XI

Cassiopeia covered her mouth with her hand, trying to muffle a laugh while George watched her face.

"How come no one told me about that?!" she exclaimed.

He'd just told the girl about the day he and his brother had tried to put their names in the Goblet of Fire and ended up with huge red beards and puffy hair, looking thirty years older.

"Well, lots of people did it," he shrugged. "It's not like we were the only ones."

The Malfoy shook her head in disbelief.

"It was a stupid decision," she decided. "A very stupid decision."

He shrugged.

"It was worth the try. They got us only for a few months."

She tilted her head just the slightest.

"Did you turn 17 already?"

He shook his head.

"This April," he corrected her. "The first of April."

She widened her eyes at him, completely surprised.

"On April Fools?!"

He smiled with a laugh.

"Right on it," her friend nodded.

"Big coincidence!" she affirmed.

He shook his head, smiling again.

"No, my dear. I call that destiny."

Cassiopeia rested her head back on her pillow, feeling a bit colder and pulling her covers up.

"You've heard of our pranks, right?" he enquired. "Stuff we do and all?"

She nodded. Fred and George were rather famous in school for their pranks. They'd even been rumoured to have invented a spell along with their usual magical things.

"We made a Canary Cream recently," he said smiling. "It turns people into..."

"Canaries?" she rose an eyebrow.

George confirmed eagerly.

"They are custard creams," he explained. "You should take some to Slytherin."

The two exchanged looks before they started laughing together.

"Don't give me ideas," she pointed. "Although… that little friend of Draco deserves something to keep her mouth shut. Her voice annoys me even if she's on the other side of the corridor."

He frowned.

"Who are you talking about? Parkinson?"

She nodded.

"Who else would it be?" Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows at him. "She's such a brat."

George just stared at her, half smiling and half frowning.

"Come on, I thought you were a brat for the last six years," he pointed.

Cassiopeia's jaw fell open in response.

"I never behaved anything like a brat to you!" she exclaimed. "I was always very polite!"

He laughed loudly.

She was right. Cassiopeia had never been any close to rude to him or anything like that. Every time he bumped into her or the two shared a classroom, she either ignored him or treated him in the best cordial way.

"Alright, Miss Malfoy," he rolled his eyes. "Maybe I was wrong. But you were always just so… Malfoy-ish."

She tilted her head, completely confused.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Look at yourself," he pointed. "You're this… Beautiful girl from a very rich family, with your back always straight, walking with your head up. With your hair in place and your clothes always smooth and clean. I could always smell you from across the room and you never ever smelt less than good."

She just continued staring at him.

"Thank you," she said in a low voice.

"You're welcome," he looked down at his own hands, playing with the sheet between his fingers. "Well, anyway. You were always this… Perfect girl," he said firmly. "I always thought you'd be uptight and annoying."

"Do you still think that?" she questioned in a soft voice.

"That you're uptight and annoying?" he said, surprised. "No way! I mean, you're still a Slytherin. But I see how that can be okay now that I know you. And you're a bit of a goody-two-shoes, even being a Slytherin, but maybe you're a good influence. Professor McGonagall was surprised when we delivered our homework every single time in the last three or four classes, me and Fred. She said she couldn't remember the last time we actually did so."

She chuckled, shaking her head. It's not that George or his brother had done any homework. Cassiopeia had just leCassiopeiarom hers with some modifications to make it look like it was something he'd done alone – or at least they'd done together – and Fred had done the same. She didn't mind it, it wasn't like he asked her for it, she was the one offering it to him.

The blonde girl rested back on the bed and bit her fingernail nervously when a question crossed her mind.

"Do you still think I'm that?"

He looked at her in confusion.

"Annoying?"

"No," she shook her head, not looking directly at him. "Beautiful and… Perfect."

George's mouth opened and closed for a moment before Madam Pomfrey walked into the room.

"Alright, Mr Weasley," she walked to them. "Time to go, Miss Malfoy needs to take her potions and rest. Go, go, go."

He stood up dumbly just as she pushed him away, and her eyes were completely glued to his figure leaving.

"Wait," he finally said, almost out of her field of vision. "Wait."

The matron put her hands on her waist.

"Mr Weasley!"

"I never stopped thinking that," he said to Cassiopeia. "I don't think I will ever find you less than beautiful and perfect."

And with that, he left.