GLORY // book one

- PART 16 -

THEO

~

MY HANDS DUG INTO George's shoulders, pulling myself as close as possible. Fear rushed through me and I fought the urge to just turn back. Forcing my gaze to George's, brown eyes met grey.

"You ready, love?"

For once, I didn't mind the nickname.

"I still can't believe I'm doing this," I sighed, voice shaking slightly. "I'm going to fucking drown and then it'll just be Myrtle and me—"

"I won't let you drown—"

"Ha! As though you're going to rescue me while I'm dying a horrible—"

"Theodosia."

I stopped. George Weasley never called me by my name. Never. It was always some dumb pet name, since our First Year. But now, he wasn't— he wasn't . . . oh, sweet Jesus, he's actually serious.

I let out a long sigh, holding on more tightly. "Fine."

The next thing I knew, we were underwater.

The water stung my eyes at first, and everything was blurry— seeing as my glasses were abandoned on the side of the pool, along with George's shirt and shorts. I opted to keep on my shirt, though my shorts were left after I confirmed the shirt I wore was long enough.

It was the weirdest feeling to be underwater. Like I was floating or something. And everything was so . . . cool. Foggy and massive, the pool-like bath seemed to be another dimension. I looked away from the weirdness to the redhaired teen I was holding on to like a lifesaver.

Heat creeping up my cheeks, I hesitantly loosened my grip, looking around as singing filled the pool. The egg— it was doing something.

'Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour-long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour – the prospect's black

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.'

My lungs burned by the end of the rendition and George pushed us up towards the air. Wet hair fell in my face as we broke the surface, golden tiles glimmering around us. I gripped the side of the bath, letting George go and moving back a good two feet. This had already been way too weird for me.

"So . . . " George trailed off, looking down towards the egg.

I thought over the words, already starting to forget. "I guess the next task will take an hour— or less than an hour?"

"Cannot sing above the ground. I wonder what that's about?"

The Weasley shook his head, lifting himself out of the pool with ease. I tried to mimic what he had done— push up with my hands —but just slipped, almost going under. George held out a hand, which I begrudgingly took after the third failed attempt. There were no towels in sight, so I stood in my wet shirt, wringing water from myself. I wondered if I could shake myself dry, like in those muggle cartoons? Not that I would try it with a Weasley next to me.

__

The warmth of the water had quickly faded, leaving me with shaking and cursing.

"You're freezing, love," George commented, watching me shiver. We had been hiding out from Filch for a good half hour, and I had yet to dry off, though my shorts were now also wet.

"Nu-uh," I denied, squeezing more water from my hair.

"Uh-huh,"

"No—"

"Yes—"

"George!"

"Eg-ro-eg!"

"What?"

George shrugged. "Opposite of George is Egg-row-egg."

"Oh, Merlin." I sighed, rolling my eyes at him. "It doesn't matter. Filch is probably gone, I'll just rush back to my room—"

"All the way in the Dungeons? With bare feet?" George rolled his eyes, chest still lacking a shirt. It was very . . . annoying. That's all George is; an annoyance.

"Yeah, so?" I responded cleverly.

"That's just— you're are just so smart, love. Really. You'll get a cold or— or some weird disease from walking around barefoot!"

"What's your plan then, Mr. I'm-so-clever?"

"Here—" His shirt was thrust towards me.

I scoffed, shaking my head, "I'm not— I . . . I have my own clothes, Weasley. I don't—"

"It's warm, you're cold, and we both know you love seeing me shirtless."

I gaped at him, a huff escaping me. "I do not—"

"Just put on the shirt, and then I'll stop."

I stared at the material for a moment, then glanced up at those awful brown eyes. "Fine,"

I took the shirt, turning around and ripping off the soaked one I currently wore, pulling on the dry replacement as quick as I could. When I turned around, George was facing the pool, face as red as mine surely was. I cleared my throat, prompting him to turn around, silent for once.

"Well, I'll be— uh . . . "

I nodded, eyes wide. "Yeah, er, bye!"

I left the room first, egg in hands and face burning. Abruptly, I was no longer cold.

__

When I woke up the next day, I gave Cedric the egg, explained my newfound realization, and ran from the Great Hall to avoid a certain Weasley boy. Ron, I was totally avoiding Ronald Weasley. Not his somehow not-so-annoying-anymore older brother. After all, I was dating Percy, according to the Prophet.

My dorm was filled with my roommates, the bothers, so I decided it would be safest to camp out in the Library all day. No Weasley would ever step foot in a library willingly, unless their first name was Perseus.

I was not a fan of reading— I got distracted easily and there were always just so many words. But, there was an entire area dedicated to animals, so I figured it wouldn't be the worst way to spend a day.

Of course, I should've remembered that it was almost Christmas, meaning almost time for the ball. And that I was going.

(A/N:

This chapter is around 1100 words and I hope you all have a wonderful night, day, or afternoon, depending on when you're reading.

PS; Since I'm in Act Two of this book, I thought I'd just remind everyone I do NOT own Harry Potter, only my OC(s). I wish I was JK, but alas, I am not.)