| Inked | (George Weasley)

Chapter Thirteen

Fred skidded to a halt a few halls over, not even close to being out of breath from the sprint he just took his twin and Ollie on. George quirked a brow at his brother, but quickly realized where they were going.

Catching her breath, Olive threw her hands on her knees, grumbling to herself about needing to get out more and run. She was never the greatest at sports- which is why she only stuck to writing.

"Where- where the bloody hell are we? I'm going-" Ollie gasped, turned on her heel to leave. She had enough of the twins' antics tonight, and just wanted to head to supper. Olive hadn't eaten all day, and really wanted a mug of cocoa and a sandwich before she showered and turned in for the night.

"No, you're not." George grabbed Ollie by the hand, pulling her back towards him and Fred.

They both took Ollie's hands, George on the left, Fred on the right, dragging her down the hall towards their destination.

"You said you were going to walk me back to the common room." Ollie groaned, "I don't want to run into people-"

"Don't worry, Ollie," George smirked, "We'll be going to the common room. It's still supper, so you won't have to worry about social interaction-"

"Which you seem to be so bothered about. We're making a quick stop first." Fred added.

They turned the corner, leading to the familiar fruit portrait where Ollie had been just hours previously. She didn't want to go inside, mainly due to the fact that she didn't want Fred and George to question why Olive had gotten fifteen PB&J sandwiches and a few bottles of pumpkin juice.

"Why the kitchens?" Ollie questioned them, pulling her hands out of the warm grasps of Fred and George. She folded her arms, quirking a brow.

"You need something to warm up." George offered, "Courtesy of my dear brother and I."

"I'll stay out here." Olive said, tucking her damp hair behind her ears.

George shared a look with Fred, before nodding quickly. He walked over to where Ollie was standing, and gave her his usual smirk. He liked Ollie- he found her interesting. Under all that shyness and quiet behavior was a really witty and sarcastic girl.

"Fred- shall you go in and pick us up some thing?" He asked in a posh accent, bowing to his twin.

Fred pretended to twist an invisible mustache, bowing back at George.

"Yes, kind sir, I shall."

With that, he tickled the pear, and headed inside the kitchens.

"Why are you doing this?" Olive asked George, a skeptical look on her face as she glanced up at him.

"Doing what?" George asked, "Getting soup?"

"No," Ollie sighed, "One minute you're trying to prank me and such, the other you're trying to escort me to my common room and be all nice."

"Are you complaining?"

"Yes. I don't trust you."

George scratched the back of his head, "Well that was straightforward. You're usually shy with these things."

"You didn't answer my question." Ollie stated, taking a seat against the opposite wall. She folded her arms, leaning her head back against the cool stone wall.

Glancing down at her, George tried to think of a funny response, but then realized that Ollie was being completely serious.

"Well, you're a cool person, and we thought we could use your help-"

"But why my help. Out of all of the smart people, the ones who aren't socially awkward, or get extreme anxiety... You wanted me to help. I don't understand." Ollie ranted. She wasn't sad or distressed, but just mad and confused.

Picking at a loose string in his jumper, George thought quickly. He realized how vulnerable Ollie actually was, as much as she hated letting on. She didn't like attention- he knew that...

But why had he and Fred asked her to help them?

He remained silent for a few moments, which caused Ollie to get a bit more annoyed.

"You don't even know why you're bothering me! Listen, George, I know you and Fred have good intentions or whatever, but maybe you should just listen to this cat's signs and stop messing around. Just... I'm not comfortable being pestered all the time, okay? I'm not the girl for the job to help you with this." Olive admitted with the slump of her shoulders.

"You have Hermione to help you- Merlin, she's smarter than I am. Just... I can't help you, I'm not the smart person you and Fred thought I was or whatever when I dodged your prank."

She got up, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked down the hall away from George and the kitchens.

"Ollie-"

"Thanks for walking me inside... I'm going to go."

Disappearing around the corner, Ollie sighed, letting out a small shiver as she walked in the direction of the common room. Perhaps she'll just steal some of Nat's sweets she keeps in the trunk under her bed, or even just wait until breakfast the following morning.

She hated telling George off, as much as she dislikes him and Fred. But she was getting more and more anxious when they continued to pester her all the time. She's not good in those types of situations.

Fred exited the kitchens with two thermoses containing some soup and one full of butter beer. He saw George leaning against the opposite wall, looking a bit shocked and highly confused.

"Where's Ollie, mate?" Fred asked, handing his brother the thermos of hot soup. George held the warm container in between his hands, letting out a long sigh.

"She left." He said simply.

"Why? I thought she liked soup!"