Forget Me Not || George Weasley

Chapter 19

"There is something on your mind,"

Olive lifts her head at the change in song, distracted from the amusing argument transpiring between Ron and Hermione over whether or not they should order some more food.

She smiles slightly, a wave of warmth wrapping around her like a hug. Her grandfather had this song on a record at home. She remembers flipping the vinyl, lifting the needle on the muggle record player and setting it down so that he can dance with her grandmother. It had been a long time since she heard it. She remembers her grandfather's pain over hearing it almost as vividly as she remembers the joy it used to bring him.

Her brows furrow when she chances a glance across the table and sees that George is no longer brooding silently in his seat. She feels a pang of guilt. She'd been snotty when she'd run into him at St. Mungos. It was an accident. Not just the collision, but she knew that he regretted grabbing her the minute he had. It wasn't him that scared her. She'd never been scared of him.

She was scared of herself, and when George grabbed her arm she'd been most scared that she would crumble at his feet and he would do nothing but sneer. She would too, if a stranger ran into her and acted like a flighty bird. But she wasn't a stranger. Or at least, George wasn't a stranger to her. Not really.

She sighs and turns to Hermione, mumbling, "Maybe I should--What?"

Hermione is staring over her head, an odd expression of excitement and surprise coloring her new friend's face. Olive glances at Ron and Ginny and sees that the two of them are gaping like fish out of water while Harry just grins. Her brow furrows in confusion, but when she turns, she sees just what has captivated her table.

George Weasley is standing next to her, and he's smiling. He's smiling at her, and Olive feels something weird twisting in her belly and her lungs fill with clouds. George Weasley is smiling again, and she hopes to Merlin that she remembers it when she closes her eyes to sleep tonight.

Olive's lip's part in surprise when he leans down, his sturdy frame blocking the light from her face. He's bracing one hand on the table in front of her and uses the other to grab onto the back of her chair. Caging her in, but she feels the opposite of trapped. His voice is warm, steady, "Dance with me, Ollie."

Holy--

She nods her head up and down slowly before her jaw can unhinge itself in complete shock, taking his outstretched hand and coming willingly when he pulls her up onto to her feet. She blinks at the back of him as he wades through the crowd easily, and for a moment she wonders who had taken the place of George Weasley because this couldn't be him. She doesn't turn to look back at the table. She's scared of what she'll see.

George finds a clear spot in the part of the pub where people are sloppily coming together to dance. He turns, and she thanks Jackie in her head for telling her to wear her taller heels tonight because in that moment George sucks up the energy of the room and looks like he could fill the space with just his small smile. She wanted to feel tall, like she could measure up to that energy.

She blinks at him dumbly when his other hand hovers over her arm before asking loud enough for her to hear over the music, "Can I?"

Her heart thaws from the ice that had grown around it over the last week, and she answers with a wordless nod because she's afraid if she open's her mouth something weird and jumbled will come out. His smile doesn't go away when he gently grabs her arms and slings them up around his neck. Yep, she needed the heels. Her hands feel small against the back of his neck, and her lips tilt up in a smile before she can stop it. George quirks a brow, pulling her in closer, his hands gentle and warm on her hips.

It must be the alcohol, the reason why she is melting into George and letting him lead her in a slow dance that makes her cheeks flame. He sways with her, holding her carefully and possessively all at once. And Good Godric—George Weasley is good at dancing. Not in a showman, glamorous type of way. But he's leading her, guiding her, and he's confident in doing it. Olive's heart nears the danger of explosion when he leans down and asks lowly next to her ear, "How tall are you?"