Undesirable (George Weasley)

18

I muttered the phrase "chocolate frogs" to the statues that guarded Dumbledore's entrance, jumping back as they began to move from the staircase ahead. Nodding, I motioned for us to move up the stairs.

Upon arriving, I felt uneasy as I've only ever been in here once before. I was nervous that Dumbledore would be upset, as he had just coke from the first t ask like ourselves. But instead, he motioned for us to come in, whisking his wand to have two, broad wooden chairs appear in front of his desk.

"Welcome, Miss. LaBelle. I expected your visit soon. And welcome, Mr. Weasley. What do I have the pleasure to have a visit from yourselves?" He asked, looking over his half-moon spectacles. Taking a seat, I fumbled with the hem of George's sweater.

"Sir, I would like to have George in on what's been going on. I need help, you see. It's been really hard on me trying to do everything on my own." I started, Dumbledore's eyes full of understanding. He nodded, then offered me a lemon drop. I declined, but George eagerly grabbed one.

"Yes, I've heard of your visits to Madam Pomfry. I believe allowing Mr. Weasley to aid you and I this year would be a smart idea, as he is not directly involved. I also would like to have an update as to how to proceed."

I sighed. Filling George in on everything that was to happen, between how Professor Moody wasn't actually him, all the way to Cedric's death. I hadn't shared everything with Dumbledore, but I felt now was truly the right time.

George's reaction was what I had expected, the fear of death being an incredibly true and terrible occurrence. He grabbed my hand, now understanding the full extent to the stress I have been feeling over the past couple of months.

"Professor, there are a few details I've left out. I think that now, after the first task and the sorting, it's important to tell you some." He encouraged me to speak further. "We discussed Professor Moody not being himself. I assume you continue to pretend you don't know?"

"I do. I'm not sure who he is, but there are little details that are different from the Alastor I knew. He's trained well though, and if I hadn't known he was an imposter I wouldn't have thought as hard about them as I am now."

"It's important that, until the third task, we don't let him know. He's the reason that Harry has done so well so far, and I don't want to jeopardize anything further. But I do want us to be prepared before the third task."

"Who is he, Miss LaBelle?" He questioned, and my hand began to shake.

"Barty Crouch Junior, Sir. He escaped Azkaban, and will tamper with the Tri-Wizard cup. He's been tampering with the whole tournament, making it so Harry will win. He needs Harry to get to the cup, and only Harry, but being who Harry is he allows Cedric and him to grab it thinking they both would be champions. The cup, it's a port key. He's trying to revive Voldemort." George shivered at the name, and Dumbledore's eyes flashed with surprise. I hadn't expected him to allow his walls to break down, yet here he was, fear stricken by the idea of a second wizarding war.

"I see. We must not allow Barty to get to the cup. I will make sure for it to be seen specially by me only. As for Cedric, if he does manage to tamper with the cup, we must warn Harry to not allow anyone to touch it. We mustn't worry about the future too much, as the 2nd task hasn't even occurred yet. As you said, Miss LaBalle, we must keep the timeline intact until it's ready to act. Be a normal teenager for now. You've done what you can, and we will speak more the closer it gets to the final task. I believe you have a celebration to attend?" He cocked his eyebrows, and George shrunk under his gaze.

We both left his office, George a little quicker then I, as his secret party devoted towards our Gryffindor champion had been quickly discovered.

I don't know what I had expected when walking into the common room, but it sure wasn't Fred taking body shots off of Angelina. Yelping,I averted my eyes and tried to find any other interesting aspect to look at, not wanting to see anymore of my friend drunk then needed.

"Drink?" Fire whiskey sloshed against George's sweater, as Lee attempted to hand me a cup.

"I'll get my own, thanks." I cringed, not knowing where the cup had been, and decided I was better off finding an opened bottle somewhere else.

Before I had the chance, Harry walked in carrying the Golden Egg from the first task. Cheering stilted from around us, and I instinctively grabbed my ears. Before I could reach George to warn him, Harry opened the egg, admitted a deafening squeal. The crowd gasped, clutching their ears in both disgust and pain, while Harry fumbled to finally close the egg.

"Bloody hell was that?!" Ron, who had avoided Harry from the moment he was a champion, yelled from the good of the stairs. The room went silent, as the egg had really killed the party mood.

"Alright, this will be awkward enough without you blokes listening in." Fred yelled, and the party seemed to take the hint. Everyone scattered while Ron engage in a conversation with Harry, finally setting an end to their feud.

"Come on, love. We'll take the party upstairs." He whispered in my eating, watching as Fred, Lee, and Angelina began to sneak fire whiskey into their dorm room. Grabbing my hand, he led me up the stairs, a few steps down the hall, then opened the dorm room.

"The lovebirds join us!" Fred yelled, earning him a smack on the head from George.

I leaned against the edge of the bed, yelping when George grabbed my legs from behind. He pulled me into his chest, laughing at my shocked face. The next moment, George flicked his wand, and in the corner, a small record player began playing. He swayed me against the song, laughing as I hid my now red face against his sweater.

"Drink?" Fred offered, and I gladly accepted.

"Angelina!" I called, as she turned her head my way. "This ones for you!" I yelled, downing the remains of the fire whiskey in the cup. She giggled, as George looked down at me with wide eyes.

"What?" I pouted, grabbing another cup from the edge of the table. "This ones for you, Georgie."