Wearing the necklace George had given her for her birthday, Waker rose to depart from the Ravenclaw table for perhaps one of the last times. Standing in place, she gazed up at the Enchanted Ceiling, as if it might give her some omen of what was to come. So often she had studied it simply to know the day’s weather (because if there was one thing Wizarding news had in common with Muggle news-- and there many-- it was weather predictions and their usefulness.) Her fingers brushed the necklace. She’d worn it a handful of times since breakup (and it had taken her a while to remove it, to realize that it wasn’t fair to wear it in front of him when they were no longer together), but more often than out, out of respect, she had kept it in her pocket as a source of comfort, or as a bookmark she could stare at while studying. Now she wore it for everyone to see: she wanted to be his again, and she did mind who knew it,  least of all George.

In fact, that was the point, wasn’t it? Besides being a very lovely necklace, it meant something. It spoke her intentions before she could.

She peeled her eyes away from the ceiling, the sunshine she could almost feel, the lazy, occasional cloud. Moving through the hall, she paused only once more, to take a breath and straighten her back (and her nerves) in the threshold. Stepping from the Great Hall into the Entrance Hall, she spotted him there where she’d asked to have a quick word after breakfast-- or perhaps it was before breakfast for many Hogwarts students, even on the last day before the trains promised to take them home for the summer (or into the adult world.) Waker was an early riser, and despite the victory of having completed nearly every exam, she had woken with ease and slightly jumpy, girlish nerves.

“Hi,” she greeted, locking eyes with him, her cheeks bunching in a decidedly Waker-ish smile, the sort she used when she was being half-reserved, half-confessing. She was out of her element, but also ready to be candid. Her eyes fluttered down and back up, and grew a bit wider. Her mouth settled somewhere between pleasant and revelatory. Maybe a touch tentative.

“I know this isn’t the dungeons, but...” She caught his eye again, her smile becoming a little more mischievous, albeit bashful. It was harder to hide color in her cheeks here, so she tried doubly to control it. She reached for his hand. “I miss you. Not just...” She looked to her right and then her left, and resisted the urge-- with the tiniest of twitches-- to look over her shoulder. “In that way.” Her gaze attempted to convey meaning. “But of course in that way, too,” she added quickly. “It’s good. Well, amazing, really.” She might as well be honest, since that’s what she was going for. “But I miss being with you, just being us. George and Waker.” Mr. and Mrs. Trophy. She tilted her head a little, her lips moving together ponderously. “I don’t want to leave Hogwarts without that part of me.”


One might argue that she had no right to ask, but she was going to anyway. She looked at him purposefully, much of the coyness seeming to evaporate. “Can we try it again? Can I be yours?” Her hand still holding his, she gave it a little swing, and smiled with the sort of sincere-but-playful knowingness they’d always shared while alone. “You’re my Five Year Plan.”

There were few times that George felt ready for an exam. His interest in the gillyweed he had grown had increased his desire to get into Herbology. It was interesting in a way that he hadn’t considered it before. For the moment, he felt confident about the looming exams. They would be his last ones!

Still, some small part of him worried. It nagged at him in the back of his head as he waited for Waker to show up. Maybe he could fit in a stack of pancakes... the crunchy bacon he munched on was only going to hold him off for so long. And he needed to keep up his strength for exams, didn’t he?

Yawning behind his hand, George saw her heading towards him. Grinning after his hand fell away, he rubbed at his eyes a little. “G’morning.” Eyebrows rose--no, it was not the dungeons. Smirking at that, he easily settled into her hand, rubbing his thumb against her skin. She certainly knew how to make him more alert. And, with the next few words out of her mouth, she knew how to make his stomach flip and feel not so sure of itself.

George licked his lips and grinned. It had been a rather exploring few weeks... “Right...” He was willing to accept it was amazing.

There went the butterflies in his stomach again. Taking in a slow breath, his eyes glanced over her face and down to her lips. George and Waker. Now it was his turn to glance around, albeit not as obviously as Waker, and his eyes darted to one side of her and then to the other. He stood up straighter and finally settled on her gaze.

And then she asked it. She poised the question, and every sarcastic or witty response seemed to filter out of him. George looked at her, licked his lips, and considered how to respond best. He didn’t need to look so eager, did he?

He felt an ache in his chest he had tried not to feel for a while. Looking down at her hand, watching it swing back and forth, he felt his lips tug ever so slightly into a smirk. “You and your planning...” His free hand reached out and held her waist before pulling her in against him. Settling on her eyes, George finally nodded, unsure of what else he could really say.

And then he thought of it. His grin widened as he returned her mischievous look. “Well, maybe on one condition...” Tugging her with him back into the Great Hall, George decided to find out how interested in Spain she was, and how soon she would have to start at the Ministry. He felt confident about his exams anyway, and wanted some pancakes. And maybe a little bit of a private party to celebrate the good news.