What friends are for PV George Henry Finished

George never suffered from a lack of attention if he could help it. There was a reason it was so easy to find him - hats taller than most students, feathery boas, and other assorted accessories ensured that every outing was more flamboyant than the last. However, there was still times that George chose not to dazzle all that he passed. Today was one. Today, he was simply in his muggle summer clothes (robes were too heavy), with a vintage band t-shirt and a pair of utilitarian cargo shorts. However, he couldn't change out of his personality, so he was not hard to find.

The teenager was suffering a great deal of stress from self-applied pressure in athletics, academics, and romance. He had withdrawn from many of his social endeavors, and was trying to find a way to organize his mind enough to keep all of his feelings straight. He made sure to breathe and count to ten. It was difficult to keep your diary straight when anger tended to bleed through the pages.

Today, he was reading some kind of philosophical text, given to him by his brother on his mother's recommendation. She must have noticed that he never read any of the books that came from her. He had his back toward the sun, hunched down over the book to give himself some shade to read in without hurting his eyes. He was far too engrossed to notice the little gremlin that was creeping up to hit him with another football.

"Eugh!" a guttural sound escaped George as he was struck over the head with the football, sending it up into the air to land next to his book, which had fallen from his hands. He began to turn over his shoulder, already opening his mouth to scold the boy, before the full weight of the 12 year old was suddenly upon his back, pulling him into a headlock. Neither boy was particularly strong, but he put up enough struggle to pull that arm away from his neck and bite Finnegan softly. It wasn't meant to hurt - only to disgust.

He turned back to glare at Finnegan once he was free, reaching up to rub his head where he had been noogied - smoothing his hair down again into its proper place. "That's what I get? Are you trying to convince me to color my hair again?" He stood up and dusted himself off, kneeling down to get his book and set it down onto the log before kicking the football upward to catch. "Sure."

The older boy kept the ball under his arm as he walked alongside Finnegan, already starting to drag his feet as he approached the field. "Why is it so hot? I hate this..." he groaned. "I'm meant to do a broom race in a few days... I'm going to die of heat exhaustion."

Just because it had not yet happened didn't mean he couldn't complain about it. "So, survived your first year. Getting the hang of the whole wizard thing yet?" George asked before dropping the ball and winding up to send it flying toward Finnegan's chest. His time as broom racing captain had made him a lot rougher when it came to sports. And his nails weren't even painted. He was ready for anything.

George's reaction was everything he could have hoped for and more. He backed off a pace once the teenager had freed himself to make sure he wasn't about to be tackled to the ground.
"Nah," he said, with an innocent shrug, "just felt like scaring you." While he had never really understood George's ambition to turn himself into a flamingo, he wasn't going to stop the boy. The nasty comments he had in the trophy room were ancient history to him and at the time he had actually been trying to insult the Hufflepuff. All things considered, it hadn't even been that good of an insult given how obvious the color of George's hair had been then.

Finnegan locked step with the teen and noticed that either George had grown, or he had shrunk. There had been a head's difference between them when they had first met, now it was more like a head and a half, or it would be if George hadn't been slouching and dragging his feet so much. "Uhuh," Finnegan said without really listening. While they walked, he bent down in an attempt to read the title of the book George was holding. Like a curtain of spaghetti his hair fell past his face, but he couldn't figure out the letters. When they arrived on the field, he gave up and flipped his overgrown hair back into place like he'd just stepped on the set of a shampoo commercial.

"You'll be fine," Finn answered, sounding sincere. "You're the captain for a reason." He half wished he would've actually been to one of George's races so he could say something more encouraging, but he'd never really felt the urge to go, not even for his own house. After all, there was this whole becoming a wizard thing that had been swallowing up most of his free time. "June's helping me- ooff!" George had a good kick in him, and though Finn managed to raise his hands to chest in defense, the ball still knocked the air out of him. For a split second he thought that George had kicked the ball so hard in a fit of pent-up anger, but he couldn't think of any reason why. He seemed fine, maybe just a little tired.

Pumping his legs, he chased after the ball before @George Henry could get to it and with a rainbow flick, whipped it up and over himself and brought it back under control. "June's helping me with charms," he continued while he bounced the ball between his feet with seeming ease. He lobbed the ball back in George's direction, an easy pass, straight into the teen's feet. "Alma's helping me with everything else, but she's a Hufflepuff, she can't help it." While he waited for he ball to be returned, be it with another violent kick or otherwise, he yapped on. "I like @June Selwyn, but I'm not sure she's really helping. Can't really concentrate, you know?" He put his hands on his hips while he waited. "What about you? Are you getting the hang of this whole wizard thing?" Evidently he wasn't or he would've found a solution to deal with the heat by now.

"You'll get yours," George said, a quiet promise of revenge. July was a long month, with plenty of time for machinations. Those old comments from the trophy room were a distant memory, overshadowed by the shame of letting poor little Finnegan get hurt. Plus, he didn't care all that much what eleven year olds thought about him in the long term.

He noted the interest in his book, but didn't bother explaining it. Finnegan had enough on his plate academically, and it wasn't like his unrefined mind had any place for philosophy. It was too full of footballs and grass. The older boy wrinkled his nose a bit as Finn flipped his hair around, wondering who he was trying to impress with those TV-worthy moves.

Despite not attending his races, George still appreciated the affirmation from his little buddy. "I guess so," he murmured. He must have had some chance of beating the heat and the Beauxbatons racers - he had won against 2/3rds of the other houses at Hogwarts.

There was a loud thud as the football slammed into poor Finnegan's chest. George's eyes went wide and he grimaced - "Sorry!" - he said, watching the younger lad for a few moments to gauge whether he would have to rush in with further apologies. Luckily, the little Welshman was a tough cookie, and just took the hit. No hard feelings behind it - he just was used to having to give his all in his sport. The more precise art of muggle sport had been lost to him. "I thought I'd have to hit it hard..."

Ugh. He'd picked himself up a bit, no longer slouching as he awaited the kick back from Finnegan. "Wow," he said, blinking as Finnegan used his fancy footwork to bring the ball back under control. "I guess quidditch makes good practice." The only skills George had learned in broom racing were spell control, which was quite useful, and how to blatch like an absolute bastard, which didn't transfer well.

"June is helping you with charms?" George said, sounding a bit skeptical. He didn't realize June was all that good at charms. He kicked the football upward, trying to bounce it on his foot, but failing and sending it sideways. Shamefully marching off to go grab it, he listened to Finnegan, piecing together its of the story as he spoke. "Alma is too sweet. She really can't help it... she's a proper Hufflepuff... why are you dressed like a proper Hufflepuff today? Trying to gain some favor with me?"

He dropped the ball and gave it a more dainty kick, leaning backward a bit and looking like he was doing some kind of karate move. It was less harsh than his first kick - actually catchable, and perhaps even a bit weak. "She can't concentrate, or you can't concentrate?" The tone in his voice and the sweet little smile on his face made it clear that this question was a trap - but unfortunately Finnegan had already trod too far. No going back. "I'm in fifth year, Finnegan, if I wasn't good at wizardry they'd've expelled me by now."

Finn made no attempt to hide the self-satisfied smirk that crept across his lips. "It's not that hard," he said, feigning disinterest in the compliment he'd been given, "I always had a ball at me feet." If that letter from Hogwarts hadn't arrived, he'd have spent all his free time on the pitch, dreaming of the big leagues. But then he would never have known about Quidditch and though he hated to admit it, it really was the better game. Football was good, but doing magic was better, if it did involve running around a castle with ghosts, gossiping paintings, grumpy bits of medieval armor, snobby prefects, vampires, and howlers (he'd sworn to himself to never tell his parents about those).

"Right enough, she helps me every week," he admitted without the faintest hint of embarassement. "I'm heaps better now, only I weren't very good to start with." He offered a shy smile at that. He would much rather be good at charms than keeping a ball up in the air, but somethings just never changed. Like George's habit to make an entirely predictable comment about the colors he was wearing. Finn rolled his eyes at the teenager. "Ugh, I knew you'd say that..." It came out sounding a bit more dramatic than he'd intended, like he'd just been denied playing Xbox by his mum, but it was the truth.

He caught George's next pass on his chest, brought the ball back under control and punted it straight back at the teenager, hard and low across the ground. "Actually," he continued, "if you've got any idea what June, what she, what she thinks of me..." his voice trailed off into sweet nothingness. Yet there was no shame on his face, no blush punctuating his question. For reasons he couldn't yet quite explain, he somehow trusted George not to make fun of him for asking. Maybe a bit of fun, just between the two of them, like friends, but nothing too embarrassing. Sometimes, George just felt like the older brother he wished he had. Someone who he could rely on to tell him what to do, someone he could trust without question. Perhaps they didn't always get along all the time, but there was no doubt in his mind that George would take any secrets he shared, any real secrets, seriously.

Finnegan's face glazed over and for a while he stared at some infinitesimal point in the distance, as if under spell. Only a good wizard could have made him shut up for that long, and only a great wizard could've made him feel safe enough to talk about the girl he fancied without remorse or trepidation. "You know her, right?" He still hadn't snapped out of his reverie completely, but the dreamy, unfocused look had begun to melt away. The ball had found its way back to his feet, but he was no longer thinking about playing. Besides, George was starting to look a little sweaty and Finn didn't want to risk being responsible for giving the Broom Racing Captain a heat stroke.

"I can't take no notice of nothing when I'm 'round her," he confessed while he led them toward the edge of the field where they could sit in the shade. "She's way pretty and nice, and patient, and I've been meaning to ask her out, but I can't." A felled tree offered a makeshift bench, though Finn elected to take a seat on his football instead, facing George. "I just- I just, can't! Maybe I really ought to be in Hufflepuff..." He dug his heel into the loose soil, messing it up before reaching down to pluck at the grass like he plucked at his thoughts. "It just never seems the right time to ask, and what if she says no? She probably doesn't even like me all that much," he concluded with a sigh.

He dragged his gaze up from the ground and looked straight at George. "I think I'm- I'm in love," he said with the same vigor as though he had just been diagnosed with some terrible disease. Nothing had made him feel quite so vulnerable before, not even when he had asked June out the autumn ball. "Help."

George gave his compliments more freely with the younger generation of students. They had so much potential - it was cruel to crush them. Not that any of his peers were any less impressive; simply because he did not want to give them any sort of fuel for ego. "Clearly," he agreed. But the subject of talents was nothing compared to that of love. Or, however close to love you could get in the mind of a twelve year old. George knew love - he knew it all too well.

"Is that so?" George stepped closer, the game falling by the wayside as he got closer to the Gryffindor. He smirked a bit as Finnegan admitted his lack of skill with charms. "There was a lot of room for improvement. Every bit helps." More of a jock than anything, this one - couldn't be helped, like Jack.

Predictable or no, his comment was true. Much like Finnegan's ineptitude with being a proper wizard, George had a natural proclivity toward commenting on people's appearance. "If other people paid as much attention to their outfits as I do, the world would be a better place," he argued. His commentary was not a compulsion - it was a duty! But one that was secondary to the juicy, juicy secret that Finnegan was telling him. He had suspected from the moment her name was mentioned, but the way Finnegan's voice trailed down into nothing was hard proof.

While Finnegan was staring off into the distance, George closed in, glancing over each shoulder to ensure no snooping was occurring. There seemed to be privacy, barring any invisibility cloaks in the vicinity. "Yes I know her," George blurted out, with an unspoken 'obviously'. His tone made it clear that he was eager to here what would come next. He considered mentioning how exactly he had met her, but that was a story for later.

The sweaty Hufflepuff looked entranced as Finnegan spoke about his feelings for June. There was the pride that came with being entrusted with such secret information as a crush, and also... it was pretty adorable to listen to how Finnegan described it. He thought back to when he was in his second year and felt a compulsion to put his hands into his pockets, feeling a little squirmy all of a sudden.

George followed closely, considering the young man's plight. She was pretty nice, and perhaps more patient with Finnegan than she had been with George. The older boy took a seat on the tree, folding his hands in his lap and straightening out his back to look proper and wise before he went extolling any wisdom upon the young lion.

"She probably won't be a very useful tutor then," George noted, scratching his chin. He shook his head slowly at Finnegan's claim that he couldn't ask the girl out. He certainly could. It would most certainly feel better for June if she knew she had the option... but perhaps George was only thinking that way due to some personal baggage with boys taking the initiative. "Awww... Finnegan, that's so sweet. But don't say anything about Hufflepuff, your boys are just as bad for asking people out..."

He let that comment stand on its own for a moment before he continued, letting out a soft sigh. "Probably so," George said, providing a second opinion for that grim diagnosis. Love at their age was dangerous, ugly, and absolutely irresistible. There was absolutely no way he would get in its way. "I think she probably likes you more than you'd think. She went to the ball with you, right? As a friend, or whatever, but nobody has ever actually gone to the ball as friends. I went with Jake to my first ball but you know what it wasn't? A date. You guys got dressed up and went together. That's basically..."

George gestured vaguely in the air. Whatever it was, it was probably a solid foundation. "But it'll never be the right time, anyway. And maybe she will say no. Better that you can go focus on your schoolwork if you find out she doesn't like you, maybe you can pass charms," he suggested. He took a deep breath, trying not to let his own qualms colour the advice he was giving... even if it was obvious that it came from experience. "Don't wait too long. Someone else will ask her. But don't rush either! Do something nice... hm..."

He paused for just a moment to consider Finnegan. He ought not to meddle. But he would, anyhow. "I'll go figure out what the situation is with her and let you know," he advised. "Then we'll see what you can do."

"Room for improvement?" Finn echoed back at George. "That's a nice way of putting it." Not that he was bothered, being awful at charms was what had afforded him so much time with @June Selwyn, and he'd keep making that trade even if it meant he'd become the laughing stock of the class.

Whenever he thought of telling June, a strange sensation would wash over him, not unlike the first time he had stepped into the Great Hall. Every prior difficulty of his life paled in comparison, every distress he had felt seemed minute in the face of this giant pit of uncertainty. First days at school, first days on the Quidditch pitch, final days of the school year, even summer days on camp with lack of proper supervision, he'd survived it all. But allowing himself to become so vulnerable, to let all of his touchy pride be crushed by a single rejection. The mere thought of it made him queasy. "She's not a bad teacher actually, I did finally get that levitation charm working."

The next thing George said caught him off guard. Not the part about boys, George had told him in no uncertain terms what his type was, but the way he delivered his comment about Gryffindor boys. The tone of disapproval, the deliberating pause afterwards. The insinuation that something unfortunate had happened was so obvious that Finn couldn't help but catch on to it. Yet he remained silent, sensing that George wasn't quite done handing out sagely advice just yet.

The ball beneath him squeaked in protest as he shifted his weight and leaned forward, listening with rapt attention. People always talked about love, sang about it, wrote books about it, put all those awful kissing scenes in the movies. They always left out the messy part. The bitter uncertainity, the pain of not knowing, or how thinking about the subject of his affections fogged his brain to the point of forgetting to eat. Maybe that was why he had barely grown. And now George had added another worry to the long list of concerns, what if he waited too long? What if someone else got to her first? In that regard, George was safe at least, he posed no threat, but the same could not be said for @Avery Leveret, or even @Maggie Hawkins. Any other friend of June's that wasn't outlandishly gay for boys had suddenly become suspect.

It was George's final suggestion that made him jump out of the swamp of worries he'd been wading through. "Don't do that!" He said, sounding alarmed. "She might suspect something's up, she'll figure it out and I'll look like a coward." With a jolt, Finnegan realized there was one piece of information George didn't yet know and it hadn't occured to him to mention it before. "She's coming over to my place this summer, just for a bit. I don't think you'll get to talk to her before she does. I think something's been bothering here though, she's been acting... strange."

He squinted his eyes at George, cocked his head sideways and observed the teenager with an inquisitive gaze. "Something's bothering you too, innit?" The distinct lack of hat was one clue, but there had been others. The slouching, the off-handed comment about Gryffindor boys being bad, his sudden heightened suspectibility to a bit of summer heat, his anxiety about the broom racing game... Finnegan put his elbows on his knees, cupped his hand and rested his chin in it. "What is it?"

"For you my kindness knows no limits," George informed Finnegan. The boy always caught him at the height of his mercy - something about his scrawny, Jake-like appearance rendered George's instincts inert. Where normally he would pounce at such signs of weakness, he was instead urged to nurture this poor, lovesick lion. Pitiful little fellow. The mention of the levitation charm made one of George's eyebrows rise, further evidence that the tutoring was working. "Is that so? Wow, she could certainly be good for you."

That his best friend Jack had stayed with his girlfriend Dee for so long was evidence that intelligent young women were well suited for managing those who had suffered too many blows to the head in broom sports. There was potential here in George's head, at least, though Finnegan was sure to continue erecting hurdles in front of his every step. Gryffindor boys - had to be heroes, so they kept making up their own challenges to overcome.

The harmless homosexual Hufflepuff reached out to give Finnegan a little pat-pat on the cheek to bring him back to attention as he saw those foggy eyes wandering back to thoughts of June and... whatever it was June had to offer. Very aerodynamic, and a sense of humor, maybe. "Aww," he said with a sigh, evaluating Finnegan's condition again. He couldn't resist a bit of teasing about it. "You are in love. It's so cuuuute..."

The older lad leaned back and stared at Finnegan, giving him a disapproving look at that sudden outburst at the suggestion that he begin his machinations of love. "Oh, she wouldn't, I'm good at lying," George assured him. He was a practicing liar. OWL in Fraudulence. But he understood that in matters of the heart, some caution was warranted, and George would never try to convince himself he was a predictable factor to add to the mix. "It's not cowardice, it's reconnaissance. That's spying, but in an elegant way. Wholly undetectable! Besides, it's not unlike me to discuss matters of the heart-.."

He'd given himself away just in time for Finnegan to start picking up the scent of his weakness. He hadn't been enjoying the kind of cloudy, head-swimming love that Finnegan was. His was more like picking apart a tangled wire, or getting his clothes caught on every piece of furniture. It was incessant, demanding, and made him question why he had sought it in the first place. Before Finnegan could pounce, he made a comment on the reveal of their summer plans. "The French call that a scandal. And what do you mean strange? Like... strange how?"

Was she digging holes? No, better not ask. He'd put the paranoia in Finn's head again. "...Perhaps," George said, not doing well to prove his prowess in deception. He straightened his back again, hands on his knees, looking perfectly natural. Such an easygoing demeanor could only be fabricated coming from George. "It's... just... I've not been liking how things are going with my boyfriend. I kissed him, but I sort of wish I didn't, and he's only around sometimes cos he's going to Durmstrang, and it's made things awkward with some of your housemates... He trailed off.

Finnegan rolled his eyes after he tried to swat George's hand out of his face. "Oh shut up," he grumbled, though he wasn't all that bothered. He'd learned that George simply got a kick out of teasing him or treating him like some adorable, harmless cub that was just there to be patted. Resistance was utterly futile, the teenager always managed to find a way to push his buttons regardless. Better to just roll with the punches, let him have his giggles and not take it so seriously.

"You're good at lying?" Finnegan raised a single eyebrow at his friend and scoffed a little. He couldn't recall the last convincing lie George had told him, but perhaps that was the point. Still, while there was no dount that George was a wizard of many abilities, Finnegan didn't think deception was prime among them. If anything, he imagined George would be all to happy to spend an entire day trading gossip with whatever poor boy he'd laid eyes on that day.

The topic of his affections for June was thankfully set aside as their conversation shifted gears. He never answered the question why he thought June had been acting strange, it was hard to describe and the things George brought up were far more interesting anyway.

"You kissed who?" He lowered his voice a little, even though there was no one within earshot. At times Finnegan had had a vague sense of who George's latest beau was, but he completely lost track during the second half of the year. Keeping up quite the challenge, even for George it would seem. "How'd it go?" Not so great apparently. Another worry for his growing list of things that could go disastrously wrong. He couldn't imagine it had been the kiss itself that had caused trouble. After all, everything he knew about kissing made it seem like the singular most important, most amazing thing a human got to do in life.

"Oh. Ooohhhhh, I get it," Finnegan said, nodding sagely. A grin appeared on his face that he couldn't quite get rid of, despite his best attempts. "You cheated on one of them? George..." he was grinning now, both fascinated, repulsed, and above all impressed, "just how many boyfriends do you have right now?" There were only so many boys in Gryffindor that fell within George's criteria so it wasn't entirely inconceivable that he had been lovers with several of them. "I'd stick with a Gryffindor if I were you, isn't Durmstrang where loads of dark wizards are from?"

Was he good at lying? George winked, whatever that meant. Interpretation was left as an exercise for the beholder. Finnegan's interpretation was mostly correct - his deceptions mostly came out of nowhere, even to him, and he much preferred spreading truths in secret than spreading lies publicly. However, perhaps this truth was a bit close to home. Finnegan was armed with dangerous knowledge the moment George admitted he had kissed Felix.

He always imagined his first kiss would be a fairy-tale moment, but... it was just kind of gross. And although Felix was not a student of Beauxbatons, he studied the French school of kissing, which was a lot more disgusting than normal kissing. But Felix had been very sweet, and it wasn't like he didn't want to kiss the silver-haired boy... he just wanted it before it happened, and then not after. He regretted it. That couldn't be how true love felt.

The older boy got lost in his own head for a moment, wondering how Felix felt. Maybe he could tell George was getting cold feet and that was why he'd been so distant. Ugh. Hearts were so much more complicated when you brought them close together.

That far away, melancholy look only lasted for a moment as all those feelings tossed around in his head. "Felix Kolbeck," George mumbled. "He's one of the Durmstrang Hexwizard team-ers. I met him after the chess challenge. We exchanged letters." A calm collection of facts, impartial analysis which carefully dodged all the feelings that had knit him together with that Kolbeck.

"I didn't really like it... it was too much," he admitted. His heart was a bit more ambitious than his head was ready for. He wished he was able to see his mother for a bit longer before camp. She would have been able to sort out whatever was happening in his chest right now. For a moment, his mouth opened, but he didn't continue. He just shrugged.

The elder boy furrowed his brow when Finnegan said he got it. No, he couldn't have, George thought - and if he did get it, he certainly wouldn't be smiling. "What?!" George near yelled at the boy. Had he been cheating? No! He was a Hufflepuff through and through, and beyond that, he just wasn't like that. Felix was his boyfriend, alright. He just wasn't overly thrilled about the arrangement, the more time went on.

He couldn't bear to look at Finnegan if he truly thought so little of him. He turned his head away, his fingernails pressing into his knees, scratching white lines across the skin as he resisted the overwhelming urge to summon a bouquet to beat him senseless with. Approximately ten seconds passed, the sound of his quiet breathing matching with the breeze, before he turned back to look at Finnegan.

"About as soon as I made things official with Felix, another boy asked me on a date - but I didn't realize it was a date, I didn't even know he fancied boys, let alone me - and that happened, like, twice!" Alan liking him was a bit more obvious, but Hugh did come out of nowhere with it. Sure, they'd had a tender moment, but he didn't know it was that meaningful to him! "I have one boyfriend, for now. I'm thinking about going to zero. Then moving to a deserted island to be rid of them forever."