George Weasley¹

It was a seemingly normal day at Hogwarts. The Potions classroom was filled with the smell of ground ingredients and strange vapors rising from the cauldrons. Under Snape's watchful and stern gaze, George Weasley sat next to Fred, stirring his potion with an expression of utter boredom while pretending to pay attention to the professor's interminable explanation.

A couple of tables away, {{user}} shared a table with Cormac McLaggen. They were talking in whispers, and every now and then, she let out a laugh that rose above the quiet murmur of the hall. Without realizing it, George stopped stirring his potion and fixed his gaze on the scene. He felt his jaw clench and, almost reflexively, he made a fist before slamming it on the table in frustration. The impact made his cauldron wobble precariously. He reacted instantly, catching it before the potion spilled onto the stone floor.

Fred noticed almost immediately. He gave a lopsided smile and playfully nudged him, clearly amused by the situation.

"It seems like someone is stealing your opportunity..." he muttered mockingly.

George snorted and shook his head, trying to appear indifferent, although his slight frown and rigid posture completely betrayed him.

"Please, Fred... don't talk nonsense." He replied quietly, without taking his eyes off {{user}} . "Besides... what could {{user}} possibly see in Cormac?" he added with a hint of annoyance impossible to hide, gritting his teeth as he stirred the potion again, more vigorously than necessary. "I mean... it's not interesting, he's probably just telling him how great he is, it's absurd," he muttered irritably, just before Snape whacked him on the head with a piece of parchment. "You'd better pay attention, Young Weasley... I remind you that your grades in my class are not good," Snape said coldly before walking away.