19 | no rest for the wicked

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     Samira's hands found no rest, drumming onto the table relentlessly, while minutes refused to pass. Though she tried her best to follow Moody's class, her eyes flickered towards the clock every ten seconds, just to build up her frustration, as time seemed to have slowed to the speed of Professor Binns' voice.

     "You're making me nervous, Diggory", George next to her chuckled, and she slightly flinched by the touch of his fingers brushing her hand, before they intertwined with her's, his thumb drawing small circles on the back of her hand. "See, there's nothing they can throw at you you aren't able to handle."

     "Sorry", Sam muttered, her free hand still drumming onto the wooden surface. "I am awfully impatient, you know? This waiting is driving me mad."

     As Moody dismissed the class what felt like two eternities later, Samira didn't feel any more satisfied or relieved; still there was dinner to pass by, before she would finally come to know what was awaiting her in the third task. With a sigh, she grabbed her bag, while her left hand was still in George's, as Moody's voice stopped her one step before they could exit his classroom.

     "Miss Diggory, a word please."

     Telling George he doesn't need to wait for her, Samira turned around and walked back to Moody's desk.

     "You seem distracted a lot lately, Miss Diggory", he said, both of his eyes fixating her.

     "I'm sorry, sir, I know I should have followed your lesson more properly, but—"

     "I am not talking about my class, I know you're a natural", he replied with one of those creepy laughter she already knew from him. "I fear that you could forget about the importance of the tournament. Mr. Weasley, as far as I know, has a foible for chaos."

     She cocked an eyebrow. This was clearly not Moody's business. "George is not distracting me", Samira replied in a peeved tone. "There's not much to be distracted from until tonight, when the third task will be announced."

     "Didn't intend to cross a line", Moody smirked, raising his hands in defense. "Hogwarts is counting on you and Potter, but I guess that's something Weasley has already told you about. The bets are set on you, girl." While Samira thought it couldn't get creepier than Moody's smile, she noticed his normal eye winking at her, and a shudder ran down her spine. "The school is expecting you to do your best."

     "I don't intend to give them less", she retorted. "If you excuse me now, I want to go to dinner as early as I could, so I won't miss the announcement of the task."

     Maybe it was Samira's tensed mind playing tricks on her, but she could have sworn that Moody had turned significantly more weird than he used to be. Too often she caught him lingering around near her, always both eyes on her, and goosebumps ran up her skin, leaving her so damn uncomfortable.

     "What did ol' Moody want from you?"

     Samira jumped three feet into the air, her hand clasped over her chest, as she turned around to George, who obviously had chosen to wait for her against her advice.

     "Goodness, George, do you want to murder me?", she gasped, feeling her heart hammering underneath her hand. "He wanted to remind me that I have to fight I am a Triwizard champion, not a hormonal teenager", Samira then snorted. "But nevermind, he's a bit ... too fatherly towards me lately. Let's go to the lake or something? I still have time to waste until they announce the third task."

     "I have a better idea", George grinned and took her hand, that still lay on her chest. His touch caused shivers to overrun her body, and she grinned, as she still felt the good old wave of giddiness overwhelm her. "Of course we could pass time by throwing rocks into the lake, but —" he leaned down and kissed her nose — "I promise I can help time to rush by in high speed."

     His lips found hers, then caressed her jawline, wandering down her neck, and still Samira had her difficulties to believe that this was not only a dream; it really were George Weasley's hands on her hips and his scent of gunpowder in her nose.

     Suddenly his hips found her waist and he lifted her off the ground, his lips not once leaving her skin as he did so, before he placed her on a windowsill, grinning up at her.

     "What now, Weasley?", she mocked with a grin, biting her bottom lip as her eyes sunk deeply into his, she didn't even notice the silhouette behind George that came down the corridor. "You want to snog here in an empty corridor and call it a better waste of time?"

     "Do you prefer to throw pebbles into the Black Lake or what?", he snorted, placing a kiss on her collarbone. "And no, I don't just want to snog you in an empty corridor. I thought we could —"

     There appeared a hand on George's shoulder that pulled him back, and Samira almost toppled over backwards out of the window. She caught a hold on the sill, steadying herself, before she eyed George being faced with Mad-Eye Moody, who looked everything but amused.

     "Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley", the teacher growled in a dangerously low voice. "Miss Diggory will need to prepare for tournament, you better bring her to the Great Hall for dinner."

     "But sir—"

     "Miss Diggory, I thought you knew about the importance and duties that come along with being choses as a Triwizard champion", Moody growled, and his magical eye flickered over to her, while his normal eye didn't even blink as it was fixated still on George. "I prefer to not have to remind you of that again. There's enough time for you to do whatever you and Mr. Weasley were up to, when you have gotten safely through the last task."

     He didn't wait for a reply; letting go of George, he walked away, every of his steps were accompanied by a clonk, as his peg leg met the stone floor. Samira watched him leave, slowly sinking down from the window sill, walking towards George, who was also watching Moody leave with a grimace on his face.

     The clonk was still heard, when Moody bowed around the corner at the end of the hallway, still as he climbed down the stairs that lay behind.

     Still staring at the point where Moody had left, Samira muttered, "George ... Why didn't we hear him coming?"

     As George turned to look down at Samira, she tore her eyes from the corridor and looked up at him. With an eyebrow cocked and his forehead wrinkled, he announced, "I have no bloody idea."

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