Twenty-Seven.

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I had a lot more homework this year than I did last year, which I thought was nearly impossible. September flew by, and I did a lot of thinking about mine and George’s relationship, and I figured out that I, sadly, wasn’t in love with him like I thought I was. I had tricked my mind into it because of everyone else around me telling me to. I knew George was going to be nice to me, and he wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with me in public in front of people, and I liked George’s wacky personality because we had always gotten along, but I didn’t love him, not in the way that I should be by now.
   
I shared this information with Jude one night in the library, who was very saddened to hear it. “But you’re so happy with George.” She whined, thinking it wasn’t fair.
   
“I know, but I’m not in love with him,” I told her. “I thought I was, but I was wrong. I have to break up with him.”
   
“How do you know you won’t eventually fall for him?” Asks Jude, and in fact, she was right. I could fall for George if I stayed with him, but it wouldn’t be right of me to do that to him.
   
“We’ve been together for almost 10 months,” I remind her, “If I was going to fall for him, I would have done it by now, and I’m not going to stay with him just to see if there’s possibility that I might one day when I don’t even know if that day will come. I won’t lead him on like that anymore now that I know. I have to be honest with him. I have to tell him the truth. I owe him that much.”
   
Jude sighs, she was certainly not excited to hear this news, but she knew I wasn’t going to budge. “Okay, so how are you going to do it? Through a letter? Or are you going to wait for Christmas when you see him again?”
   
“No, I can’t wait until Christmas, it has to be done before we hit our one year anniversary,” I say, sighing as well. “I also don’t want to do it by letter, either, but I don’t know when I will be able to see him in person again before Christmas.”
   
Then Jude says something that I didn’t even think of. “He passed his Apparition test, right?”
   
“Yes, but you can’t Apparate in or out of Hogwarts,” I remind her.
   
“Yes, I know,” she says, “but he can go to Hogsmeade, and the first Hogsmeade weekend is coming up in just two weeks now. You have plenty of time to send him a letter and ask him to come see you there.”
   
“Oh,” I say, taken aback by this, “You’re right. That way I can do it in person and before Christmas. That’s genius, Jude. Thank you so much!” I stand up, closing my book, and announce, “I’m going to write to him right now!” And that’s what I did. I ran to Hufflepuff Basement and wrote to George for what was probably going to be the last time as his girlfriend. I just told him that I wanted to see him and asked him to come to Hogsmeade.
   
I had to force the tears to stop coming as I finished writing this letter. I was very careful not to say the words, “I Love You” while writing. It was about two days later when I got his reply at breakfast from Puddles.
    
His letter made me feel so bad, because he had no clue what my true intentions were for inviting him to Hogsmeade, but I guess that's kind of the point of the letter. I knew he wouldn’t come if I told him, “I want to break up with you but I want to do it in person so take a day off work and let me break your heart” now, would he? No, I don’t reckon he would have agreed to it then.
   
When that day came, it was cold and rainy. I was surprised to see Zonko’s joke shop was boarded up, and the only worthwhile shop was Honeydukes. So my friends and I stayed there for a good moment until we decided to head to The Three Broomsticks. I was half expecting George to be waiting for me outside, but he wasn’t. When we entered the loud, warm pub, we saw him sitting at a table with Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny talking amongst themselves. Jude gripped my shoulder, brought her mouth to my ear, and said, “Good luck, girl,” loud enough so only I could hear her say it.
   
I put on my most believable fake smile and I walk over to the table. George sees me as I approach and the biggest smile takes over his face. Ugh, I swear by Merlin’s beard this break up was going to be so hard for me to do. I almost didn’t want to do it, but I knew that I had to.
   
“There’s my girl!” George exclaims standing up out of his seat to hug me, I turn my head quickly so he can’t kiss me on the lips. Which was the first of many hard things I am going to have to do today. “I already ordered you a butterbeer, here,” he says pushing the full glass towards me.
   
“Oh, thanks,” I say looking down at the light wheat colored liquid.
   
“How come you didn’t tell me you invited George this weekend?” Ron asks, playfully hitting me on the shoulder.
   
I tell him the most believable lie. “I’ve been so busy with homework I guess it never came up.”
   
“Well, you’re right there,” says Hermione, “I thought last year was bad, and I’ve dropped three subjects!”
   
“Price you pay for being a N.E.W.T. student,” says George as he places an arm around my chair. “That’s why Fred and I never fussed about it.”
   
“We can’t all drop out and still be successful,” sneers Hermione.
   
“Not for the jobs you all want to have,” agrees George. “Speaking of that,” he says and his brown eyes are on me, “Have you given any thought to what I said while you were staying with Fred and I?”

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