Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes was almost vacant that morning, apart from just two occupants, and one of them watched the other in open fondness. George didn’t know what it was about Luna that made him want to watch her do the craziest of things with a smile on his face. He had always seen her at Hogwarts as Loony Lovegood — he had made of fun of her along with the others, even — but now that was all behind him. All he knew was that she was the one person who didn’t look at him with sympathy in her eyes, because for her, he was just George — not the forlorn George who had lost his twin brother. He had grown tired of being pitied by everyone and being told how he should get on with his life. It was not as easy as slicing bread, the way Mum made it sound. He had stopped hanging around The Burrow completely — he didn’t like the miserable glances he received every time he was there. To avoid them, he had decided to spend all his time at the shop and his apartment at Diagon Alley
He couldn’t even say that he had grown used to being alone, because he hadn’t. Without Fred, nothing was the same; he wasn’t the same. He had lost confidence in his own abilities because he knew whatever he had done all his life, he had done it with his twin. Now that he was alone, he wasn’t sure he could do anything himself. He had found company in the most unlikely of people, and it didn’t matter if George forgot to have breakfast or clean his apartment every morning, as long as he was downstairs in time to watch Luna Lovegood gaping in awe at the objects on display at his shop.
–Did you help out your dad again today?†George asked, breaking the silence. –You arrived a bit later than you normally do — was there a lot to do?â€
–Yes, there was this article I had to proofread, and that took up a lot of time,†Luna answered, inspecting the Patented Daydream Charms. –What are these?â€
George’s eyes became wide in alarm — Luna wasn’t really in need of one of those. She was always daydreaming anyway, and the thought of her daydreaming more didn’t strike him as healthy.
–Nothing, really,†he answered, hesitantly. –These aren’t very popular.â€
–Oh, all right,†Luna whispered, nodding her head.
As he watched her playing with the Pygmy Puffs cheerfully, he wondered why he hadn’t got to know her earlier. Spending time with her was like reading one of those wizard mysteries — you just never knew what you were going to get.
–They are really adorable,†she said, a bemused expression on her face as she gaped at the line of Pygmy Puffs on the shelf.
George just watched as she stroked each one of them playfully, and her amazed expression only made her seem more intriguing to him. She was innocent, very much so, and he admired her for it. It felt rather strange that he was admitting how much he liked Luna. He wondered how much ridicule he might have to endure if Ron heard him saying he was fond of Luna or if he even found out that for the past one month, he had spent each day with Luna, whereas he had refused invitations to several three-a-side Quidditch matches, claiming to be really busy with the shop.
–I think you'd better take this one home today,†George suggested as he pointed at one of the pale green Pygmy Puffs right in front of him.
George chose a Pygmy Puff for her to take home every time she visited, and it had almost become a ritual now. The new additions to his list of items never interested Luna as much as the adorable Pygmy Puffs did — she spent a greater portion of her visits amusing herself with the fluffy creatures.
–I already have twenty-five of them,†Luna said as she appeared to be deep in thought. –I don’t think I should take any more. Twenty-six would bring twice as much ill fortune.â€
George smiled at her revelation, shaking his head. –Take two then, so you’ll have twenty-seven and no ill fortune.â€
–That’s a splendid thought,†she said in a rather pleased tone. –I wonder why I didn’t think of it. I think I’ll take this periwinkle blue one along with the pale green.â€
–I never asked … but I’m curious,†George began uncertainly. –What do you do after you take them home?â€
–I take care of them,†she said simply, as though that was the most obvious answer. –I make clothes for them and I decorate their home.â€
–That’s very sweet of you,†he commented, trying to keep himself from laughing. –It would be nice to see how they look with the clothes on.â€
–They look even more adorable,†she said, delighted. –You can come to my house and visit them. I put Gurdyroots in the house I built for them so that they’ll always be safe, you know.â€
George was amazed by what he had just discovered — he had hardly expected to receive such an interesting reply. He smiled as he imagined her making clothes for the Pygmy Puffs; she was odd, certainly, but she was not insane, as everyone liked to think. And he had begun to realise she seemed to make perfect sense to him in every way.
–It’s almost time for lunch,†George said as he checked the clock on the wall. –How about we skip the walk today and go somewhere to eat instead?â€
George usually walked her back to her dad’s office in the smallest and most unnoticeable corner of Diagon Alley, after she had caressed and patted the Pygmy Puffs enough, but today he had been overcome by the sudden urge to have an early lunch.
–Oh, but I don’t think I feel too hungry yet,†she said, looking rather disappointed.
–That’s okay,†he whispered, ushering her out through the door. –We won’t really be eating too much anyway.â€
On the first day, when he’d run into her at Diagon Alley and she told him she had never seen a joke shop, he had immediately brought her to Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. After that she visited frequently and spent time looking at the objects on display in awe and asking him rather amusing questions. He had never known her closely before, and she may have been odd compared to others, but she never made him feel as though he was in a pitiable state. As long as she was in the shop, he could talk and laugh at her odd revelations and, for a few moments, he didn’t have to feel so helpless as he usually did. She had arrived rather late today, unlike the other days, and by the time they were discussing Pygmy Puffs, George had already started to feel hungry, and that was partly because he had skipped breakfast in the morning.
A few minutes later, they stood outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. It had been reopened some time back by his elder son, and was doing quite good business with an expanded range of flavours. He looked at Luna and saw her staring vaguely at the tables and the people cheerfully having their ice creams on a bright sunny day in July. Having ice cream for lunch wasn’t very healthy, and it wasn’t possible to have a lot of it, so George was sure he had kept his word that they wouldn’t be eating too much, since Luna didn’t appear to be very hungry. As George looked around, he realised the day was just perfect for ice cream.
–I’ve not been here before,†Luna observed calmly.
George nodded without really catching what she said, as he directed Luna to one of the tables a little farther away from the street and commotion. She sat down, and for the first time since they got there, he saw delight shining in her eyes.
–You don’t find it insane, do you?†George asked reluctantly. –Ice cream isn’t really lunch but —â€
–I find it rather marvellous,†Luna interjected. –And I’ve always wanted to try ice cream. But Daddy couldn’t bring me here because he was always really busy.â€
–You mean you’ve never had ice cream?†George gasped in shock.
He knew there were a lot of things unusual about Luna, but he could have never imagined that she was unfamiliar with something as common as ice cream. He found it very difficult to believe.
–I did want to but — †Luna tried to explain as a thoughtful expression came across her face.
–Outrageous!†George exclaimed in disbelief. –If you had told me before, I would have been bringing you here every day. You have missed out on so much ice cream all your life!â€
–Have I?†Luna asked simply.
–Yes, you have,†he replied, getting up on his feet. –We need ice cream — fast! I’ll be back soon.â€
As he began walking towards the counter, George still couldn’t believe anyone could have gone seventeen years without ice cream. But then, he realised, Luna wasn’t conventional in any way, so he shouldn’t be so surprised. He grabbed hold of as many different flavours as his hands could take, threw in the Galleons, and staggered past the staring witches and wizards to their table. He must have looked rather odd with both hands full of various flavoured ice cream.
–You’re back,†she said in her usual dreamy voice. –Are we supposed to have all that ice cream at the same time? That’s amazing.â€
–Not we — just you,†George corrected her. –You need to have all of this.â€
He was sure she wouldn’t complain, and as he searched her face, he couldn’t trace any disturbance or complaint. On most occasions, it was rather difficult to read her mind because she always appeared to be engrossed in her own world, but sometimes she got out of that and when he looked at her at eyes, he could easily interpret their expression. Having studied her all these days, George was getting better at that.
–There are so many colours,†Luna said, looking rather puzzled. –Which one should I pick?â€
George smiled at her sincere question. –Uhh — well, you don’t pick by colours. You choose the flavour.â€
–I like this yellow one,†Luna said brightly. She took the pale yellow sundae from his hand.
–I don’t know what that is,†George said. –Could be egg-flavoured for all I know. Why don’t you try the vanilla or the chocolate instead?â€
Florean Fortescue’s had been going overboard with the ‘exciting new flavours’ idea. George once had to endure a tomato-flavoured ice cream and for weeks he had refrained from coming here in frustration. Only Bertie Bott’s had the liberty to be that freaky.
–No, I want the yellow one,†Luna insisted. –I’ve had vanilla and chocolate cake many times. I’d like to try this; it looks nice.â€
–As you wish,†George said, laughing in amazement.
George wanted to tell her ice cream had more to do with taste than appearance but he decided against it. He watched keenly as Luna happily took a spoonful of her sundae, hoping it was a regular flavour and nothing crazy.
–It’s pineapple,†Luna declared finally. –You should have it too. Didn’t I say yellow would be great?â€
–Yeah, you did,†George said, relieved and pleased that it wasn’t something outlandish. –I’ll try this caramel sundae. You should go for the pistachio — it’s my favourite. I used to demand one every time we came to Diagon Alley when I was a kid.â€
–I like how you talk all the time while we’re eating,†she observed quietly. –It makes eating much less dull. I always eat with Daddy and he doesn’t talk as much as you do.â€
–You haven’t seen me ramble yet,†George warned her, laughing. –I can go on and on and no one can make me stop. I can be so annoying, especially if you’re Percy and you've fallen in love with your head boy’s badge. â€
–Can you fall in love with a badge?†Luna asked, puzzled.. –Oh, I guess that’s not impossible.â€
–Yeah, it’s very possible for Percival,†George said in mock seriousness. –Fred and I loved to see him express his love for it. We stole that shiny badge from his table right under his nose! He was in tears, the poor Head Boy.â€
Luna began to laugh and she was rather loud at the beginning. A few of the witches and wizards at the neighbouring tables stared incredulously at them. George just watched her laugh with increasing amazement.
–That was funny,†she said, snickering.
He had no idea why she found him so hilarious because he was sure he hadn’t been anywhere close to his old hilarious self. But he was pleased to have made her laugh because she didn’t laugh often and it was the first time he had seen her laugh like that.
–So I’m guessing that you’re enjoying the ice cream,†he wondered aloud.
–Oh, of course! I didn’t know ice cream would be so wonderful,†Luna stated cheerfully. –It looks so nice and each one tastes so different. Thank you, George.â€
–I’m glad you’re enjoying it,†George told her. –I wish you’d got to taste ice cream way earlier than this.â€
–It’s okay,†Luna replied, looking at the sky dreamily. –There’s a time for everything, you know. I’m particularly pleased that I came here with you.â€
–Does that mean I can take you out on more ice cream dates?†George teased, still in his sprightly mood.
The moment the words had escaped his mouth, he knew he’d said too much. He did ramble a bit too much but he had never embarrassed himself like that; it was supposed to be the other way round. He wanted to kick himself for talking so carelessly and shook his head in embarrassment.
–Are there such things as ice cream dates?†Luna asked, looking at him sincerely. –I do like you very much. And I think I like ice cream now. So I’d like more ice cream dates with you very much.â€
George was rather taken aback by her words. He stared at her, puzzled, as she smiled to herself. Luna had the habit of saying the most striking things in the most simple and subtle manner. Perhaps she had no idea what effect her words might have on people. Though it was not unexpected, he could feel himself turn slightly crimson as he reflected on what she had said.
–I like the pistachio sundae,†Luna said, looking around curiously. –Are you sure a Wrackspurt didn’t get you? You appear as though it did.â€
–Uhh — what? I’m just sur — I mean — okay,†George fumbled over his words. –I’ll get myself a pistachio sundae.â€
As he walked away from their table, a rather boyish smile on his face, he ruffled his own hair, laughing at what had just happened. He had managed to do something he had been secretly hoping to do for quite a few days, but he had done it in the most hilarious manner possible.
He really liked ice cream, he thought to himself. He always had, but perhaps he liked it a lot more than before.
Pineapples and Pistachio by ginny112
Story Notes:
This was written for redheadsarehot for the Romance theme at hp_wishes. The prompt was ice cream. Thanks to my beta songquake for all the help. This is a little old but I had never posted here, so I'm posting here.