes and all of that, I supposed. So, although everything in me was screaming to pull him back in and kiss him like he'd clearly intended, I took his hand and allowed him to pull me out of the room and down the corridors to the Great Hall, not a word spoken between us but a dull ache in my chest.

Fred was already seated at the Gryffindor table, picking at a serving of mashed potatoes. He looked up when we approached, his face brightening a little. "Where've you two been?" he asked, smiling at me as I sat down beside him.

George settled in on my other side and filled his plate, not acknowledging his twin had spoken. My stomach sank. Was this going to cause problems after all? He took a few bites of food and looked to Fred with a grin. "Had to rouse our dear friend Nellie from her slumber," he said with a chuckle. "She nearly slept the day away. Couldn't let her miss dinner."

Fred nodded and turned his gaze to me. His brown eyes were slightly narrowed in what I took as suspicion, but I plastered a smile to my face to dissuade any doubts about what George said. It wasn't as though he'd lied. "Where'd you run off to last night?" he asked.

I quickly filled him in, telling him the same half truths I'd told George, finishing up just before Dumbledore clinked his fork against his goblet. A hushed silence fell over the Great Hall. The air was heavy, pressing in on me from all sides. Several people at the Hufflepuff table were in near tears as the Headmaster began to speak. "Today, we acknowledge a really terrible loss." The air rushed out of my lungs; Fred's hand found mine beneath the table. Dumbledore got to his feet and approached the podium at the front of the room, still speaking. "Cedric Diggory was, as you all know, exceptionally hard-working, infinitely fair-minded, and, most importantly, a fierce, fierce friend. Now, I think, therefore, you have the right to know exactly how he died."

There were a few murmurs throughout the room as the old wizard continued. "You see, Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort." A collective gasp came from the students. I stayed silent. "The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. But not to do so, I think, would be an insult to his memory. Now, the pain we all feel at this dreadful loss reminds me, and reminds us, that while we may come from different places and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one. In light of recent events, the bonds of friendship we've made this year will be more important than ever."

George's hand sought mine out now. He didn't look at me, just squeezed my fingers and held on. Even so, there was a small smile on his face despite the depressing speech being given. And it was all I needed to know that, even though I'd flat out rejected him, things were still going to be okay.

"Remember that, and Cedric Diggory will not have died in vain," Dumbledore continued. "You remember that, and we'll celebrate a boy who was kind and honest, and brave and true, right to the very end."

oOoOo

Days passed. The end of term came and went all too quickly, and yet not quickly enough. After all of the events throughout the year, the last week or so especially, I was more than ready for the summer months. Fred, George, and I were standing at one of the windows overlooking the castle grounds, watching the French and Bulgarian students preparing to leave. Madame Maxime had caught me before her departure, pulling me into a tight hug and wishing me well with my remaining time at Hogwarts. I was touched to have her care so deeply for me. Even Fleur had seemed almost amicable to me before remarking how she couldn't wait to have my position as best dancer. I took it as a statement of endearment.

"Sad to see them go?" Fred asked from beside me. The Beauxbaton carriage and winged horses were taking flight, heading back for France, as he spoke. The Hogwarts students around us were clapping and cheering.

I shrugged, looking up at him with a smile. "A little, I suppose. But I'm much happier where I am now than I ever was with them."

"Oh yeah?" George said, reaching out to muss my hair with his hand. "And why would that be, Nell?"

Things had been much less tense than I had assumed they were going to be since I turned George down. He didn't behave much differently toward me than he had before, which I suppose I was thankful for. It was certainly a heavy weight lifted off my chest. I didn't want things to be weird; fortunately, with the two of them being who they were, "weird" was a constant commodity. It would be exceedingly difficult to extend past their usual oddness.

I tilted my head back to grin up at him, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. "Thanks to the two of you, of course."

The three of us laughed, but I could tell by their faces that they were touched. Really, though, my year at Hogwarts would have gone a lot worse had I not had the two of them by my side. I could never repay them enough for their unyielding friendship.

"You'll come visit us this summer, won't you?" Fred asked.

I shrugged, smirking. "If you'd like, sure. Send an owl and I'll be right over. Wouldn't miss it for the world." It wasn't an exaggeration in the slightest.

"We should get to the train," George said, turning to lead the way to the Hogwarts Express. "Got to make sure we get a good compartment."

As Fred jogged to catch up with his brother, I paused a moment, staring after the two of them. I wasn't sure how I'd managed to get so lucky as to gain the two of them as friends, but I was so thankful to have them. Even disregarding my infatuation with George, their company was all I ever wanted, and I was desperately hopeful they would continue to want me around. I wanted them for as long as I could have them. My vision from the Yule Ball had been a constant nag on my mind since it happened, but it'd seemed even more present after George's confession. No matter what happened, no matter how soon the events I'd seen would come to pass, I would do my best to remain positive and happy when with them. The worrying, the grieving, could come later.

"Nellie!"

I snapped my head up. The twins had stopped walking and were turned back toward me, broad smiles on their faces. "Come on, let's go!" they chorused.

Breaking into a grin, I ran after them, my laughter escaping into the open air. Yes, later. All the pain could come later. For now, there was only the three of us, and all the joy in the world.

End of The Goblet of Fire.

We made it, y'all! I'll be putting up a chapter or two of in between time before Order of the Phoenix starts, so be looking forward to that. Nellie's story isn't over yet! See you all in the next update!