I'M GOOD, I'M GONE ? george weasley

# 011 ━━ jealousy, jealousy

With that, she pushed past the girls, her temper barely contained. She shoved her way through the crowd, her only goal to get out of the suffocating common room.

"Oh dear," murmured the woman in the painting as Deleine stormed out, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. She didn't stop until she reached the Astronomy Tower, where she could finally breathe. The cool night air hit her face, but it did little to calm the fire raging within her.

   Deleine stared out at the dark sky, the stars flickering like distant flames against the inky blackness. The cool night air did little to quell the heat of her frustration, a simmering rage that pulsed just beneath her skin. The sheer absurdity of it all gnawed at her—Phenix, the very girl who had accompanied her to pick out her dress, was now throwing herself at the boy Deleine had attended the Yule Ball with. How could someone be so shameless? So two-faced?

   She sighed deeply, the breath trembling as it left her lips. Her mind raced with thoughts she couldn't quite settle, emotions swirling like a storm. She wiped her face, brushing away the traces of anger and hurt that threatened to spill over, and tried to focus on her breathing, in and out, in and out, like Snape had told her a thousand times before. She could almost hear his voice in her head, that infuriatingly calm tone: "You need to control your temper, Deleine," he'd say, the words drawn out in that distinctive, clipped manner.

   Blah, blah, blah.

   She closed her eyes, letting her head fall forward until it rested on her arm. This was supposed to be her sanctuary, the one place she could retreat to when the world became too much—when the gossip, the stares, and the endless whispering behind her back threatened to break her. The Astronomy Tower had always been her escape, a refuge where she could lose herself in the vastness of the sky and the quiet solitude it offered.

   But tonight, even the night sky couldn't soothe her. She felt trapped, cornered by the very people she'd thought were her friends, and the betrayal stung more than she cared to admit. How was she supposed to face them again? How could she stand in that common room, look George in the eye, and pretend that nothing had changed?

   Deleine squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to calm down, but it was no use. The anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to explode. She'd always been like this, always quick to anger, quick to defend herself and those she cared about. But Snape had warned her, hadn't he? Warned her that this temper of hers would get her into trouble one day.

   Deleine's thoughts swirled, tangled like the threads of a fraying tapestry as she tried to make sense of everything, her breath shallow and uneven. She'd come to the Astronomy Tower to find some peace, but the quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps echoing behind her. She didn't turn around, refusing to give the intruder any of her attention until they chose to reveal themselves.

   Without a word, she lifted her head, gazing out at the vast expanse of the night, her irritation simmering beneath the surface. But before she could react, a gentle hand closed over hers, resting on the cold stone of the balcony railing. Instinctively, she almost jerked her hand away, but the grip was firm—familiar. She turned to see George standing there, his brown eyes soft yet amused, a small grin playing on his lips. Deleine's brows furrowed in response, but she said nothing, her mood too dark to match his lightheartedness.

   "Wait—Deleine," George began, his voice tinged with regret. "I should've told you. I know I should've said something—I just didn't know how. I'm sorry."

   Deleine sighed, her gaze drifting back to the sky, the weight of his apology not lifting the heaviness in her chest. "What does it matter? She was right. There's nothing permanent about us," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

   "It doesn't have to be," George quickly replied, his tone earnest. "I want you to take as much time as you need. I don't want you to feel rushed because of some silly crush."

   "It's not silly, George," Deleine said, finally glancing at him, her eyes reflecting the troubled thoughts in her mind. "It's not silly to her." The two sat in a brief, tense silence before George spoke again, his voice a touch unsteady, likely from the firewhisky he'd indulged in earlier. "You shouldn't feel like I'm just going to up and leave, you know? No matter what Lovegood's got going on—my feelings don't lie with her," he explained, his words sincere despite the slight wobble. "I want to give this a go with you. I'm not interested in anyone else."

   His words were earnest, and Deleine fought hard not to let them sway her. But it was difficult when every time she glanced at him, he was wearing that maddening grin—the one that made her heart skip a beat. "If you want, I'll stand in the middle of the corridor and—" he began.

   "No!" she cut him off quickly, a hint of alarm in her voice, which only made George chuckle quietly. He held out his arms for a hug, but Deleine merely rolled her eyes and turned away. Undeterred, George stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "George!" she groaned, though there was no real bite in her tone, especially as he buried his face into her shoulder. She swatted at his arms, but a smile tugged at her lips, one she was trying her best to hide from him.

   They stood there in silence, George's head resting comfortably on her shoulder. Deleine stared out at the night before slowly turning her gaze back to him. Sensing her attention, George lifted his head. "I really do adore you, Deleine," he muttered, his voice low and a bit slurred from the alcohol. It seemed like the firewhisky was doing the talking, letting slip things he might not have said otherwise. But the sincerity behind the words made Deleine smile despite herself.

   It was mushy, not very Weasley-like at all, and yet she found herself grinning back at him. They locked eyes, and Deleine could feel his arms gently tightening around her waist, as if he were nervous. Her hand, resting on one of his, began to trace gentle circles on his skin. She breathed out, glancing away for a moment to steady herself.

   But when she looked back, the next thing she knew, George's lips were on hers. It was a soft, unexpected kiss, and Deleine froze, completely unsure of what to do. She had never kissed anyone before, and now George Weasley was her first. Her stillness must have given her away, but George continued to kiss her, tilting his head as the kiss deepened, their lips moving together in a rhythm that felt strangely right.

  Deleine's hand slid up to rest on George's cheek, her touch warm and soft. When she finally pulled her hand away, neither of them noticed the faint pink mark left on his cheek, a remnant of the warmth that radiated from her touch. She wasn't blazing hot with anger like usual, but there was a comfortable warmth in her cheeks and hands, a gentle heat that made her blush even more.

. . .

authors note: their first official kiss! I wrote the last part when i was half way asleep this morning bc i stayed up all night writing the yule ball 💀💀.

this book is getting more traction so im trying to up my game! with you guys, make it more entertaining which is why im gonna try to delve into Deleine's abilities more often like I did in this chapter also i'm gonna delve more into her being around Snape and him helping her out! because he's supposed to be her main father figure so yk yk.

anyways i hope you guys enjoy. love you guys!