Not sure if I'm happy with this chapter.. I may change it later. At the moment it just feels like a filler.. Just a warning that this chapter may change completely within the next couple of days.
George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters.
Later that day, George returned to The Burrow. He stood outside the door, wearing his old, shabby clothes, not really sure what would behold him when he opened it. He could hear voices inside, but it was a lot quieter than usual, eerily hushed. Taking a deep breath, he put his hand on the door handle.
As he pushed the door open, he heard the occupants inside fall even quieter as they waited to see who it was. He found himself breathing in deeply, wallowing in the familiar smell of his home compared to the hospital he'd just been in. Stepping into the house with as much confidence as he could muster. For a minute he stood there, the eyes of his remaining family boring into him. His father came up behind him and put his heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Hello, son." He said, gently. It seemed that despite his worries, his family had eventually understood why he had to leave them at Hogwarts. But his mother was still shooting awkward glances at him.
Slowly he walked over to the large table and plonked down heavily on one of the chairs. His brothers were looking at him strangely, while his sister sitting at the end nearest him smiled nervously.
"Hi, George." He looked at her but he didn't smile back. As his eyes travelled slowly round the room, he noticed Harry and Hermione also sitting at the table, looked awkwardly at their hands. Ron however, who was sitting next to them, was glaring at him. Hard.
The awkward silence continued for a couple more minutes, the only noise the sound of dishes scrubbing themselves and his mother putting things in cupboards, until finally it got to him.
"You don't have to all shut up because of me, you know." He barked at them, uncharacteristically. Still no one said anything, until Ron stood up.
"Where did you go?" He demanded. Hermione looked on worriedly as him and Ron had a cold staring contest
"I went to St Mungos, if you must know." George was starting to hate himself for talking to his family like this, but it just seemed to be spilling out.
"Why?" Ron yelled again, coming closer "You should have stayed with us. We're your family! Don't you even care?" As Ron started getting more loud, their father moved closer.
"Calm down, son, I'm sure he had his reasons." He put his hand on Ron's shoulder this time, but George said nothing. He was mulling over what Ron had said, his last sentence ringing in his ears. Of course he fucking cared.
The staring contest continued.
Eventually he stood up
"I'm going to bed." He mumbled irritably, and walked away from the table. Stomping up the stairs, he could hear his siblings whispering hastily after he'd left.
"Nice going, Ron!" His sister hissed angrily. A chair creaked as Ron slowly sat down again
Coming to his bedroom door, his hand lingered on the doorknob once again. He hadn't been here in a while; before the battle at Hogwarts he had been sharing a flat in Diagon Alley with his brother. But without Fred there he didn't feel like he could return. He was actually pretty surprised he was able to face The Burrow to be honest.
After just staring at it for what seemed like hours, he finally turned the doorknob and walked into the old room. It was exactly the same as him and Fred had left it, apart from some belongings, which had been put there for lack of a better place.
He looked around. There were scorch marks on some of the walls from experiments, and a pane in the window that had been temporarily repaired with a plastic bag. He remembered how much their Mum had yelled at them for that, and how much fun it had been in the first place. Everywhere he looked he could see remnants of what he'd lost.
He'd done a lot of staring that day. Taking things in seemed to be a lot harder than it usually was. After a while of standing in the threshold, he shut the door behind him and slumped on a bed. Fred's bed. Usually he would of chuckled at the rhyme but at the moment he was lost in his thoughts. He didn't feel like laughing anyway…
Lying down properly he looked at the ceiling. 'What am I gonna do now?' He thought to himself, glancing out the window as trees blew around in the breeze. He couldn't hide in this room forever, although that was what he felt like doing. The world seemed too much at the moment, and not used to feeling as depressed as this, he didn't really know how to go about looking forwards.
He turned onto his side, his headache coming back again. He felt like a dumb kid. He felt guilty for being angry with his family, and he felt stupid for not being able cope with this. Squeezing his eyelids together, he tried to forget the world.
"I wish this was a bad dream." He mumbled to himself as he opened his eyes again, picking at the fluffy bits on a blanket. He felt like crying again, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Though it still felt like he shouldn't, that if he did it made him even weaker. So he held it in.
"George?" The muffled voice of his sister travelled through the door. He didn't say anything. "I brought you some tea." Tea- the drink that fixes everything.. Or so people reckoned, he thought to himself sarcastically, hoping she'd go away.
Accepting she wasn't going to get an answer whatever the case, Ginny opened the door slowly, peeping her head round the corner. Silently she stepped inside the room, and padded across the wooden floor towards the bed he was lying on, trying to feign being asleep.
He felt a bit pathetic just lying there, trying to look convincing. And it obviously wasn't working because she hadn't left yet.
"George, I know you're not asleep." It sounded like she was getting a bit impatient with his pretending. "Sorry to tell you this, but you snore really loud." He didn't open his eyes.
Still holding the cup of tea, Ginny sat on the edge of the bed, shoving his legs out the way. He'd always considered himself close to his sister, but at the moment she was just annoying
"Leave me alone." He muttered, accepting that she wasn't fooled.
"We're all devastated you know, George. It's not just you." She snapped, harshly. George opened his eyes, her face was all puffy. "Why'd you leave us at Hogwarts?" She said the question a little more softly. He moved his eyes to stare at the ground.
"I needed to get away.." He murmured, his mind wandering. They stayed silent for a while.
"The funeral's going to be on Sunday." She almost whispered. There was a pang in his chest. "Mum and Dad were worried you weren't going to come."
George continued staring at the floorboards. Just thinking about it was ripping him apart. Ginny watched his face carefully, but it didn't show anything. Just kept staring
"George?" The tone of her voice had that imploring, achey noise, as if she wanted him to show something. "George, please." She said, desperately. She put the tea on the floor, and continued to watch him.
His eyes flicked around the room as he thought of this. He would have to say goodbye, for real this time. He would have to let go. The last chance he'd get to see him, and then he'd be gone forever. Underground. To be eaten by worms.
The thought of it was making him feel sick. His brows furrowed against his will.
"I miss him so much, George." She said, trying to coax him into talking. Thoughts kept zooming around his head. It was for real now, he thought. He felt foolish, the full realisation of his brother's death dawning on him so late. Before it had all seemed a mysterious haze of guilt, now it was killing him from the inside out.
Ginny's face had gone pink. He seemed so empty now, like the part of him that had made him George had died along with his twin.
"George!" She was almost yelling now in frustration, her eyes watering. "Talk to me!" She shook his shoulder roughly as he stared at wall.
"Ginny, what am I going to do?" He mumbled, barely audible. His face looked worried, and she started to feel guilty for pushing him to talk about it. She had never seen him like this before. It was strange..
"He was my best friend." He was still gazing at the wall.
"We'll get through it, George." She said kindly. "He'll never be forgotten." She put her hand on his shoulder again, gently this time. George began to sink into self-pity, his eyes were wet again, but still he didn't want to let go. 'Don't be afraid of crying.' Luna had said. But that was the one thing he was afraid of. If he cried, then the pain would be lost, and strangely that was the one thing he wanted to hold onto. The last remnant of Fred's existence, the pain it left inside all of them.
Ginny got up from the bed, deciding to leave him alone for a little while.
"Your tea's here." She said, moving it from the floor onto the table next to him. He still didn't move. Sighing softly, she finally left the room, leaving her brother to marinate in his thoughts.
