Plot Twist [GEORGE WEASLEY]

23.

Mid October embarked onto the vicinity of Hogwarts in the form of cold weather. Clouds hid the sky, making many wonder if the sun would ever come back. Rain hammered the windows with its droplets. Petrichor drifted into noses as the aftermath. Shivering students hugged their blankets close to their bodies for warmth.

Amara had woken earlier. Careful to be silent, she pulled on her sweater before they opened their eyes. She could not handle the awkward glances. One of the benefits of waking up early was the quiet halls. Everyone clung to sleep as much as they could.

She slid into her seat, books thudding on the table. Luna, an early bird, greeted her with a nod. Amitee waved from behind her magazine, Vogue. On the cover was a woman wearing an intricate gown. Her red lips pouted at the reader. "What are you reading, Amitee?" Amara questioned.

"Vogue fashion magazine. It's a muggle publication. They have the latest fashion trends," the girl replied, eyes still focused on the magazine.

Amara nodded in understanding.

Two thuds rattled the bench from beside Amara, scaring her. Amara palmed her forehead. She shot a glare at the intruders. "You do this every morning now," Amara stated, exasperated, elbowing both of them. "Try something new for once."

"Constructive criticism," Fred paused. "This why we need you."

Amara gave him a wink.

"So, what's on your agenda today?" Amara flicked George's nose who giggled.

Fred rolled his eyes at their...weird antics. When he started hanging out with Amara, he noticed them being friendly. On occasion, it became too friendly. It made Fred want to retreat away. It felt like Amara and George were friends for a long time and Fred just joined their little club.

"We're sneaking out of Hogwarts..." George said in a low whisper.

Amara's eyes widened, confounded. "How?"

"Why don't we show you?" Fred raised an eyebrow.

"But she has classes," protested George.

"Wait, I want to see!" Amara exclaimed.

Amara followed the twins to the third floor. Then, an array of corridors. Left. Right. Left again. And again. They stopped at a dusty corridor. Where at the end stood a statue of a one-eyed witch, with a humped back. The statue looked at Amara, eye downcast.

"Wow," Amara rushed ahead of the twins to survey it. She ran her fingers on the detailed carving. The witch's face poised in a frown. She held a long wand. George tapped the statue. "Dissendium."

The hump opened.

"Are we supposed to jump in?" Amara asked peering down.

"It'll be fine. Look," Fred led the way, hoisting himself up and disappearing into the hump.

Amara inhaled sharply before she lifted herself up to the hump. She could not tell where Fred had gone. All she could see was darkness. She glanced at George, uncertain and terrorized. What if she broke her legs. He gave her a thumbs up. "It's not scary," He assured.

Amara took the jump. A relieved breath escaped her, as she proceeded down a stone slide. Air whistled in her ears. Her skirt heaved upwards during the ride. When she reached the bottom, her fingers fumbled to pull it down. Fred chuckled.

"Where's Geo—there he is."

As Fred said that, George's whooping echoed.

George fell on his posterior as the slide ended. He groaned at the impact of hitting the hard floor. He got to his feet, staggering to the side. With a grimace, he rubbed the hurt area. "That bruised," George complained as Fred and Amara suppressed their laughter.