Blue moon ; George Weasley

Sixteen

"You've got to be kidding me, Angie!"

Angelina Johnson, the quidditch captain. She thought that the best way to get the team into shape for the game tomorrow was to run around the pitch instead of getting up into the air.

They had worked so hard the last month, working on strategies, how to beat Slytherin so tonight was all about working out.

Fred had been the one shouting when Angie ordered the team to run laps.

"Do you want to win or not?!" Angelina shouted back. "We need to train our leg muscles!"

Fred mocked her quietly so that only Esme could hear, and the sixteen-year-old girl, bit back her laughter.

She swatted Fred's upper arm, then started jogging backwards.

"It's not that bad!" She shouted at him, then turned around and started running.

"See, that's the spirit!" Angelina shouted. "Now, get running or I will kick you all of this team!"

The team got running and George caught up to Esme, grinning from ear to ear.

"Arse kisser." He whispered, then sped up and Esme narrowed her eyes.

Practice quickly turned into a competition for the two of them, chasing each other to see who was the fastest.

Sure, George had the longest legs, but Esme was a chaser for a reason. She was a fast flyer but also a fast runner and she quickly got in front of him.

They were both laughing and eventually, the entire team stopped up to look at what they were doing.

Angelina placed her hands on her hips, eyes focused on George and the way he seemed way too happy running with Esme.

She looked towards Fred to bit his lip and shrugged. He didn't want to out his brothers feelings, but at the same time, he felt bad that Angelina was so focused on their relationship while George obviously wasn't.

Angelina couldn't help but feel a stab in her heart and if it hadn't been for her current role as captain captain, she would've let the emotions show.

Instead, she blew her whistle in the same second that Esme fell, landing chest first in a puddle of mud.

"Well that's lovely." George commented while walking towards me, laughing. "Need a hand?"

Esme looked up at him.

"That might not be a good idea. Not unless you wanna land down here with me." She said, and he put his hands behind his back, smiling at her.

Esme got to her feet, looking at her uniform which was almost covered in mud.

"Your hair." He chuckled, reaching out towards the strands of Esme's hair that was covered in mud.

"George!" Angelina's voice could be heard from the other side of the quidditch pitch. "Can I talk to you?!"

Esme looked towards Angelina who looked rather angry. She was surrounded by the rest of the team — Fred, Harry, Ron and Alicia.

George sighed and then he suddenly looked terrified before he followed Angelina towards the dressing rooms.

Esme jogged back over to the team while she pulled her muddy hair back.

"What was that all about?" She asked, and Fred immediately looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

How in the world could this girl in front of him be that oblivious.

"Seriously?" He asked, sighing loudly. "One day, Esme... one day."

That only confused Esme even more but she didn't press him any further. He was being weird.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Ron asked. "The match is tomorrow."

Harry shrugged

"Wait... I guess."

"Or..." Esme suggested. "...you could start running like Angie told us to do."

"Nope." Fred yawned. "I'm taking a nap in the grass until they're back."

He walked over, dropped himself into the grass and put his arms behind his head as he closed his eyes.

Esme asked over, kicked him gently in the side which caused him to laugh and move out of the way.

"You know I'm ticklish. Don't do that!"

"Get up." Esme said. "Angie's gonna get back and she's gonna yell. You know I hate it when she yells."

Fred groaned when Esme kicked him again, but this time he sat up, running his hands through his hair. He looked up and narrowed his eyes.

"It's gonna rain again." He said, pointing at the sky and Esme looked up before sighing.

"Well, at least the mud will wash off."

"Night!" Angelina's voice screamed through the air and Esme quickly spun around, eyes wide before she saw Angie and George over by the dressing rooms.

Angelina was calling her over and Esme didn't know why.

"Don't go." Fred spoke. "She's gonna kill you."

"Kill me?" Esme frowned down at Fred. "Why would she do that?"

"Why do you think? For flirting with her boyfriend."

"I wasn't—"

"Get your arse over here!" Angelina screamed and Esme was too afraid to not obey.

When she got over there, she looked at Angelina who had never looked angrier.

"Get in there." She told both Esme and George, and Esme went first, not knowing what was about to go down.

George slid in behind Esme and dropped down on one of the benches, looking awfully embarrassed, but why, Esme didn't know.

Angelina shut the door, then turned towards the two of her players, folding her arms over her chest.

"How long have you been fucking George?" She asked and stared right at Esme whose eyes widened.

"What?" She choked out as George stood up.

"Angie, that's— we've never— Esme and I— we're not—"

"You look at him like you're dating him." Angelina continued. "I've never had anything against you, Esme and I certainly didn't see you as a home wrecker."

"Angie—" George tried but was cut off again.

"How long have you been fucking?" She asked Esme who was completely shocked.

Then she started laughing.

Angelina frowned while George pushed before slowly turning to look at Esme.

Esme clamped a hand over her mouth, laughing so much that her stomach hurt.

And when she stopped, she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall.

"I just got out of a relationship, Angie." She said. "I am not sleeping with George or with anyone else. I have never slept with him and I don't know why you think I have, so please explain that to me."

Angelina looked at George for some kind of explanation and he felt trapped. He stood there, between the girl he loved and the girl he was supposed to love.

Did he feel bad? Yes. Incredibly bad.

Did he have the guts to do anything about it? No, but he knew he had to force himself to speak the truth.

"I'm sorry, Angie." He spoke. "I don't want to do this and especially not the day before a game, but I can't be in a relationship with you."

Esme's eyes widened and she took a step back. She needed to get out of there. This had nothing to do with her.

Or so she thought.

George's next words proved her wrong.

"I'm in love with Esme."