He laughed loudly. "Yep. The Helga Hufflepuff. Good friend of mine actually. She's my age - twenty-one. But I got here at twenty." It was a very important distinction in George's mind, because at age 20 he still had Fred (though not technically if you thought about the exact moment he was from) but at 21 back in the other world, he would have been alone for a year.
Without Fred, he would always be alone.
But he wasn't trying to think about that right now. "You want mine?" George asked, though he was already halfway out of his coat; the sudden exposure to the crisp air made goosebumps pop up on his skin but damnit he was a chivalrous Gryffindor! He held the coat out to her. "Fred and I do. Reckon we ought to make it snow soon, hm? It's already almost December..."