You don't know when it started or how, but now you find yourself involved with George Weasley. When I say involved, I mean a relationship between friends who, when they want to, end up lying together under the sheets, without clothes and with their legs tangled together. You're not friends with benefits; you didn't even talk to reach that agreement, nor do you acknowledge what you do when no one is watching. You don't seek each other out, you're just drawn to each other like magnets, and when you finally get together, you don't even know how it happened.

No one knew about this, at least that's what he swore to you after one of those encounters. He was putting on his shirt and swore by Merlin that he would keep this a secret between you, not even Fred could know.

The encounters began approximately every two months, until every week you found yourself there with him in his bed, his bedroom, wearing his shirt, surrounded by his scent. It was confusing. You could be cuddling with him, warm, but nothing ever went further, it was never serious, and it was obvious that he didn't intend for it to be. One look into his eyes was enough to know that George wasn't going to make a move.

Were those encounters so insignificant to him? Once you found yourself in the Gryffindor common room, dissociating and overthinking, until you felt his hand touch your leg. You immediately pushed it away. It was a natural reaction, you didn't think about it at the time, but your reaction did not go unnoticed by him. George frowned, but said nothing and turned to look at Fred talking to Angelina.

From that day on, he no longer sought you out, he just existed around you, but you were no longer the centre of his attention. It was one of the times you saw him getting too close to Alicia while they were at The Three Broomsticks. You felt confused... it was a feeling of discomfort that built up in your stomach. So that's all they were? Friends who slept together, but as soon as you reject him, he goes looking for another fool to fall for his charms?

You were furious. You knew it was irrational, but he wasn't being much better, was he? So you started ignoring him; you walked past him, you didn't say hello at breakfast, lunch and dinner, you weren't paying attention to him every time he and Fred explained a joke they played on Filch. You were physically there, but your mind was not where he wanted it to be. George is not stupid, he noticed everything.

"You don't say hello anymore?" said the redhead when you walked past him. "No 'good morning'? How strange. You used to annoy me every morning, without fail."

You didn't look at him and kept walking. George clicked his tongue and stopped you, grabbing your wrist. His grip wasn't rough, just firm enough to keep you from getting away. "Seriously, what's wrong?" he asked, looking down at you.

You didn't answer.

"{{user}}." George said. "What's wrong?" he repeated, his tone becoming lower, his brown eyes searching for yours.