George pouts as he carries around the bag of sweets, his frown pointed at her intently as she walks a few steps in front of him, humming away without a care in the world because she hadn't a care in the world.

The sweets from Honeydukes were for her, technically, even if she had gotten only the things that he said he liked. Iola had never been allowed to have many treats growing up, it wasn't good for her physique, for her training and purposely against her diet.

But she didn't mind breaking her diet for him. To hell with her dietary restrictions and physique if it meant she was free to enjoy her time with him as she wished. Because George was worth it. More than worth it. And she was willing to chase that light, airy feeling in her chest that was like a fluttery warmth but more when he was near.

"You said something about butterbeer, yes? I have never tried it before but I would still like to," she says, stepping back to his side so she could watch the way he fights the pout away to grin, offering his arm as he leads her to a distinct tavern looking place. The sign read The Three Broomsticks.

"You're going to love it," he swears, tucking her closer as he leads her into the crowded establishment.

All of these Hogwarts students coming at one time made her wonder idly if it had much of an effect on their income. Would they make relatively less during the summer months when school was out?

"Many people appear to enjoy it, it seems," she remarks, clinging to the back of his jumper with tight fingers.

He glances back, freckles like dark smudges in the dim light. "Don't tell me you're scared of a little crowd," he teased.

"Never. I am used to a crowd. I simply wish to be nearer to you," she finds herself speaking honestly, eyes chasing the flush that burst over his cheeks, spreading to his ears.

George gapes, cheeks pink. "You can't just say things like that."

"Why not? It is simply something that I have seen others say before..."

"Yeah, couply people."

"Yes, couple people, but it is not always like this. Is this not the stage that we are at? Dinah tells me that it is the time for flirting and teasing."

"Dinah told you this?"

Iola nods sagely. "I do not know the right way to do these things, and she advised me that this was correct."

He takes her hand, brushing his thumb against her open palm. "You don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with or anything you don't want to do."

Smiling, she locked her fingers with his. "I do this because I wish to. Do not worry about that. I am very fond of you, George. I am not good with emotions nor am I good with people."

Lifting her hand, he kisses her knuckles. "Take your time to figure it out. I like you just the way you are, you know."

He stands, moving to the counter to order their drinks, and Iola sighs happily, the burst of warmth through her chest like tiny birds wings making her feels light and weightless.

It was easier than she thought, allowing herself to feel so many things, letting herself become distracted no matter how bitter guilt lingered. Aveline wasn't here to ruin things for her now, wasn't here to command and control as some little puppet all over again.

Feelings were okay. She was okay, and as long as she continued to tell herself this everything was to be fine.

He places two mugs down before her, sliding into her side again. She smiles at him softly, accepting the beverage eagerly.

George watches her take the first sip I've the rum of his glass, smiling to himself as she hums in content and begins to swallow it down as quickly as she could while remaining polite.

"So, what do you think?" He teases, holding away his own drink when she eyes it.

Iola licks her lips. "It is satisfactory."

Barking a laugh, he shakes his head. "Satisfactory? You're going to break poor Rosmerta's heart."

"She hardly needs my approval."

"Everyone needs Miss Iola-Colette Bouchard's approval. It's a must and an honour to earn her favour when she's so aloof."

"I am not aloof. Nor am I picky. I simply have a tight grasp of my image. This is an important thing, after all."

George snickers. "Yes, your image is very important. How else are you going to get the boys to fall at your feet?"

She makes a soft sound of disgust. "I do not need boys to fall at my feet. Those who do so would not be worthy of my hand," she says, eyeing George carefully. "They would have to be willing to fight for my hand and a place to be my equal. I do not mind if they have dreams that are just as ambitious as my own yet incredibly different."

He flushes, taking a sip of his drink to avoid answering her.

Iola doesn't mind as she looks over his freckles, mapping them in her mind and committing them to memory with the red burning behind them.

He was incredibly handsome, she always knew that. Not as tall as his brothers, he was still taller than her. He was much more muscled than them though with wide shoulders. His eyes were earthy and alluring, hair a startling red, orange almost, like fire.

She had met many attractive men in her life, but none were so attractive to her as George was and it was something that she could not quite understand what it was that made him so different in her eyes.

"What is it about you that makes me so attentive?" she asks, searching for the answer in him.

"Pardon?"

"Why am I so interested in everything that you are doing? I find you to be the most attractive man that I have ever met and I do not know why."

His cheeks burn, the colour bright in the dark room as he turns a brilliant red. It was surprisingly easy to make him so beautifully flustered, even if she didn't quite know what it was that she was doing to entice such a quick reaction from him.

She loved seeing it, though, loved seeing how he only reacted such a way for her. It was a train of thought that she had never really considered before as she had never quite been faced with the opportunity to be possessive, greedy. Iola wanted all of his attention for herself whenever she wanted, whenever she could.

It was not the same with her other friends, friends that she could spend days without speaking to, months without seeing, and she would continue to pass on as though nothing was different or changed.

Iola knew that she loved her friends, that Fleur and Sophie were the closest she had to a real family that she could get, that, somehow, Francois and Gerome were also making it past acquaintance, as well.

And there was Dinah and Harry, and she supposed she could count Helene among their ranks as well, but none were so close to her as Fleur and Sophie, yet she had never felt quite so strongly about them as she did for George.

It was a different type of something that the sort of sheltered, controlled life that Aveline had given her left her more unprepared for life on her own than anything else.

"You have to stop saying things like that."

"Sorry." She wasn't. "I do not mean to upset you."

"It's not upsetting. It's just that you're famous and I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea and heckle you."

"That is silly. Why would they heckle me?" She shakes her head, pushing his mug back up to his mouth. "Drink. There are other things for you to show me. I want you to show me every place inn Hogsmead that is important."

"I've been reduced to simple tour guide?" he gasps playfully, downing the rest of his drink with a little sigh. "Very well, if that's what the lady wants."

Iola smiles at him, taking his hand without hesitation as he stands. "The lady would like to do whatever you wish as long as she is allowed to stay with you."

He grins then, all cheeky smiles and twinkling eyes. "Shall we, my lady?"

"Lead the way."

There's a chill that's locked within as they come stumbling into the Great Hall. Iola's clinging to his arm, giggling as he tells her about one prank or another in the most extravagant way that we could.

Each new memory recalled brings a new round of questions and dramatic explanations. She was pleased to see him smile, to know that he was smiling at her, with her, and possibly because of her.

She had never been so enraptured by a single person in her life.

The hall was warm, the fire roasting front and center as students chatted loudly amongst themselves. None were in uniform, the weekend privileges not to be taken for granted.

Perhaps that's what made it so easy for her to join in beside his twin at the Gryffindor table with head held high as she caught the attention of most.

Iola was familiar with people looking to her, with so many eyes focused on her and the public figure that she had become. Fame came with such things. The publicity, the attention, the rumours and gossip, but this all felt far too different for her tastes. It was the judgement that she could detect in their eyes, the disgust and distrust that had yet to fade due to the deeds of her mother.

She had not expected the world to forget that Aveline Bouchard was a... Death Eater so quickly. She had not expected for them to all ignore the pain and suffering that her mother had likely spread -- but she had not believed them all to face her as though she was the one to commit such atrocities.

It was as if they had forgotten that she was Aveline's favourite victim.

Raised better than to fall beneath their stares, Iola ignored them no matter how much their dismissal felt like the worst betrayal. To lose admirers, to lose fans, those that idolized her or respected her achievements, look to her with such eyes made her stomach twist and turn in a way that she could not understand, but very much didn't like.

She was going to rectify such a situation. She was going to win them over once more, prove them wrong, and in the end, their opinion of her didn't matter when they were wrong. Iola knew the truth, and she knew that she was better all the same without their admiration. Her success wasn't dependent on any of them.

George sits close, sticking to her side, and she leans closer, if only a little, completely unnoticeable, as he begins to pick what he wishes to eat.

She follows as he does, slowly loading her plate with as little as possible. She was quite full from all the sweets she had eaten.

"What's this, then?" Feed asks, pointing his forks at the pair of them. "Where have you two been all day?"

"Sod off, Freddie."

"Now, now, Georgie."

"We were in Hogsmead all day. Sorry that you were not invited," she says.

"I'm not," George grumbles, glaring at his brother. "Don't need him around all the time."

Iola bites back a smile as she nods slowly. "I have heard that it is good to have distance. Have you used the time alone to your advantage, Fred?"

His eyes narrow. "He taught you a couple of jokes and you think you're a right laugh, now."

"I am quite serious. Did you enjoy your day? I was told that you were hoping to see a girl from Ravenclaw. How did it go?"

He turns a bright red, almost as bright as she was able to make George go, as he ducked his head, refusing to meet her gaze as he shovelled food into his mouth.

"'Bout as well as I imagine it went," George laughs, budging his brother as he scowls at him.

"That is too bad. Next time."

"Yeah, Freddie, you'll get her next time," George says, softer, kinder than his teasing. "Helene's just the shy sort."

Iola blinks. "Helene? Oh, I can speak to her if you wish? I spend time with her often because of Dinah. We get along well. She is very timid. I would not think she is your type."

She was a good person, a good friend — a sweet girl that didn't speak much or enjoy drawing attention to herself. When she did speak, it was always something worth saying.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"It is just that I have always believed that she prefers quiet, but if there is a possibility that she's interested in you, then this is clearly not the case," Iola comments on her observations, the few that she was capable of distinguishing herself. "But I would not trust in my opinion. I am not knowledgeable on the emotions of myself, let alone others. I can distinguish body language, however. I can let you know if she is comfortable around you."

George places a hand on her shoulder, the gentle pressure he applies bringing her to look up at him. "Don't worry about him, Iola. He'll ask if he needs help from either of us."

"You are sure?"

"Positive."

She nods. "Very well. Good luck in your endeavours, Fred."

Picking at her food once more, she drizzles some sort of sauce onto her couscous and mixes it with her vegetables.

"That was... you just end a conversation so quickly," Fred mutters, shaking his heads as he starts to pick at his own meal.

"Was there more to say?"

George laughs, squeezing her shoulder one more time before taking it away. She frowns at the loss of warmth.

"Just eat up, Iola. You can help us work on our Defence paper when we're done."

"You do not need help in Defence," Iola points out.

"Yeah, but you'll help me anyway, won't you?" George asks with a crooked smile.

Her heart feels heavy as it beats against her ribs, heat spreading through her chest the longer she looks at him.

Iola bites at her food quickly. "I suppose I will."

°°°
Vote,
Comment,
& follow me on wattpad

Hello!! Sorry you had to wait so long for an update!! Hope you enjoyed it!!

Unedited

2020-04-14