George was as glad as anyone to see their school day finally over. There was only so long he could manage to keep his head from spiralling over the morning's headline until it became ingrained in his brain, word for word. It wasn't as if it was only his family who'd willfully taken part in the two most recent Wizarding Wars, voluntarily murdering muggles and wizards alike; Theo's continuing bigoted options weren't helping George's case.
He followed along behind Sadie with a handful of pastries he'd quickly taken from the Great Hall: pumpkin pie, sausage rolls, and a traditionally sized Cornish Pasty. Tonight would just be the three of them, at least until time grew too late.
"Quidditch is great, normally," George added to the two's current discussion. "I'm not looking forward to the next three years of Quidditch here, mind you. Friendly competition is one matter, but I don't think things are going to be friendly." He passed a tiny chuckle as he spoke. Round Two of the Battle of the Brothers rang low on his list of events he wished to revisit.
"Quidditch is fantastic! I still can't believe you don't like it. The season has already started and you’ll see your brother play in a few weeks; you'll be a fan before too long!" Seine continued with his family smile, wide and genuine.
"Did you follow any muggle sports?" George pulled his robes from his shoulders and laid the collection on the fabric between them. "Don't muggles have lots of sports? I remember seeing one in a pub once where the players were throwing tiny sticks at a target. All the crowd seemed so serious, it was incredibly daft." It was the first time all day his tone hadn't sounded entirely defeatist. "I just don't get it, a lot of muggle things don't make sense." He even managed a chuckle.
"Wait, what were they doing?" Seine asked with a snort of utter confusion.
"These men were dressed in waistcoats and were tiny sticks-" He paused and motioned the throwing of a dart. "against this huge target, covered in numbers. There was another target in the pub itself since most of the muggles were watching it on a rectangle." George fumbled over his words. His childhood might have been far from sheltered in terms of the Wizarding World but George had little knowledge when it came to the world of Muggles. "It really weird, the sport, not the rectangle, paintings have moved for years."
Siene cracked a grin behind his hand and soon found himself roaring with laughter, much to the confusion of his friend. George glanced at Sadie and Seine with panic and bewilderment plastered on his face. His skin shifted in tone, rolling from pale to an uncomfortable red hue.
"I'll let you explain this one, Sadie."
He followed along behind Sadie with a handful of pastries he'd quickly taken from the Great Hall: pumpkin pie, sausage rolls, and a traditionally sized Cornish Pasty. Tonight would just be the three of them, at least until time grew too late.
"Quidditch is great, normally," George added to the two's current discussion. "I'm not looking forward to the next three years of Quidditch here, mind you. Friendly competition is one matter, but I don't think things are going to be friendly." He passed a tiny chuckle as he spoke. Round Two of the Battle of the Brothers rang low on his list of events he wished to revisit.
"Quidditch is fantastic! I still can't believe you don't like it. The season has already started and you’ll see your brother play in a few weeks; you'll be a fan before too long!" Seine continued with his family smile, wide and genuine.
"Did you follow any muggle sports?" George pulled his robes from his shoulders and laid the collection on the fabric between them. "Don't muggles have lots of sports? I remember seeing one in a pub once where the players were throwing tiny sticks at a target. All the crowd seemed so serious, it was incredibly daft." It was the first time all day his tone hadn't sounded entirely defeatist. "I just don't get it, a lot of muggle things don't make sense." He even managed a chuckle.
"Wait, what were they doing?" Seine asked with a snort of utter confusion.
"These men were dressed in waistcoats and were tiny sticks-" He paused and motioned the throwing of a dart. "against this huge target, covered in numbers. There was another target in the pub itself since most of the muggles were watching it on a rectangle." George fumbled over his words. His childhood might have been far from sheltered in terms of the Wizarding World but George had little knowledge when it came to the world of Muggles. "It really weird, the sport, not the rectangle, paintings have moved for years."
Siene cracked a grin behind his hand and soon found himself roaring with laughter, much to the confusion of his friend. George glanced at Sadie and Seine with panic and bewilderment plastered on his face. His skin shifted in tone, rolling from pale to an uncomfortable red hue.
"I'll let you explain this one, Sadie."