“You know,” Maggie started, then paused. She was laying at George’s feet on the rug in front of the fireplace in Gryffindor tower, working on her Potions essay. George was sat with his eyes closed on the sofa, Fred sprawled out and dozing lightly next to him; they were tired out from the reversal on their beards Madame Pomfrey had done earlier in the day. George opened his eyes at the sound of her voice; she was on her side, facing him, chewing at her lip. Priya Taja was laying a few feet away, scribbling away on a long sheet of parchment, Potions text propped open; they had been sharing, working quietly together. Maggie glanced at Priya - whose hair had fallen over her shoulder, forming a curtain between them - before sitting up and scooting closer. She placed her hands on George’s knees, resting her chin atop them and smiling up at him. “I just,” she started again, and George raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “Well,” she settled on finally, looking up at him innocently through her lashes, “I quite liked you with a beard.”
George felt the wide grin form on his face immediately, and he tipped his head back against the cushions, laughing quietly and shaking his head. “Woman, you are incorrigible,” he told her fondly, reaching down to tangle an affectionate hand in her hair and letting his eyes fall closed again. He massaged at her scalp with his fingertips, stroking gently. He didn’t see her sigh of contentment, or the way she let her own eyes fall closed, cheek atop his knee.