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“That’s my knee!”

“I know it is”

“Get your hands off me or I swear”

“George, behave.”

“Yeah George behave, listen to the prefect.”

The hand that was on your knee vanished, leaving you both relived and disappointed. The owner of the hand was George Weasley, fellow Gryffindor and utter pain in the arse. One of the many pranks the Weasley twins had developed had backfired, leaving you all in the Gryffindor common room with no fire and no light source, whilst you were none the wiser about what the spell should have actually achieved.

“Well I hope you know how to fix it or McGonagall is going to flip, and I will not hesitate to blame you two only” Exclaimed an exasperated Hermione who then started to make her way to the girl’s dormitory, her journey punctuated with the tapping of the furniture and the occasional ‘ouch’ as she walked into the many chairs that cluttered the room.

You felt a hand gently squeeze your elbow as a pair of lips brushed your ear followed by a low whisper.

“Trust me”

The hand that had held your elbow then took your hand and pulled you to your feet, once standing you were expertly guided out of the common room, somehow missing all the furniture, and past the portrait of the Fat Lady who was gently snoring. You knew it was George, due to his jumper, but he said nothing as he led you through the deserted corridors and outside. The moonlight was beautiful and illuminated the grounds with its pale rays whilst the stars stood out so clearly allowing you to note some of the constellations. George continued to lead you around the grounds whilst you marvelled in the almost serene state of the school grounds as everyone else slept. You came to stop by the lake, which was glittering with moonlight.

“It’s beautiful” the words slipped from your mouth without any thought.

“Just like you”

A smile spread across your face as you walked into your lover’s embrace, allowing him to fold his arms around you as you did the same. His lips caressed the top of your head as you inhaled the faint smell of gunpowder and other unidentifiable smells that he seemed to constantly radiate. Your relationship with George was a private one, so private that no one else knew. Both of you had decided to keep it under wraps until you felt solid enough as a couple to endure the teasing that would undoubtedly follow and then with the arrival of Umbridge George was loathed to tell anyone in case she found out and punished you for your association to the Weasley twins.

This forced the pair of you to meet secretly and to enjoy the stolen moments when you could. The brushing of hands in the library meant something more as it could be the only touch you could manage for days.

Part of you wondered if your relationship would make it, being so shrouded in secrecy from the beginning, that if it did become public knowledge it could crumble away.

“It’s not always going to be like this you know. Mum adores you and the rest of the family thinks you’re ok.” George said as he rested his head atop yours, his voice conveying his laugh at his own wit. “And it may come sooner than you think.”