This couldn't be real. Lyra was sure she was dreaming. George twirled her around the dance floor song after song. Pulling her close for the slow ones and dancing goofily for the fast ones in an attempt to make her laugh.
It wasn't until they were both red in the face and out of breath did she finally convince him to take a break.
"I'll go get drinks yeah?" He said between breaths. She smiled her thanks for watching him dreamily as he slinked away. Shaking her head she began to scan the crowd trying to find a familiar face. Her eyes lit up as they fell upon Hermione. She darted for her immediately.
Once she got close though she realized something was very wrong. She stopped frozen as a wave of heartbreak and anger took over her. Hermione pushed past her, tears in her eyes.
Fury filled Lyra. No sign of the wonderful night remained. She did not think of George. She did not think of the ball. She only saw Ron.
Shaking, she grabbed a half-full glass from a nearby table and marched in the direction that Hermione came from. Ron and Harry sat at a table with Viktor standing in front of them. He was holding two drinks, one must have been for Hermione. She noticed how his shoulders slouched and he began to slink away from the table. She quickened her pace. Raising the glass up, her eyes blazing.
An arm suddenly wrapped around her waist and a hand grabbed her wrist. The liquid in the cup sloshed a little spilling onto the floor.
"Woah there killer," Fred said flinching at the force of her wrath. "I know he's a git but he's still my brother."
"Fred. Let. Go." Her voice was quiet, and for some reason, it scared him more. Maybe it was the fact he had only seen Lyra mad once before. She was pretty hard to annoy.
"Sorry, can't do that. Mum would kill me if she knew I let you kill him."
She tugged towards the table, but his grip was tight.
"What's going on?" asked George walking over.
"We fancied a dance while your back was turned." Fred said sarcastically, "what does it look like? Help me!"
George put the drinks he was holding down on a nearby table and rushed over to the wrestling two. He gently grabbed the cup out of Lyra's hand and Fred immediately let go sending her stumbling forward. George managed to catch her in his free arm.
Fred brushed himself off with a huff. "She's got a temper that one."
George grinned at him. "Like you don't?"
Fred ran a hand through his hair returning his bothers smile. "just keep an eye on her okay? I don't want to die because shes went and murdered ickle Ronny."
"Will do," George said and Fred walked off to find his date. George's grip tightened around Lyra. "Let's get some fresh air."
He lead her out into a beautiful winter garden. Sitting her down at a bench. "Can't leave you alone for a minute can I?" He joked.
But she didn't answer, she just looked down at her hands ashamed.
"Lyra," he said softly "what happened? I thought, I thought we were having a good time."
Her head shot up and she reached over and grabbed his hand. "I was!" She said loudly, then turned scarlet and immediately dropped her gaze back down. She tried to let go of his hand but he held onto hers. "I think that may have been part of the problem to tell you the truth."
"I was having such a good time with you, that all my walls came right down. So when I ran into Hermione who was a complete wreck because of Ron, her heartbreak overcame me."
He nodded and then smiled. "Too bad Fred stopped you, I think I quite like fiesty Lyra."
Her blush deepened and she risked stealing a glance up at him. His once slicked back hair was starting to become unslicked. His lightly freckled cheeks were turning red from the cold. His lips formed into a grin. He leaned forward gently sweeping Lyras hair behind her ear.
Her stomach twisted a foreign feeling flooding her. He was so close. Too close. A shiver ran down her spine.
"Cold?" He asked his voice taking on a husky tone.
"I-I'm fine." She chocked out.
George smirked and stood up abruptly. So abruptly in fact that Lyra almost fell over. He shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders.
"George you really don't have-"
"Lyra stone if you take that jacket off I'll start stripping."
She looked at him horrified. "Thats playing dirty."
He shrugged "fairs for Hufflepuff's. Now let's get you inside your nose is turning pink from the cold." Or from me, he thought turning a little pink himself.
He walked her back to Ravenclaw Tower. They walked deliberately slow, taking the longest route. Neither wanted the night to end.
The hallways were mostly empty. Most couples saying goodnight in the great hall. Lyra wrapped herself tightly in his jacket, even though she wasn't cold. Its smell was intoxicating and she wanted to imprint it into her brain.
George smiled as he watched her. She looked so small wrapped up in his jacket. Lyra was very short for her age but plump. Never quite shedding the baby fat her mother told her she would. It never bugged her though.
"Looks like we're here," George said as they turned down the hall where the entrance to Ravenclaw lay. He bowed, "Sweet dreams milady." She giggled causing him to grin.
"Goodnight George." Her voice was quiet and sweet. He turned and began to walk the way they came. She bit her lip, her heart pounding.
"Hey, George?" She called her voice cracking.
He turned back around and before he could even respond she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down into a passionate kiss.
She could feel his surprise both through his emotion and also by how he stumbled. It quickly melted into lust and he pulled her in.
Lust and love surged between both of them as they clumsily kissed. Lyra finally pulled back out of breath.
He looked down at her, breathing heavily and a spark in his eye. "What, the bloody hell was that?" He sputtered out between breaths.
She took a moment before answering. "Merry Christmas George Weasley."
He grinned "you never cease to surprise me Lyra Stone."