If You'll Have Me | George Weasley

Chapter 9

JULY NIGHTS were as brutal as the daytime, even after the sun had hid away behind the horizon. That was the one thing that Eleanor thoroughly enjoyed about England, though. About being here. That even though the stars were now visible, and the moon hung high, the day didn't quite seem to end. Not when she was with him.

Eleanor didn't bother to slip on her shoes as George hurried her out of the house, and instead, stepped barefoot against the sun dried grass. Against the stray pebbles and fallen debris from the trees, and even though it hurt slightly, she didn't care. It was freeing—Not caring.

"This is a horrible idea." She laughs, as they had no towels, and no change of clothes except the ones on their backs. But George didn't seem worried, and as he tells her to loosen up, she glares at him playfully. He had been quoting her from the night before when they danced, and he had been so tense and clueless when he was so often the opposite. The thought humored her.

The creek was moving slowly with the slight breeze that brushed by, the sound of the running water getting lost amongst the noise of the crickets and frogs. It was almost a deafening kind of white noise, but peaceful all the same.

"Fred and I actually used to do this all the time." George says, kicking off his shoes. "Mum would get so mad at us—Always sneaking away at night."

"Where to?"

"Anywhere. Mostly to Diagon Alley when we were bored. That's how we got so close to Tom, actually. Ended up at the Leaky Cauldron one night after Fred set off a Dungbomb in Gambol and Japes. It's inevitable for accidents to happen in joke shops like that, of course, but those things are downright nasty."

"So you wanted everyone else in that stuffy pub to suffer too?" Eleanor smiles.

"After that, you'd need a drink too. Tom gave us some on the house just so we'd leave." He laughs, slipping his thumbs past the waistband of his sweats and lowering them slightly. "You gonna gawk all day, Wright?"

Eleanor feels the heat rising to her cheeks and fixates her gaze on the water instead, shaking her head as he lowers them further. "Nobody was looking, Weasley."

But God, was it hard not to look.

He chuckles, lifting his shirt over his head as Eleanor lowers her foot into the creek, sending the water rippling around her toe. It didn't feel too cold, but she knew that it'd feel much worse once her entire body was in.

There is a loud splash, and she turns to see that George is gone, the water rippling in the spot that he landed. It was deep enough that he disappears a moment before rising to the surface, slicking his hair back to clear his view.

"Come on!" He yells, and Eleanor stiffens, her arms still wrapped around herself.

"Is it cold?"

A devious grin flashes across his mouth. "I don't know, you tell me." He says, cupping his hand and sending a wave of water in her direction. A few droplets land on her just before she sends a nasty glare his way.

"You asshole!"

"Get in!"

She puts a foot in, and then the other, and not a moment later does George reach forward to grab her by the waist, pulling her in with him. He laughs at her squealing, and the look on her face as the cold rushes up through her spine and arms. "Merlin! I was gonna ease into it!"

"That's the worst way to do it." George laughs, loosening his grip on her before treading back.

It was too late turn back now. The water had already seeped into her t-shirt and shorts, the only dry thing being her hair. "Shit." Eleanor murmurs, and rashly decides to lower herself further into the creek, submerging her head beneath the water before rising again, swiping away the droplets that clung to her eyelashes. The cold seemed to seep into her bones before the feeling started to subside, and a satisfied look casts across George's face as the tension lifts from her body.