Falling For

It was summer by the time I ended up getting everything together. I was packing everything I owned into a row of boxes that borderline filled my bedroom. My mother was leaning against the doorframe, sniveling something along the lines of ‘They grow up so fast’ while I smiled coyly at her from underneath my longing fringe.

“Do you need help with any of this?” She asked me suddenly, chewing on her fingers like a child without luck.

“I’m fine.” I told her, pushing the hair back off my sweaty forehead. Her face softened and her lips pursed and she turned and left, leaving me to roll my eyes and wipe my brow with the back of my pale hand. It was sweltering in the little outskirts of Yorkshire, my mother’s inability to let me go a little unnerving. I was finally getting out of my childhood home, something bittersweet but I suppose I really thought I was ready to become a ‘real’ adult.

I knew I would be fine, as George would be helping me apparate my stuff into his little bedroom. He was running late, though I wasn’t really mad because he had told me he needed to do something secret with the Order, or so he said. Having not rejoined the organization, I was just a secret-keeper in a casual way, not exactly bonded by magic but I knew that Mad-Eye Moody would have strangled with his bare hands if I had said anything anyway.

A few minutes later, George appeared in the corner of the room with a loud ‘CRACK’, landing in a few boxes with his long, lanky legs hanging over the edge.

“Hello sweetheart.” He mumbled from his forced-upon fetal position. “Care to help me out?” His head popped over the side and my lips pursed in humour.

“Maybe.” I grinned, stuffing a few more things into the last box before snorting at him. He sat there, staring at me unhappily as he tried to fling himself out. “That’s embarrassing.” I bit my lip and gave him a quick quirk of the brow to let him know I was kidding. He huffed.

“Be nice to me for once Mignon and I won’t slip any canary cream into tonight’s dinner.” He threatened before grinning, letting me grab his hand to help hoist him out. “All packed then?” He asked before giving me a quick kiss on the lips. I brightened.

“All done. Mum’s moping in the kitchen right now. I think I should bake her a cake or something.”

“‘Congratulations, your baby girl is leaving you forever!’” He spread out his hands like a banner. “Really something to be happy about, Min.” He added sarcastically. I slapped him on the arm.

“Well she should think of it this way; I have a job and I am moving out, she doesn’t have to bother with anything or anyone but herself. I’d be excited.” I pointed out and he shrugged.

“Women are crazy, Mignon, I thought you of all people would know that.” He grinned at me. “Oh, and we’re not having any fish for dinner tonight, okay?”

I frowned and kicked a box his way, resenting his reference to the other night where I had one of those womanly melt-downs that consisted of ‘BUT I DON’T WANT FISH FOR DINNER’ followed by manic sobs and door slams. The twins thought it was hilarious, and Fred’s new girlfriend Mona just blinked reservedly at me for the rest of the night. Ah, the perks of being one of those lucky one’s with the really un-subtle hormone issues.

“Alright then, Mr Hilarious, go grab a few boxes and we’ll move all my junk into that pit you call a bedroom.”

“Ouch!” He clutched his heart and I shoved past him, gaining a hug from behind and a kiss on the shell of my ear. “I love you, Min.” He sing-songed, giving me goose pimples before toddling off to grab one of the boxes. He sat on my empty bed, gave me a smile and was gone, leaving me to rub my arms and stare blankly the spot he had once occupied.




“But I don’t want CHICKEN for DINNER.” Fred shrieked as soon as he saw me hovering over the stove. George spat out his pumpkin juice in laughter and I burnt bright red, Fred’s new girlfriend Mona giggling from the doorway.

Fred had his arm slung over her shoulder, leading her to his bedroom. He winked at me and I scowled right back, resisting the urge to give him the finger or something more vulgar and immature. George’s sputtering stopped me, as some rage-releasing endorphin kicked in and I smacked him on the thigh. He sputtered some more and hobbled off to the lounge room to turn the radio on.

“Oh! With all the business of my day I have found out some secret news!” He returned to my side, wrapping his arm around my waist with a smile on his face. I looked up at him with a small grin on my face.

“Oh yeah? Do tell, gossip queen.” I teased and he poked my side, making me squeak.

“Guess who’s getting married? Other than us.” He added, letting me go to lean on the counter.

“We have competition now?” I whined sardonically and he snorted, looking down at the orange stain on his nice green shirt. “Come on, tell me.”

“My brother Bill and guess who!”

“I don’t know anyone named ‘Guess Who’.” I deadpanned him and he glowered, groaning at how lame I was being. I smirked, shrugging. “Okay, um, Petra.”

“Well that would be weird.” He recoiled, almost disgusted.

“You said guess!” I threw my arms up, stretching my tiny body against his. He grabbed me and we circulated in the spot for a while before I moaned in angst. “Just tell me already!”

“Fleur Delacour.” He nodded at me and I blanked for a moment.

“The useless one?” I squinted suddenly and he nodded again. “Oh wow, I barely even remember what she looks like.”

“Well if she’s half veela she’s still as wickedly beautiful as ever.” He beamed at me and I evened my eyes jokingly.

“And there’s no doubt that there’ll be pretty French girls everywhere!” I put my hands on my hips and his brows rose. “I’m going to cockblock you so bad.”

He burst out with a laugh and pulled me closer, not minding the burning protein on the bench.

“No need to cockblock, I’ll be bringing my own pretty French girl anyway.” He kissed my forehead and my face softened.

“I’m not French, you daft man.” I mumbled into the juice stain and licked the pumpkin off my lips as I felt his chest vibrate with laughter.

“Who said I was talking about you?” He teased and I squeezed his bicep with my nails jokingly.

“Ouch,” he whined “kidding, kidding! If I really wanted a veela, you wouldn’t be the one with all the boxes in my room.” He pursed his lips before I laughed at him.

“I know, I know. I don’t think you have the heart to bed another.” I smiled up at him and he grinned back down, kissing me gently before nibbling quietly on my lower lip. I mumbled out a groan and ran my fingers through his now cut-short hair and pulled back, smiling softly at him as he stared right back.

“You’re so whipped it’s almost sickening.”

We turned to see Fred in the doorway, scratching his bare chest while rolling his eyes. I nodded at him, biting my lip and creasing my brow to let him know I agreed. He almost giggled as he slid past us to fill two glasses with water, winking at George before slipping back into his tiny bedroom.

I looked up at my soon to be fiancé of sorts and kissed him quickly.

“Want to skip dinner and follow suit?” I asked, watching his face turn quizzical before he extinguished the sizzling dish, quickly picking me up by my thighs and racing me to the bedroom.