|Scene Title||The Awkward Stage|
|Synopsis||A few days after the Weasley Revenge, George and Angelina finally get a chance to talk.|
|Date||Dec 18, 1994|
|Watch For||Lots of Teenage Awkwardness. Oy.|
[HGW] - Meadows
The rear courtyard spills out into a large meadow. The area isn't entirely flat, sometimes the ground drops off sharply down the hills. In the spring and summer, the grass is spongy and emerald green, in the winter; snow blankets the area, inviting everyone of all ages out into the open for harmless winter sport. (With a wizard's flair of course.) The meadow is boarded abruptly by the forest that is off limits to students. Situated at the edge of the forest is a circular shaped, wooden hut. This is the home of Rubeus Hagrid, the Keeper of the Keys and Groundskeeper of Hogwarts. Smaller areas of the meadow contain grassy knolls, flagstone paths, stone fountains and statues.
Sitting by itself, away from the forest edge is a recent addition, the Whomping Willow. It was planted in 1972, and no one really seems to know why. It's a rather, uhm, violent tree and hits anyone that comes near it! Some students occasionally try to poke at the knots on the tree on dares.
[HH] Hagrid's Hut [RC] Rear Courtyard
It is a saturday. Hurray!! Angelina has come outside into the cold, all bundled up, complete with scarf and mittens, to help some little firsties build a snowman. Consider it her good deed for the week. Snowman completed, non-magically, of course, she is standing back and looking over their work. The little ones have run off to find a carrot for a nose and rocks for the eyes and mouth, and left her standing there.
Suddenly, there's a whistling fizzing noise and ffffffwipt! Something trailing gold sparks zooms across the meadow, missing the snowman by barely a hair. "Watch out!" George yells, running across the meadow to chase the popper, wand out, Fred chasing close behind. "Rogue popper!" The golden ball zips into the air as George swipes his wand at it, exploding overhead into … flowers? Okay. He comes to a stop somewhere near Angelina, leaning forward and huffing.
After nearly 6 full years with the Weasley twins, Angelina knows when to duck. Hearing George yell, her response is immediate. Forget the firsties! Every man for himself! She ducks, squatting down on the ground and making herself as small as she possibly can. Better to avoid being hit that way! Once the danger has passed, Angie rises once more, watching the breathless twin. "You know, if you would go running with me every morning, you wouldn't be all out of breath like that."
George rolls his eyes at Angelina, but he grins. "I've been running after the damn thing since Fred set it off in the Gryffindor commons," he says. That's six flights of stairs and all across the grounds! "I was afraid it'd hit someone and then Filch would come down on us." He straightens up, looking around at the firsties and the snowman. "Please don't tell me you're hangin' out with the icklie firsties?" He grins. Fred is… who knows where Fred went. He was here one minute and now he's gone the next. Maybe he's upset that his brother got dibs on Angelina before he did. Hmph!
"Yes. I am hanging out with the firsties. They asked me to help build a snowman, and it sounded like fun. So, here I am." Angelina is still sounding a bit annoyed, but at least she has stopped glaring daggers at any male Weasley. "Do you have a better idea of something to do on a non-Hogsmeade saturday when there is no Quidditch?"
"Well, you could hang out with me," George says instantly, but suddenly, his mouth is shut. He hadn't meant to say it quite so eagerly. "I mean, we're always doing something fun," without the first years, that is. He reaches in his pocket and produces a handful of the small balls like the one just exploded overhead. "We're coming up with a bunch of them, but we don't know what to call 'em yet. You light them and they are supposed to zip up in the air and explode into something." The other one was flowers, obviously.
Angelina tucks her hands into the pocket of her heavy wool cloak, chin lowering a little. He did answer that way too quickly. Is he planning a prank? "I..could do that, I guess. Depends on what you guys are doing." She considers the balls in his hand. "What kind of things do they explode into? It is nice things or horrible things? I can help you think of a name maybe." Pause. "If you want me to."
George shrugs, "I've just been calling them "those exploding balls" … but yeah." He grips one between his forefinger and thumb, tapping it with his wand and tossing it in the air. It fizzles with blue sparks and spins upward, spiraling. "Mostly nice things. I think Fred hexed a couple to explode into pudding or paint or rainclouds that follow you around for hours. I don't think these are it." … Think? Uh oh. He watches as the blue one flies higher until it bursts into little paper stars. "Some have been duds, but I think that's Fred's doing. Filch found a couple that a first year stole and fortunately, all they did was sparkle."
"Surely we can come up with a better name for them than that." She tips her head back to watch the pretty paper stars fall from the sky to the ground around them. Some of them end up on her hat and cloak, of course. "It would be fun to make some that we could set off after we win a game next year. When we win, the whole house can set them off at the pitch in the stands. They could be red and gold stars and streamers. Wouldn't that be fun?"
George watches the stars fall on Angelina, leaning forward a smidge and then leaning back. He was probably going to move to brush them off, but decided against it. "It wouldn't be hard to make 'em larger, with more stuff in them. We can probably have them explode into red and gold streamers or fireworks. That'd be pretty cool, actually." He looks closely at another in his hand, "I think this one is Fred's." And we know what that means! He throws it up, but instead throws it over the group of first years, now walking away. Sure enough, it sparkles silver and flies overhead, bursting into a raincloud that thunders threateningly, pouring over the now screeching firsties. "Yep, thought so."
Angelina watches what he does to the firsties, then turns to run after him, almost laughing. "George! That was horribly mean." But, yeah. Funny as hell! "Can you believe it will be our last year next year? No more quidditch, unless we make the pros. And even then, they better put us all on the same team."
"Unless /you/ make the pros, you mean?" George grins, shrugging off her reprimand of him tossing the raincloud over the first years. It follows the other students as they shriek and run off towards the school. He looks at another ball and grins, lighting it and throwing it up in the air as it screeches and fizzles red. "After school's out, Fred and I are buying out Gambol and Japes in Diagon Alley."
"Well, you could go pro a few years too! It would give you guys the knuts to buy them out, and you could work on new things during the off season." Angelina walks along beside him, looking up at the red shimmering and smiling. "But only if you're on the same team as me. I don't want you beating AT me instead of FOR me."
George just shrugs again, watching as the red ball overhead bursts into flame and a sparkling phoenix made of fireworks swoops down and around the meadow. "I think it'll take a lot more than a few knuts, but we've got our plans on how to get the galleons to get the place." He grins at her, but likes the idea of working with her in the future, even if it's just wishful thinking. "Nah, we love quidditch and all, but we're done with it after next year. We've got plans to buy out Gambol right after graduation, hopefully."
"Oh." Angelina grows quiet as the phoenix flies about the meadow, watching it before speaking quietly. "I was kind of looking forward to playing with you guys forever. I guess I just..always assumed we would just always all be together."
Now that Angelina sounds like she's sad about it, George suddenly regrets telling her. "But you know, I /do/ expect you to come in regularly. How great would it be for business if a famous quidditch player came to the Weasleys' joke shop?" He grins and laughs, nudging at her with his elbow. "Maybe you can help us come up with items directed at quidditch players, anyways? Target goggles that show the names above the players around you!" Yes, because that would be excellent.
"Yeah. I guess I could do that. But it won't be the same, you know." She walks along beside him. "Oh. By the way. In case you need to know. My dress is red. With silver accents. And I don't know if it matters or not, but it has matching gloves."
George walks a little close to her, slowly, hands stuffed in the back pockets of his jeans. He's not wearing the school robes today, just a thick black sweater and jeans. "It won't be so bad. We'll never let you forget about us," he promises, grinning again. As she mentions the dress, his ears redden - at least his hair is nearly the same color, so it's probably not so noticable. "Oh, um, it is? That sounds … that sounds great." It really does. But why did she tell him this? He should probably ask Ginny…
Is Angie actually blushing? It might be hard to tell with her dark complexion. "Yeah. It sounds pretty. Mum picked up for me and owled me about it today. She said you would need to know, so I'm telling you." Ha! Maybe she doesn't know why he needs to know either! "I..you…uhm. Do you dance well?"
Angelina's mum said that he'd need to know? Oh /great/, now George is REALLY going to have to ask Ginny why it matters what color his date's dress is. "Oh, um, right. Okay." Yes, he's confused. "Dance? Well, Professor McGonagall said I was a decent dancer, and we've got those lessons. Fred's downright awful," he grins. So it's a good thing she's not going with Fred, right? "Do you know how to dance?"
"Me? Yeah. I'm alright at it." Angie kicks at the snow as she walks along. "The team has a party every year. Formal dinner parties and the like. As I got older, my father brought me rather than my mother. I was much more interested in meeting the players than my mother was, and she works all the time. I can dance pretty well."
Oh great, now she has pro quidditch players to compare him to. George nods, "Well, don't be too hard on me if I start stepping on your feet, okay? I can't be blamed for it," he grins and then is quiet.
She's always had pro quidditch players to compare him to. That is no different now, is it? Besides, they didn't ask her to a ball! "I promise. I won't hold it against you." Angie clears her throat. "You..don't have to meet me at the dormitory. It isn't like we're going out really for real or anything. I can just meet you downstairs. Outside the door or something."
George pauses in his walking, looking at her. "Why wouldn't I want to pick you up at the dorms?" he asks, confused. But as she mentions that they aren't really going out, there's a perceptible change. "Oh, um, right." He says that a lot around Angelina, evidently. "I mean, it's no big deal, if you don't want me to pick you up from the dorms." There is a long pause as they begin walking again. "I.. I would like to, though. If you want."
Now it is Angelina's turn to not walk. She stands there for a moment, watching him, weighing his words, doing that thing girls do when they are trying to figure out for the life of them if boys mean what they think they mean, or if they mean something completely different. Suddenly, she smiles shyly before moving closer to him to nudge with her shoulder. "You can pick me up at the dorm."
As she pauses, George is bewildered. Did he say something wrong? Does she not really want to go with him? All of these little insecurities run scenarios through his mind, each one of them ending with her ditching him. Though as she smiles, he smiles too, with relief. "Okay," is all he says, grinning as she nudges him with her shoulder, nudging her back.
He had to go and nudge her back, didn't he? Her grin turns more devilish. He is so in trouble now. Angie drifts away a bit, then turns to run into him a bit harder than she did the last time. At least he knows she is no breakable china doll. He's hit her with a bludger enough to be clear on that.
OI! That's not nice! "Oh, you're /so/ tough." George is no pansy though, he just laughs and shoves at her before wrapping one arm around her shoulders and giving her a noogie, just like he'd do to Fred, Ron, or Lee. He realizes where his arm is though and he seems to pause for a long moment, but it stays. Hey, was that suave or what?
Angelina laughs as she is shoved again before being pulled in close. "Hey! Watch the hair!! Its under my hat you know! To get hat head this perfect takes /work/." She starts walking on, still laughing. Only. Gee. His arm is still around her shoulders. Hmm. No complaints from Angelina. Nope. Not one. Did she even step closer?
Wait, she stepped closer? George has no idea what to do and he clears his throat, taking his arm off her shoulders and nonchallantly moving it backwards through his hair, shoving his hands into his pockets. "So. What time do I need to meet you?" For the ball, that is.
Oh. Uh oh. Well that is confusing. "Err.." Angelina looks down and away, face so red. Quickly, she takes two steps away from him. Wow. She misread that one, didn't she?? "I…when I'm ready?"
Aw damn, George really mucked that one. His ears flush, spreading to his cheeks. "Oh, okay," he says, nodding, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets. If his hands can't get out of his pockets, they can't get him into trouble. "I'll be ready, then."
"Yeah. Yeah. I'll…I'll send a firstie or something when I'm ready. Have to make a grand entrance and all. Or..not. If you don't want me to." She lifts her mittened hand and rubs at her right cheek. AWKWARD. Can you feel it? Oh yeah. "You get the first and last dance. As my date. That is what my mother said."
"No, no, grand entrance it is," George says, trying to insist. "First and last dance? Oh, okay…" Just the first and last? He was hoping to dance with her the entire time, but if she doesn't want to, he's not going to make her. He inhales, exhaling slowly, trying to relax.
"Well, yes. Because those are the most important dances of the night. And, well…if you want them in between, that is good too. Just, she said those are the most important. To make sure I didn't let anyone else drag me out to dance before you, and to not leave without a last dance. That's all." Angelina dares a glance over at him. "So…yeah."
Oh. George nods, trying to hide his disappointment at the idea, feeling that Angelina doesn't even really want to give him that much. Boy, when he drops the ball, it really drops hard, eh? "Right, that's nice of your mum. To give you tips, I mean." He has no one to get tips from. 'Cept maybe Ginny. Fred would just tease him endlessly.
"Well, it is my first real ball, after all. I mean, I've been to dances, but not..like..this. With a date and all." Ahem. This is so awkward. "I've not really been on a real date before. I mean, I've hung out on Hogsmeade weekends, but dressing up and …" Her voice trails off. "George? Can I ask you something?"
George looks somewhat surprised; Angelina has never been on a date before. "Really, you haven't?" Color him surprised! He'd have figured she's been on loads of dates by now. She catches him off guard with her question and he looks at her. "Yeah, sure, what's up?"
"Well, not a real one. Other than Lee, no one ever really asked." She stands there for a moment, shoving her hands back into her pockets. "Did you..did you just ask me because you feel sorry for me? If you did, its…embarrassing..but okay. I mean, I'll still go. I just…." Angie's shoulders shrug.
There is a long, embarassing pause. George stops when she does scuffing his feet, looking down for a moment before looking up, redness creeping back into his face. It's because he's cold though, yes, yes it is. "No," is all he says, looking down again.
A slow head nod. Her brown eyes lift to his face. "Okay." It is barely a whisper, but something about her relaxes. Her shoulders seem less tense. That is a horrible feeling, thinking someone only asked you because they felt sorry for you. "I…didn't just accept because you were the only one to ask."
It's hard to hold back the little grin on George's face as Angelina admits that she didn't just accept because he was the only one to ask. In fact, it makes him see fireworks, but he contains his surprised excitement. "Okay," he says and keeps walking towards the school, but he's smiling.
There really isn't anything more to say. Without another word, Angie turns to walk back into the school next to him, a careful distance away. Oddly, a bit further away than she normally would. It is that new, awkward, not sure what to do kind of thing.
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