"I'm not in love with her!" George protested, a little too quickly. Did it even matter any ore? He'd confessed it to her, was it a big deal if everyone else knew too? And she's told Draco, of course... Ugh.
"She's... she's... all right, so she is a bubbly, squealing ball of pink. But I love her," he sighed. Where the hell was that drink? "Not that it matters."