| Inked | (George Weasley)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Olive Lark just stared at George, her brows tightly knit together as her cobalt blue eyes met his.

"Well?" George rested his chin in the palm of his hands, "I mean, obviously you aren't out here at this time of night for the same reasons Fred and I are."

With a nervous sigh, Olive tucked a few of her raven colored curls behind an ear. Obviously she wasn't out this late to prank, but the thought of it was an amusing one.

"Ollie, as much as I would like to leave this closet now that I'm pretty sure Filch is off my tail... I won't let you leave until you tell me."

The Ravenclaw looked up at George, who seemed pretty adamant on keeping her there. Olive let out a sigh, grabbing her notebook to show the Gryffindor.

"I was writing." She said quietly, "In the Astronomy Tower."

"How did you get here?"

"I was heading down the corridor and heard footsteps. I assumed it was Filch."

"Well... it was only me, but... Filch followed afterwards." George answered, looking cautiously in the direction of the door, "Fred probably got away somewhere."

Olive nodded, shifting uncomfortably in the chilly corner of the closet. As much as it seemed like a good hiding spot at first, her neck and back were starting to cramp up and the stone wall was freezing to the touch. Soon enough, Ollie was freezing herself.

"I have a question for you, Ollie."

"What?"

"Why are you avoiding everyone? At least that's what it seems like."

Quirking her brow, Olive looked up at the ginger, who was staring back at her with a curious expression. Heaving a sigh, the raven-haired girl shifted in her place once more.

"I'm not." She said quietly, no longer maintaining eye-contact with George, "It just seems that way."

George, who was definitely not born yesterday, let out a tiny scoff, "Then what do you call it?"

The Ravenclaw remained silent.

"You're avoiding everyone then."

"I don't mean to." Ollie pipped quietly, her cheeks turning a shade pink. She didn't realize that her friends were actually noticing her trying to avoid them- she just didn't know what to do.

She took a deep breath, clutching the journal tightly to her chest, "After what happened... I just didn't know what any of you might think of me... about what Ingrid said... if she was right." she shuddered.

George was silent for a moment, which caused the girl to glance up at him- wanting him to say something before she psyched herself out. He was never one to usually think too much when coming up with an answer- ideas and words just flowed out of him like word vomit.

And the longer George stayed quiet, the more Olive believed she was those things Ingrid had called her. That she deserved it.

Olive's gaze dropped back down to her shoes, clutching her notebook tightly until her knuckles were white and her nails dug into the palms of her hands. Was George trying to figure out a way to tell her that Ingrid was right? That Olive was a mute freak... that she deserved to be picked on... that she had no friends.

"You think she's right? Ingrid, I mean." George asked the Ravenclaw girl. Olive perked her head up and nodded slowly, ashamed that she thought so.

"Olive, that's where you're wrong. Yes, you are shy- but that doesn't make you a mute freak. Ingrid's got what Fred and I like to call a dingus brain- she can't exactly process things around her that aren't about herself." George said, "That being said, you shouldn't listen to what she has to say to you, because she only says it to make her feel better about herself."