You never had a particularly stable temper throughout your life. In fact, even something as little as your shirt getting caught on a doorknob could ruin your entire day.

Poor George had yet to find out about it until now.

Fred and himself sat just off to the side of you as you argued with a Slytherin girl during dinner in the great hall, your body swiveled completely around as the verbal battle ensued.

He shared a quick glance with Fred as he witnessed your argument first hand, bringing his cup to his lips to take a small sip of water. His eyes were wide with surprise and even a little of concern.

"They're no different than a firecracker.."

He muttered with utter bewilderment.