Carrot Top

Light poured in through the big stained windows of the medical bay, the light shining with a silver glow. Your eyes fluttered open and you felt a weight by your side. George's head was flopped on the side of your lap, his arms supporting his face. Orange locks framed his face as he slept and you couldn't help but notice each little freckle on his face. In this moment, you took a chance to get a good look at him. His face was cascaded in freckles, his eyebrows were just slightly browner than his hair and his lips were the same shade of pink as a peony in spring. He looked... handsome.

Just as you had your concluding thought he began to stir. "Mornin carrot top." You giggled lightly as he sat up, covering your mouth with a hand. "Morning..." George grumbled, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "You need to get to class George." He rolled his eyes at you but stood to leave regardless. "I'll see you later then." Giving you one last smile he dashed out of the hall to get ready for first period.

A few minutes later Madame Pompfrey entered the medical bay and stood by your bed. "Morning love, drink up." She spooned you more of the nasty drink, smiling as your face twisted in disgust. "How long until my ankle is okay?" You gurgled out, the taste still on your tongue. "A week give or take. I'll be back each morning to check on you." She gave you a small smile before exiting the hall. "Wait! What am I meant to do here all week?" You called out, but she had already left. "I'm here to tell you just that, Ms Tonks." Professor McGonagall walked in, making her way over to your little bed.

"Now, Madame Pompfrey has alerted me of your condition. I'll be giving Mr Weasley your class work as you share the most classes and you'll be expected to turn it in when you recover." She gave you a kind smile, patting your hand. "But, this means I'll miss the trip to Hogsmeade on Saturday!" Giving her a defeated look you whined. "Yes Ms Tonks, but your recovery is much more important. Just be glad you won't miss the Yule Ball." As she spoke she gave you some sort of knowing look, as if she was holding back a secret. "Practice begins this week, I'll have Mr Weasley fill you in." The knowing look spread from her eyes to the rest of her face, she knew something you didn't. 

"Thank you, professor. I'll see you next week I suppose." With that Professor McGonagall went to exit the medical bay. "But hey wait! What am I meant to eat?" Coincidentally your stomach growled as well, agreeing with your words. She didn't turn around, but as you followed her figure out of the hall a metal tray filled with pancakes appeared by your bedside. "Thank you!" Cupping your hands to your mouth you bellowed, hoping she had heard. With a popping sound a cup of hot cocoa also appeared by your bed "Guess she heard me after all..."

--

Students began filling the halls, all heading to the great hall for lunch. All of them except one. Carrying twice as many books as he normally did, George made his way over to the medical bay. "Tonks, this is a load of rubbish. I do not see why I have to carry all of this." The books came down onto your bedside table with a thump, George rolled out his shoulder with a groan. "Jeez, thank you carrot top." Rolling your eyes you crossed both arms and relaxed back into your pillow. "Okay so McGonagall told me everything, only homework so far is an essay from Snape." He sat down in the chair next to your bed, showing you a little scrap of parchment he'd written it on. "Alright, guess I'll start with that."

"Godric, I cannot believe I have to miss the trip to Hogsmeade! Ange and I were so excited." Throwing your hands up in the air you began to pout, very annoyed by this broken ankle business. "Any reason you wanted to go so bad?" George asked, taking a bite out of the sandwich that had appeared for you. With a poof sound, another sandwich appeared, presumably for George. "We were going to look at dresses for the ball, Ange wants the perfect one to impress your brother." The thought of it made you smile, your best friend at the ball in a beautiful gown, dancing the night away with a boy she liked. You couldn't help but want to feel happy for her, a real live princess. 

"He'll like her in anything, or at least he should. Big sod." George huffed a laugh, devouring both sandwiches. Comically, a third sandwich appeared. "Don't you dare Weasley, give me that." You snatched the pieces of bread off the plate giving him a nasty look. "You're right, he will like her in anything. But I know where she's coming from. She just wants it to be how she wants." Nibbling at your lunch you dazed off slightly, thinking of your own dress. "What about you though? Got something in mind?" You could feel him looking at you as he asked, intrigued by your notion of the perfect dress. "No, not yet at least. That's exactly what this weekend was for!" Thinking of it made you wince once again. 

"I'll get you something from Honeydukes." He almost said it like it was a question, as if he should ask if he could do something like that for you. "Really? You don't have to do that George it's okay." As you looked at him his heart beat began to race. You didn't call him George all that often, and that beautiful smile on your lips was making things even worse. He began to nod, his brain not keeping up with his body. "No no, I will. It's kind of my fault with your ankle and all." George's ears felt hot and you too felt yourself blushing at the prospect. 

"I like rocky road, if you want to get me something." Looking away from him you smiled softly, why did he care so much? Was it just guilt? "Noted, I'll come back later with the rest of your work. Oh and McGonagall mentioned something about teaching you to dance?" He began packing up his things, looking at you in confusion as he mentioned the dancing. Letting out a light chuckle you met his eyes again, "I think that's this period actually. Do have fun George." Sending him a wink you let the words drip with sarcasm, dancing practice, what a fluke.

He shot back a wink of his own before walking out of the medical bay and off to his next class.

--

After a few hours you had finally finished Snape's essay, having no other work to do and no visitors didn't give you much of a choice. Foot steps once again echoed the hall, signaling the end of classes for the day. Unexpectedly a whole group of people made their way into the hall. "Y/N!" Angelina called out, running to your side and pulling you into a hug. "Are you okay? George only told us what happened at lunch!" She checked over your face the same way your mother would, examining to see if you were hurt anywhere else. "I'm fine Angelina." You gave her a soft punch to the shoulder, signaling her to stop worrying. Now you were able to take in everyone in front of you. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and Angelina were all surrounding your small bed.

"Guys, you didn't have to come. It's just my ankle." You looked around the room at all the smiling faces, happy that your friends were here to see you. "Of course Y/N." Ginny beamed, leaning on the edge of your bed. "We hear that Georgie's gonna be taking care of you." Fred said with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, both arms folded in a cocksure sort of way. "Ah, yes. McGonagall's making him." Sort of embarrassed you looked away, you didn't want to burden him at all. "Are you sure she's making him do it? I'd say he's just fine." Fred gave Harry a little nudge and the pair shared that same look McGonagall had earlier in the morning.

"Where is George anyway?" Hermione chirped in, saving you from the awkwardness of that potential conversation. "Probably carrying all one thousand of Tonks' books." Ron chuffed beneath his breath, earning a shove from Hermione followed by a very stern look. "I think it's sweet Y/N, helping you with your school work." Hermione gave you a smile, dragging Harry and Ron out of the hall, presumably to chastise Ron. "Get better soon Tonks!" Harry called out, following Hermione to Ron's death.

"Ange I'm so sorry, I can't come to Hogsmeade with you. My ankle will still be broken." Taking her hand in your own you gave her a sorry smile. "Nonsense, I want you to get better. Besides, I'm sure Ginny here wouldn't mind coming in your place." The redheaded girl shot up when the words finally processed, "Oh can I! Can I really!" Ginny beamed. Angelina gave her a quick nod, the pair rejoicing at their saved weekend plans. "Then it's settled, we can go the weekend after." You stated, happy that Angelina would still get to pick out her dress this weekend, saving her from any last minute stress. 

"Fred and I are going to study, I'll come back tomorrow with any news." Angelina took Fred's hand in hers and turned to leave. "You too ginger." Fred shrugged past Ginny, teasing her for how excited she was over this weekend. Finally the hall cleared and it was just you and your books.

For about thirty seconds.

George made his way in, carrying even more books than this morning. "Right. I went to Angelina and she got me everything, because I am not bringing you a book every single day. These things are heavy woman." Once again he placed the stacks of books onto your bedside table. He eased back into his chair, bringing it forward to sit closer to you. "Any more work?" You eyed up the books he had brought, it really was everything you'd need. "Yeah, I wrote it down." He handed you another loose piece of parchment, you put it on your bedside table, not wanting to think about it right now.

"So, tell me. Dancing." You sat up further on the bed, propping your hand under your chin and giving him an eyebrow raise. "Merlin's beard, you should've seen it, Ron had to dance with McGonagall." He put a hand to his forehead and started cackling. "Ballroom dancing?" Leaning towards him with intrigue, you pictured McGonagall and Ron slow dancing romantically. George nodded, still wheezing the remains of a laugh. "Fred and Angelina practiced together, both a bunch of gits if you ask me." "You're just jealous and you know it. He's your brother be happy for him." You gave him a sympathetic look, shrugging off the comment. "Sure I am." He rolled his eyes and looked down at his feet.

"Who did you dance with?" It happened so quickly you couldn't stop it, you asked who George danced with. It wasn't a very interesting question but you felt your face heat and you could hear your heartbeat. Part of you didn't want him to answer, but the stronger part had to know. "Some girl from Ron's year ran over and asked me to dance, so I did." He looked back at you, hesitant to give you that answer. "You don't know her? Not even her name?" Relief washed over you, you couldn't explain why but it did. He shook his head softly before looking back at you. "McGonagall told me I have to teach you." He was looking at you, looking for something to tell him how you felt.

Your eyes widened and the hair on your neck stood up so straight you might as well have been struck by lightning. "But how? My ankle is the whole reason I'm here." Something inside you saddened, something that told you that you did want to dance with George. "Here, I have a plan." He stood up and offered you his hand, cautiously you slid out of the bed with one foot hovering off the ground. "Place your foot on mine." He supported your weight as you placed your foot on his shoes, your damaged foot just hanging in the air. 

George wrapped an arm around your waist and put the other behind your back for support. Your skin tingled at the contact, your bodies so close. His breath fanned your face as your noses nearly touched. Placing your arms around his neck he began to sway, "1..2..3.. And 1..2..3.." Both of you danced around the room, George doing the brunt of the work. He spun you around, keeping you held firm against him. Both of you giggled like kids as you shared the beautiful moment, not a care in the world between you. As he was moving you looked up at his face, the way his hair fell and framed his jaw, how his nose was spattered with light glowing freckles. The way his eyes shon when they looked back at you, oh my god. He was looking back at you.

"Y/N?" He had stopped moving, but you were still in his arms. He wasn't letting you go. Suddenly all of your doubts rushed in at once, every thought clouding your mind. "George I- You-" The words struggled to come out with your mind going a mile a minute. "You shouldn't be here if you don't want to be, I won't ask you to pamper me." You rest your forehead against his shoulders, feeling a tear prick at your eyelids. "No- Y/N- That's not why I'm here. I want to be, I don't want you to be alone..." He placed a hand on the back of your head, pulling you into an embrace. Sniffling lightly against his school cloak you let yourself smile, he wanted to be here? With you? 

Pop! 

A dinner tray with two forks appeared on the bed, apparently out of space considering all the books on your small table. "Come on, you should eat." He walked you both back to your bed, placing you down beside the silver tray. You passed him one of the plates of food and his own fork, whoever was sending the food knew he was with you, McGonagall knew. Silence lingered, you didn't want to talk about it and he knew that. "Go back to your common room, I know you didn't have time to shower this morning." You took George's plate back and gave him a motherly look. 

"Yes, yes, fine mother goose. I'll come back tomorrow before we go to Hogsmeade." He lingered by your bed, he didn't want to leave your side. "Go carrot top, I'll be just fine." With that you watched him walk away. Just before he left he turned, both of you making eye contact. "Goodnight Tonks." "Goodnight Weasley."