twenty seven

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The air between them had grown suddenly thicker

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The air between them had grown suddenly thicker. Even as drunk as he was, George could recognise that.

He was smiling down at Lisa awkwardly, "I'm sorry, I just ... I don't feel like kissing anyone tonight."

It was a fib. He had abandoned his brother with the intent of kissing somebody, but Lisa Daniels just didn't happen to be the one he intended to kiss.

The blond batted her eyelids bemusedly, breaking their gaze and letting her hand slip from where it was resting on his arm, "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't ... I thought--"

"Don't be sorry," George tried to cushion the blow, "Nothing to be sorry about. Just not ... feeling it, ya' know?"

When Lisa had stopped him to chat, he'd been surprised - they'd barely spoken since Valentine's Day and George had taken that as a sign that they both understood that their date in Madam Puddifoot's was a one time thing.

With that in mind, he'd invited her to the party without a second thought - but Lisa trying to kiss him had his surprise grow to shock and he pulled back before their faces met.

Lisa's generally snowy white face had turned a deep red and she still didn't look up at him, instead she fiddled with the ends of her sky blue blazer. "Right well, I just thought after Valentine's Day ..." She trailed off, "Maybe I should just go."

Before George had a chance to open his mouth and make things worse, she had disappeared through the crowd. Perhaps if he was less drunk he would've chased after her in an attempt to soothe the outright rejection he'd just dropped in Lisa's lap - but he had other things on his mind, more along the lines of beautiful Hufflepuff girls with enchanting hazel eyes.

Electing to deal with Lisa once he had sobered up, George pushed through the masses of people again - some rock song by The Weird Sisters blasting from what sounded like every corner of the Quidditch pitch.

He wandered over to the drinks table, the corner where he found Diego smoking Pixie Dust with a Ravenclaw he didn't recognise and even to the table where Lee's friend Jasper was controlling the music. She wasn't there.

From the added height the DJ booth offered over the people at the party, George allowed his gaze to cross over the heads of people. It took less than a few moments to find her: Marigold was near the centre of the dance floor - Winslow and Elin floating around her - his eyes narrowed and the contents of his stomach began to boil. Dancing pressed up against her was the last person he ever expected to find there: Roger Davies.

Marigold, though not entirely sure how, had stumbled her way into the masses of moving bodies with Elin and had been dancing for less than a few minutes when an almost equally drunk Roger Davies knocked into her, striking up conversation.

His bright white smile had curled up at both ends, that long chestnut brown hair was swept over his forehead and he'd said something ridiculously charming like "looking beautiful tonight, Goldie" and Marigold's cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree.

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