wood ; george weasley

03

George found Amara the next week in the library. She seemed to be there a lot, but she was a Ravenclaw, he thought, they were all geeks anyways. He walked up to her with a smile and tapped her shoulder. She put a strand of her behind her ear -- which she seemed to do a lot -- and smiled back.

"Hi, George. How can I help you?"

He sighed, sitting next to her.

"It's Snape. I hate him, I really do! He's always on my back just because I'm a Gryffindor. He does all those weird ass potions but can't brew himself some shampoo?"

She laughed lightly.

"Don't you think he might be on your back because you filled his office with foam last Tuesday?"

"No, no. I'm sure it's because of my house."

There was a small pause in their conversation, until the red-head broke it.

"I know you're a year younger, but can you please help me with this essay?"

Although her ego was inflated by the request, Amara hesitated. She was afraid she couldn't help him, because the topics George was being taught were far more advanced than hers.

"What makes you think I can?" she asked him

He snorted like it was obvious.

"You're a Ravenclaw! You're supposed to know this."

Amara was taken aback. This was a topic that she took very much to heart, and she despised how everyone kept assuming that all the students in her house were good at school. Ravenclaws were allowed to struggle too.

"Ravenclaw's aren't all academically driven." she said slightly offended "In fact, the only IQ-related requirement for getting into it is to be more intelligent than a Weasley, so I'd say the bar is pretty low."

Amara turned a bit pale as she finished talking, as she cursed herself because George was only a new acquaintance, and hence didn't know her humour very well. But, to her surprise, he laughed.

"C'mon," he said "just check it out. If you don't understand it that's alright."

She revised the topic. It was surprisingly easy. Maybe she was just that smart, she grinned to herself, or George was just that stupid.
As she shortly explained the topic to him and helped him plan the outline for the essay, the boy began to drift from the topic.

"I don't really care much for these things unless they can help me and Fred with our pranks. That's what I wanna do some day, you know? Maybe even run a joke shop! Like Zonco's, that place is Heaven. Can you imagine? The Weasley Twin's Joke Shop: The Best Joke Shop There Is It Is Even Better Than Zoncos! We're still working on the name though."

She looked at him quizzically, admiring how he could be so passionate about it. He noticed her stare and turned slightly red, matching his hair.

"What would you like to do once you get out of here?" he asked her

"I'm only on second year, so I don't really know what I want to do." Amara replied truthfully "My brother obviously wants to be a Quidditch player, though, he's dreamed of it ever since he found out brooms could fly."

"So I'm guessing he's on the team, then?"

"Yeah, he is, actually. He's the best keeper in the entire school."

George laughed.

"No offense, but I don't think any Ravenclaw's at the moment would be chosen for a professional draft."

She looked at him confused, slowly coming to the realization that George had no idea of who she was, or who her brother was for that matter.

"No wonder you aren't a Ravenclaw." she said standing up, patting his shoulder like a child on her way out.

"Where are you going?" the twin called after her

"To the kitchens. I feel like cooking, so Dobby let me use them. Plus there's this Italian Tomato Sauce that I've been meaning to try."

George hesitated for a bit on whether he should ask to go with her. Instead, he said:

"Add a little bit of sugar to it," he smiled remembering his mom's old kitchen trick for tomato sauce "it helps make it less acid."

Amara smiled in return. "I find that adding honey instead is much better."

With that, she turned around and continued walking, silently scolding herself; always wanting the upper-hand was one of her biggest flaws and she knew it. She really needed to work on being less of a know-it-all.

"You should add some sugar to yourself," she mumbled to herself "so you're less of an acid bitch."