xli. denial and dragons

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forty one

denial and dragons

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For many days after, Ottilie thought a lot about how George Weasley had thrown a Slytherin much larger than himself to the ground for her. She couldn't stop mentally replaying how angry he'd seemed. Angry on her behalf.

Over the countless times she'd been bullied since primary school—called Mudblood or other names, had things stolen from her, been excluded—she didn't think anyone had ever stood up for her quite so forcefully. He'd basically fought someone for her!

Before, she'd known that George liked her fine. But, she had always assumed it was primarily because she was useful to him. That if she weren't an Animagus or not very good at potions, he would soon forget her.

Now, it was clear. George Weasley cared for her.

A day before the first task, nearly a month since Ottilie had last spoken to George, he came to find her first.

She had just returned Binns's Inca book in exchange for one on the Babylonians when she nearly ran into him where he was standing just around the corner.

"For god's sake, you have got to stop doing that to me," she said after flinching away.

His smile was crooked. "Sorry."

Neither spoke for a few moments after that. George suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"I think I have a few things to say to you," he said. "The first being a thank you for not letting Warrington curse me with my back turned."

Ottilie grimaced. "I think you already repaid me and more for that one."

George scoffed. "I've wanted to do that to Warrington for years, so I should still be thanking you just for the opportunity."

She laughed softly.

"Anyway, I've been thinking about the Polyjuice thing, and I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have gotten as angry with you as I did," said George, and Ottilie's heart stopped. She hoped he would never mention it again. "You were trying to help me. I understand that now. Maybe I should have thought more about the fact Fred and I were asking you to help us enter into a dangerous tournament illegally and that I wasn't taking no for an answer when you were clearly trying to tell me you were uncomfortable."

Ottilie paused. She wanted to accept George's apology and move on but felt uneasy.

"You weren't out of bounds to be angry," said Ottilie. "I agreed to help you with something, and didn't follow through with it. You were right when you said I took a choice away from you. If I were you, I would still be angry at me."

Taking away choices—controlling information—in the name of keeping someone safe was something Ottilie was incredibly used to. Especially at Hogwarts.

"Well, I'm not angry," said George. "Friends again?"

Ottilie pretended to wince. "If you don't say it cheesy like that."

George grinned. He glanced around the corridor as if ensuring they were alone. When he turned back, his grin had grown twice as mischievous.

"Now that that's settled, I want to show you something."

She hesitated. "What?"

"Well, I can't just tell you. It'll ruin the suspense. But I guarantee you'll like it," he said. "So, here's the plan: At ten tonight, I'll be waiting for you to meet me by the gates to Hogsmeade. Okay?"

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