George Weasley

The Quidditch pitch was slowly emptying after the friendly match, the cold evening air carrying the sound of distant voices towards the changing tents.

Slytherin had won. By two points.

And, judging by the expression on George Weasley’s face, he was taking that fact rather personally. You had barely stepped away from the pitch when you heard him behind you.

“Two points.”

You turned around, already knowing who it was. George stood a few feet away, his broom resting against his shoulder, his hair messier than usual after the match. His expression was somewhere between annoyed and amused.

“Yes,” you said. “I was there too when it happened, Weasley.”

“That wasn’t a proper win.” George lowered his broom, gesturing vaguely towards the pitch. “You scored two points in the last three minutes. That’s hardly enough to start celebrating like you’ve won the bloody World Cup.”

A short, disbelieving laugh escaped you. “So now you’re complaining because we won?”

“I’m saying Gryffindor played better.”

“Still we won, so you could’ve played better.”

George’s jaw tightened for a moment before he let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re annoying, i wonder what’s worse. For a few seconds, neither of you moved. The argument should have ended there, but neither of you seemed particularly willing to walk away first. George stepped closer, his expression turning more serious. “You know perfectly well that your chasers got lucky.”

“So? Just admit your chasers should’ve done better instead of coming to me and complaining, you’re annoyed because we won, and you didn’t.”

“I’m not annoyed, i’m just pointing it out… but fine,” he said. “Enjoy your two-point victory.”

“Oh, I will.” You walked away before he could reply, though you could still feel his eyes following you.

---

Later that evening, George sat in the Gryffindor common room with Fred, pretending to be interested in a piece of parchment in front of him. Fred had been watching him for several minutes. George sighed. “She gets under my skin.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“She argues about absolutely everything.”

“You’re no better” George gave him a look. Fred’s smile widened. “You like arguing with her.”

“I don’t, i like winning arguments. It’s different”

“You rarely win with her.” Fred said, George was quiet for a moment. Fred’s eyebrows lifted, then George frowned annoyed. “Don’t look at me like that. Like you’ve just figured something out.” Fred laughed softly, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, Georgie. I figured it out ages ago.” George threw a cushion at him.

---

The following day, you turned into a corridor and nearly collided with someone.

George Weasley

He caught himself just before walking into you, looking down at you with a familiar smirk. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then he tilted his head.

“Be honest,” George said. “Are you still celebrating that ridiculous two-point victory, or are you going to admit you only enjoyed winning because it meant you could annoy me?”