𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲-𝐨𝐧-𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 [ george weasley ]

➵ nine | rise to the occasion

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘-𝐎𝐍-𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄
chapter eight ─ rise to the occasion
(of catching things that fall)

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Dear Padfoot,
You're a kind soul,
And a work of art.
Of all these stars above us,
I'd dare you to have my heart.
Mystery Girl.

Dear Mystery Girl,
You are one soppy git.
Padfoot.

Heidi mourned the apparently recent death of romance as she tucked Pride and Prejudice back into her bag, resisting the urge to glare across the library table at its killer, who had spent the last hour on the same three transfiguration theory questions. It would have been funnier if they hadn't been third year level.

"I'm never going to get this," George said miserably. He had said the same thing on the first day Heidi had met him in the library, the two of them armed with books, quills, and resentment. The difference was, on that first day he had looked at her like a lifeline. Now he was not looking at her at all.

Heidi took a deep breath. "You will get it, if you put in the work," she said gently. She had said the same thing on the first day, despite her still jaded feelings against George after the prank he had pulled. The difference was that on the first day she would have been willing to see him fail. She was tired now, but she would save him if it killed her.

Martyrdom. It was less noble when it was figurative.

"I have been! Do you not see how much work I've been putting in?"

Heidi shrugged. "We just need a different way to study. We'll get there."

She wasn't sure they would, but she couldn't say that to him. She would try, and he would try, and that would have to be enough. Heidi and George ─ not the most formidable team, but the only team there was.

"The test is in four days, Heidi." The skin under George's eyes was marred by purple shadows. "I have no idea what any of this means."

"That means we have those four days, and I know what all of it means." Heidi said. "We can meet up every day, before quidditch practice." In the aftermath of their loss against Hufflepuff, Oliver had taken to training the quidditch team every evening.

George sighed. Those would be long days ─ school, studying, practice, the detention he and Fred were still serving after the Incident, sleep. Rinse and repeat. "Okay, that sounds good. I mean, it sounds awful, but ─"

"It sounds good," Heidi finished, smiling for him.

There was nothing overtly malicious between the two of them anymore, not really. George still bristled slightly when the volume of Heidi's voice rose too high, and Heidi still rolled her eyes at George's attempts to make her laugh. But there were smiles now, and ongoing jokes, and blossoms blooming in Heidi's chest that even the November chill couldn't kill.