Before the Dawn | George Weasley

19

That night, I slipped out of the Slytherin common room without a word, wearing a green jumper I'd lifted from Jamie's trunk and black jeans. 

Embarrassingly enough, I had spent quite a bit of time getting ready, my pale hair falling in smooth curls around my shoulders and a bit of black liner swiped across my eyelids. Luckily, Jamie and Pansy had been too engrossed in a conversation about the Tournament to notice I had put in some extra effort. Catarina likely noticed, but, as usual, said nothing.

I crept through the school corridors warily, my boots scuffing against the stone floors as I kept a careful eye out for prefects. Luckily, none were between me and the Gryffindor common room, and only a short while later I stood before the Fat Lady's portrait.

She eyed me with distaste. "You aren't one of mine."

"No, I'm a guest," I explained softly, casting a look around to make sure nobody could hear us. "Could you let me in, please?"

"Password?" she prompted haughtily.

"I-I don't know the password." I silently cursed George for not sharing this valuable piece of information. "Can you just go tell George Weasley that I'm here? Please?"

She gave me a slow once-over before scoffing and disappearing from her frame. I was left alone in the stairwell, every creak and groan of the castle around me setting me more and more on edge. 

The Fat Lady seemed to be gone an eternity; I was beginning to consider just giving up and going back to bed.

Just when I had decided to leave, the Fat Lady returned. She gave me one last nasty look before her frame swung open, revealing a grinning George.

"You came!" he whispered with glee.

"It's a miracle I haven't gotten caught out here." I looked around nervously.

George wordlessly extended a hand, and I took it, allowing him to pull me into the Gryffindor common room. My eyes scanned the unfamiliar room, taking in its deep red walls and general cozy atmosphere. It was different from the Slytherin common room in almost every way possible.

My arrival was met by conflicting reviews. One half of the room broke into loud jeers and yells of disdain, while the other half—mostly the Quidditch team, and Neville—greeted me with cheers of welcome.

I froze in fear at the noisy reception, my hand still in George's. "Maybe I shouldn't have come."

"Nonsense." He blocked my attempted escape with a reassuring grin. "I'm happy you're here, if that counts for anything."

I held his gaze for a moment, then allowed him to usher me further into the common room. My eyes swept nervously over the Gryffindor students, picking out a few familiar faces but overwhelmed by the sheer number of those I didn't recognise.

Fred was the first to approach us, his gait a little exaggerated. He pressed a cup into my hand with a smile. "Here, drink this and join the party for real."

I looked down into the cup with a gulp. Firewhisky.

"You don't have to drink it," George's voice was close to my ear. "But seeing as everyone else here is already outrageously drunk, it might make it all a bit more fun.  Up to you."

I met his warm gaze, and gathered my courage before taking a large swig from the cup, the alcohol burning my throat as it went down. My eyes watered a little, but my body immediately relaxed.

"'Atta girl!" Katie Bell cheered from across the room, holding her own cup up in a toast. "The Slytherin is one of us!"

"Not quite!" Seamus Finnegan approached me with a mischievous glint in his eye and his necktie tied around his forehead. "I say we make her prove herself first."