A week after Fred Weasley's funeral, the Burrow was as quiet as the grave. Which, in any normal family, might be taken as a good sign, everybody loves a little peace and quiet. But the home of the Weasley's was never a quiet place, and seeing it as such was quite unnerving.
But there was a logical explanation as to the current state of the house and surrounding area, Bill, Charlie, Ron, and Ginny Weasley, accompanied by their mother, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger were all currently visiting the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole. They all needed a little break from the house filled with memories of Fred Weasley's laughing face.
George wasn't with them; George was hardly ever with them anymore. The Weasley's had decided collectively to give him some time to mourn his twin's death in peace, and they were currently respecting that decision.
The day had been an unusually good one. No one had spoken about anything that had any real importance; they were all simply trying to hold together as a family. It was the first day in a week that Mrs. Weasley hadn't cried her eyes out against one of her sons' shoulders.
The family was headed back to the silent Burrow, almost sad to bring an end to their first pleasant day since the battle at Hogwarts. As they were strolling casually back to the house, there was a loud CRACK from outside the gate.
Bill and Charlie, Harry and Ron reacted on instinct, whirling around and drawing their wands, moving in front of the girls next to them.
The four men pointed their wands at the unknown person who had apparated to the Weasley home.
But they needn't have worried.
All immediately lowered their wands upon seeing George Weasley, looking extremely disheveled and rather unclean, walking up the path, hands shoved in pockets, kicking at the dirt beneath his feet.
Ron looked anxiously at Harry, but then walked over to his brother, and said in a kind voice, "Hey there, George. Alright?"
George grunted and proceeded into the house.
Ron looked at Harry first, and then at his eldest brothers, sharing a look of worry and confusion with all of them.
The family went into the house, somewhat cautiously, only to see George seated at the kitchen table, waiting for lunch.
Mrs. Weasley hastened to pull out her wand and whip something up, and the rest of the family sat down at their usual seats, without uttering a word.
And the smell of Molly Weasley's wonderful cooking distracted all of them for a period of time.
George left the table before any of them, excusing himself early, saying he was going to his and Fred's room (though he didn't say his brother's name) to get some things for the shop.
Bill stood up to go with his brother, but George stopped him, saying, "No, Bill. This is something I have to do myself."
Bill seemed unsure, but nodded.
George was already half-way up the stairs.
The kitchen was unusually quiet after that. All of the members of the house were listening for sounds from upstairs; any sign that George needed help or was doing poorly.
They didn't hear a thing.
Mrs. Weasley stood up, her legs shaking slightly, and said, "You know, I think I better go and check on…" but stopped when she heard the shower start running upstairs.
Charlie's eyes widened. "He went upstairs to shower?"
The rest of the table shook their heads; each wondering what on Earth George could be up to.
The household jumped when the front door slammed open, crashing into the adjacent wall.
All occupants of the Burrow (with the exception of George) moved to pull their wands, but hastily stowed them when Angelina Johnson entered the room, looking exasperated.
"Where is he?" She huffed, arms folded across her chest.
No one bothered asking who she was talking about.
Ron pointed up the stairs.
Angelina stormed up the stairs, followed by the rest of the Weasley family plus Harry and Hermione.
She stopped outside the bathroom door, and started pounding on it, her wand tightly clenched in her fist.
"Mum, I don't need any help." Came George's quiet reply from inside.
"I am most certainly not your Mum, George Weasley, but if you don't open this door right now I will blast it off."
"Angelina…" Harry started forward, moving to grab her arm.
She glared daggers at the young man, and turned back to the locked door, calling through it, "We were in the middle of a discussion, George, and you can't just up and leave every time someone mentions his name! I know you feel guilty, but for God's sake! You were just starting to be happy! Do you think I like living in your flat with you, making sure you eat every day? Do you think I like making sure you don't waste away to nothing?"
No answer from inside, but Mrs. Weasley shifted uncomfortably on the stairs. She didn't know Angelina had moved in to George's apartment.
"Fine," Angelina muttered, "I warned the prat." She lifted her wand and pointed it at the closed door currently keeping her from the one remaining Weasley twin.
The door was blasted open, and true to her word, right off its hinges.
Angelina marched into the steamy bathroom, and yanked back the curtain, sending hot water went splashing all over the floor.
There, under the stream, was a very wet, and very dressed, redheaded, one-eared, Weasley.
"Angie…" he croaked out, and Angelina's stony posture relaxed, into one of pity.
George did not miss this. He growled at her, and turned his back, saying, "I don't want your pity, Angie, if that's how it's going to be, then just leave."
"I'm not leaving. Why are you dressed, George?"
He looked everywhere but at her face, and didn't even seem to notice his family and their significant others poking their heads through the missing door.
"If I wear them, then they get heavy, and weigh me down. When I take them off, it feels like there's a weight being lifted, and I feel free for a minute, before it all comes crashing back harder than ever before." His voice cracked on the last word. "It's the only time it doesn't hurt so badly, right after I take off the wet clothes."
Angelina didn't say anything, but stood regarding George for a few more seconds, before slipping off her shoes, and stepping into the shower with him, just as completely dressed as he was.
George slunk away from her, retreating into the far corner of the tub, and curling into a little ball on the ground.
Angelina's hair was being plastered to her face and back, and her jeans were getting darker and heavier with each passing second, but she still crouched down in front of George, putting her hands on his knees. "Let me in, George."
A ghost of a smile played across his lips, and he said, "What are you talking about? You're already showering with me, how much closer can we get?" And George's eyes went back to their previous black, lifeless color.
"I meant into your heart. You're so scared of this, of us, that you just keep pushing me away. I miss him too, George. I'm not going to pretend I know anything about what you're going through, but let me try. Talk to me, please."
And for the first time since his brother died, George started to really cry. He broke down at Angelina's words, and sobbed uncontrollably into her shoulder. She sunk lower to the floor, and held George close, water rushing over both of them.
She muttered soothing words into his ear as she stroked his hair, and soon she was crying along with him, but quietly.
The seven people watching from the doorway backed slowly away, Mrs. Weasley wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
The youngest four went outside again to walk to the pond, leaving Mrs. Weasley and her two eldest in the sitting room, all quietly contemplating the scene they had just witnessed in the bathroom.
After not too long, the water shut off. And a few seconds after that, they heard heavy footsteps on the landing upstairs, and then George's door opening and closing.
No one bothered Angelina and George for the rest of the day.
When they did come downstairs again, it was only so George and Angelina could kiss Mrs. Weasley goodbye before leaving.
Before Angelina could get out the door, Mrs. Weasley pulled her back, saying in a soft voice so her sons couldn't hear, "Please take care of him, Angelina. I'm worried about him. I don't know if he's going to be okay." Her eyes began to fill with tears again.
Angelina took Mrs. Weasley's hand, gripping it tightly, and said, in the most serious tone Molly Weasley had ever heard from the young woman, "He's going to be just fine. I'm going to make sure of it."
And the couple left. As another one of Molly Weasley's children walked out of her home, the woman thought she should feel sad. But Mrs. Weasley was not sad, nor was she worried. She trusted Angelina Johnson, and she knew that, in time, and with the right person, George Weasley would be just fine. He would never be quite the same person he used to be, but he would be as whole as any man can be after his kind of loss.
And Mrs. Weasley realized, right then, that she would be just fine too, eventually.