"Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering."― Nicole Krauss, "The History of Love"
| George Weasley |
| Prisoner of Azkaban -Deathly Hallows part 2 |
| Sequel to 'S...
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THE FOLLOWING MORNING, HAZEL WAS awoken by Ginny. The two girls shared a room the night before with Hermione; who was clearly up and awake already.
Hazel's eyes were droopy as she brushed her teeth, then dressed in Muggle clothes; a short sleeved band t-shirt, with a hoodie on top. A pair of skinny jeans and some converse. She rubbed the sleep out of her as she descended down the stairs. The sudden creaks in the floorboards caused her to jump up, waking herself up even more. The only light illuminating the cosy home was from the candles Mrs. Weasley lit up, as well as the small chandelier that was above the kitchen table.
"Why did we have to get up so early?" Ginny questioned as she stepped down the stairs merely seconds after Hazel.
"We've got a bit of a walk," Mr. Weasley explained.
Hazel glanced up at him and noticed his Muggle clothing as well as the large bag on his back. He was the only person that looked remotely awake.
"Walk?" Harry asked, overhearing the conversation, "Are we walking to the World Cup?"
Mr. Weasley shook his head, "Oh, no, no. That's miles away. We only need to walk to the Portkey."
Harry looked confused, but before he could even ask about a Portkey, Mrs. Weasley shouted sharply, "George!"
"What?" George asked, trying to put on an innocent face as he turned to look at his mum.
"What's in your pockets?" Mrs. Weasley asked, she crossed her arms over her chest as she stared George down.
"Nothing!" George exclaimed, pretended to be insulted that she thought he was up to something.
"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs. Weasley said, her voice stern. Hazel watched as the woman grabbed hold of her wand and pointed it at her George's pockets, "Accio."
Hazel's hands instinctively went in her hoodie as her chocolate coloured eyes watched different coloured sweets flying right out of his pockets. He tried to grab hold of them as they floated in the air, but missed as they landed on Mrs. Weasley's outstretched palm.
"We told you to destroy these," She said furiously, her eyes shifting from George to Fred, "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you."
Neither Fred or George moved. They certainly didn't empty out their pockets. Hazel frowned when she heard Mrs. Weasley say the spell once again. Sweets began to fly out of the twins' pockets, some of them even flew out of the up-turns of Fred's jeans and lining of George's jacket.
