| Inked | (George Weasley)

Chapter Seventy-Four

Things could not be more awkward.

Olive and George were seated inside the Three Broomsticks, each sipping a much of warm butterbeer in a booth by the fire. While each other's company didn't seem to be all that weird or awkward, the environment around them was.

The entire pub was decorated for Valentine's Day, and every available table was filled with couples canoodling and snogging nonstop.

While Olive and George have kissed... a few times, actually... the pressure of seeing so many couples around them on a weekend before bloody Valentine's Day created a weird tension between the two sixth years.

"So," Olive was kneading her hands together so much that George thought they were going to transfigure into bread dough, "The Second Task is soon?"

The ginger nodded, "Yeah, just about two weeks, give or take."

"Any ideas on what it's going to be?"

"Not a clue." George said between sips of butterbeer, "You?"

"No... there has been a lot of Ministry staff around the Black Lake recently." Olive anxiously glanced at the tables next to theirs, feeling as if there were several pairs of eyes watching them. She could have sworn she saw Natalie or Cho...

"Really?"

The Ravenclaw nodded, swirling the butterbeer around in her mug. She sipped it slowly, her stomach slightly uneasy at the memory of Nat's seventeenth birthday party a few months ago. Remembering the dizziness and nausea she felt the next morning, she subtly slid her mug away from her.

"That sounds... cool." George noted, sending a sideways glance at the scenery around them. It was obvious that both of them were uncomfortable, though neither Ollie or George seemed to know what to do about it.

Olive bit her lip, her heart practically pounding in her ears. Her cheeks and ears were tinted slightly red, the color threatening to creep into her hair every time another couple in one of the tables next to them decided to start snogging.

She had been looking forward to her date with George, but with all of this romantic scenery, it was not playing out exactly how she wanted. There was an unspoken pressure slumped on her shoulders, telling her she needed to act like every other girl canoodling and giggling over their date... but she didn't want to. Not in that way, at least. She liked George, and every time their eyes met and he said something even slightly flirtatious she got that urge to kiss him like she did at the Yule Ball.

Sitting at a table with a frilly pink table cloth was making that urge go away.

Suddenly, George put down his butterbeer, looking around him as if he was watching a very bad quidditch game.

"Alright," He said, "Is it just me, or is this place too..."

"Yeah." Olive nodded, "It is."

The ginger ran a hand through his hair with a nervous laugh, "I did not expect even the Three Broomsticks to go all out for Valentine's Day. They're usually pretty mellow about this stuff."

"Usually." She fixed her gaze on him, "Obviously not this year."

George nodded, "Yeah, I definitely chose the wrong weekend for this. Everything's so... lovey... and I don't want you to feel pressured, or-"

"Hey," Olive reached across the table, putting her hand over his to try and rid him of his dejected look, "Didn't you say you had some sort of surprise?"

His brows unknitted themselves as the Ravenclaw's words reminded him of what he had planned. That usual kind but mischievous smirk was once again on George's lips. Ollie felt some sort of triumph for being able to make him smile, her heart warming, eyes beaming.