It's Better If You Do

Bellamy and George remained in their spots for sometime before George got up to clean his shirt. Bellamy, at this time, had finished her book and was too lazy and tired to get out another book from her messy trunk. She then lay back on her bed, thinking she would get a bit of nap before going back down the stairs and finishing up with dinner. However, George was being much too loud in the bathroom for her to drift off. Every time she was just about to the point where she fell asleep, he would let out a loud curse, probably at a very stubborn stain. Needless say, Bellamy was getting a bit perturbed with it, but didn’t say anything. She was the cause of the stains anyway.

Time passed slowly for the two and it seemed George had finally given up on cleaning his shirt or had gotten it clean enough to his liking, which Bellamy would guess wasn’t very clean at all. He walked back into the room, his fingers raw and red spare the pastel splotches on his fingertips. He sent a particular scathing look to Bellamy as he plopped down on his bed, staring out the windows and into the steadily darkening sky.

The two of them remained silent for a few more minutes before Bellamy stood up, letting out a heavy sigh as she stared at George’s back.

“Well…I’m going to finish up dinner,” she said softly, “It’ll be done in thirty minutes or so.” George didn’t make an inclination to answer or at least nod to her, so she turned and walked out of the flat, closing the door not-so-quietly behind her. George jumped a bit before turning slowly to look at the door. Ryussi, who seemed to have taken up under Fred’s bed, rolled out from his hiding place and gently bumped into George’s shoe. He looked down and gave a heavy sigh before picking up the tiny purple puffball.

“Do you like her, what-ever-your-Frenchie-name is?” He asked the pygmy puffskein, to which he was met with a chirrup in reply as it settled itself happily into his palm. George let out a hum and shook his head a bit.

“Well…at least I know you aren’t mean,” he murmured to Ryussi, to which the purple bit of fluff hummed happily in response.

Bellamy leaned over the cauldron, stirring it a bit. Hopefully, it would be to George’s liking, since he seemed to be quite sour with her. She was the one who got punched in the eye by a telescope. She was the one who had her private documents and keepsakes rifled through. All he had was a bucket of dirty water dumped over his head. Surely, her anger was merited. She paused for a moment as she stared blankly at the wall ahead of her. She had been really mean to George, all because he reminded her of the son of a bitch who ruined her. If anyone deserved her anger, it would be Julian.

Then, she thought, I’ll have to apologize for the mean things I’ve done to George. Glancing down to the ingredients in the pot, it suddenly didn’t seem enough for all the glares and horrible words she had directed at George. An idea quickly struck her and a wide grin crossed her red lips before she pulled out one of the cookbooks George had bought for her. The gold writing along the spine sparkled the one word she knew George couldn’t stay mad at: Desserts.

It only took a half an hour, like Bellamy had said, for dinner to be done, complete with something for her to eat, since she wouldn’t be touching the main dish. Setting the table for two, sitting direct across from each other, she placed a bowl where George was going to be sitting and placed the cauldron at the center of the table. Filling two goblets with a bit of wine left over from the night before, she gave a short sigh before peeking into the window of a small oven she had transfigured from a sheet of paper. It was one of the few transfiguration spells she had been able to master in school. Funnily enough, it was quite useful to her.

She placed a plate of bangers and mash on her plate, since she had a little bit of ingredients left over from the previous night, and placed the plate at her spot on the table. Pulled the delicious smelling baked good out of the oven, she quickly cooled it with a jet of cool air from her wand before icing the top of it liberally. With a smile and a happy nod, she overturned a tall pot over it, so it would be hidden from George when he walked into the kitchen. Glancing over everything once more, she placed the lid snuggly onto the top of the cauldron before making her way to the staircase and to the closed door. She suddenly felt very nervous for some reason, because she knew she’d be furious if George didn’t accept this peace offering of sorts and she would most likely need to leave, which would put her in a sticky spot with Rose.

Bellamy, clearing her throat and gathering her courage, knocked on the door gently and listened in to hear if George were moving around in the room.

“Supper’s ready, George,” she spoke softly through the wood, biting her bottom lip anxiously afterwards.

George was still sitting on his bed, Ryussi propped happily on his shoulder. He had half a mind to just tell her to sod off and then apparate away to one of the many cafes in Diagon Alley. And as he drew in a deep breath of air through his nose, he caught a whiff of an absolutely delectable smell and his stomach gave a loud rumble. Standing, he walked over to the door and pulled it open, seeing Bellamy standing on the top step, looking up at him rather innocently.

“What’ve you made?” He asked as she turned and began to walk down the stairs. Ryussi gave an appreciative hum from George’s shoulder, as if he approved of his traveling toward the delicious smells. Bellamy merely glanced over her shoulder with a wide smile, saying absolutely nothing. George’s brow furrowed as he stepped off the last stair. He looked around the room suspiciously before walking over to the table and taking a seat. Bellamy was already seated and was taking a sip of her wine. George went to pull of the lid but Bellamy quickly slapped his hand away.

They locked eyes for a moment, as if in a silent challenge before Bellamy’s eyes suddenly softened and she grasped the lid of the cauldron and pulled it off in one clean movement. She kept her eyes glued to George though and smiled widely once she saw his look of surprise. He stared down at the soup for a moment before looking at Bellamy.

“You made this for me?” He asked, astounded that a girl who seemed to detest bouillabaisse would take the time out to make it. She merely nodded, continuing to smile.

“Just for you,” she said softly, “you can have as much as you like of it, since I won’t be going anywhere near it.” George grinned widely and ran a hand through his hand as he let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t believe it,” he said, shaking his head a bit. Bellamy’s smile faded a bit and she watched him for a few moments.

“I’m really sorry about dumping that water over your head, George,” she said, bowing her head a bit, feeling incredibly guilty with herself. “You didn’t deserve that…not after how nice you’ve been to me and my sister.” George stared at her earnestly, knowing it probably took a lot to get an apology out of Bellamy. “There are reasons for why I’ve treated you so badly. Stupid reasons that I shouldn’t let bother me anymore, but I do.” He leaned forward a bit, suddenly hanging off of her every word. “You remind me a lot of someone who betrayed my trust in one of the worst ways possible.” She suddenly looked very sad as she lowered her eyes from George’s and set them down on her plate. George stared at her intently. He knew who she was talking about, but he couldn’t say that he knew. So, he did the thing that came naturally to him and he reached across the table, taking one of her hands in his in a comforting manner.

“Well…thank you for explaining things to me,” he said softly, causing her to look up to him with a small smile. “And thank you very much for the bouillabaisse.” He had regained a wily grin, causing Bellamy to abruptly pull her hand away from his and roll her eyes, smiling widely despite herself.