Disclaimer: Any characters you recognise are J.K Rowling's. If they were mine, i'd not be writing Fanfic about them, it'd be in the books!!
the song is "Talk You Down" by The Script. the lyrics aren't mine. again, if they were... )
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I can feel the colour running / As it's fading from my face
Try to speak but nothings coming /Nothing I could say to make you stay
"George?" She whispered down the phone line. His voice returned, crackling. That's how she knew he was on the move, on his way somewhere. She paled at the thought. He hadn't been right since Fred had been... had died, three months ago. She had tried to be the best friend, but had to stop when it had got too hard; knowing the boy she loved was collapsing, crumbling before her eyes.
"Kates?" He sighed, audibly, "I love you so much." There was a sound, like a choking sob, and he laughed. "Well, that wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Guess it's too late to really make a difference now." And he went to hang up, but she shrieked his name, stopping him long enough to squeak another, important question.
"George!" She yelled, and Roger looked up at her, irritation on his face. "Where are you?" She lowered her tone and repeated her question.
"I'm going, Katie. At the top of the flat we used to have." And the dial tone kicked in.
"No…" she breathed, slapped her phone shut and reached for her wand.
Roger looked at her, his face confused and his eyes wide.
"Kat, babe, what is it?" He went to put his arm around her, but she stepped back and pulled her coat from the stand.
"Don't Roger."
"What? Katie, I thought-"
"Don't be silly." She half smiled as she picked up an umbrella and closed the front door behind her. "It was never you."
With a deep breath and a final thought of her friend, she twisted into apparition, thinking 'our old flat' with all her might.
Grabbed your suitcase called a taxi / It's 3am now where you gonna go?
Gonna stay with friends in London /And that's all I get to know
When she appeared, the rain immediately soaking her, nobody turned to look. She was just another girl in the crowd. A crowd of thirty-fucking-people at three o'clock in the-fucking-morning. That's what was ridiculous.
"Don't!" Somebody in the crowd shouted, all their necks craned simultaneously but Katie pushed forward and sprinted up the stairwell.
Vaguely, she heard a voice shout, "Stop!", but ignored it, knowing that if she stopped, she would never start moving again. She also assumed it was the police. The muggle police. They had no idea how to work with people, would arrest her if she tried to help. "Perverting the cause of justice", more likely, stealing their glory. But he'd asked for her. He was in trouble. She had to help.
As the scent of fresh paint hit her, she remembered the mint green walls up to their fifth floor flat, the laugh she, Fred and George had shared when the three had enchanted swear words to appear at varying angles, in colour-changing ink, in the face of every person to open their own front door. Three people had a decent nights sleep that week. And they lived in the only flat on the fifth floor.
Just a cigarette gone /No you couldn't' be that far
So I'm driving in my car / Where I hope you are /
Maybe I can talk you down /Maybe I can talk you down
He sighed heavily as he rocked back and forth on the ledge, looking down into the growing, pulsing, never-relenting, staring crowd. He'd wanted her to see the pain she'd caused him, to see what had happened when they'd moved apart. It wasn't by choice, oh no. They'd promised they'd stay together forever if they could.
Just so happened a death in the family could change the strongest bond. She hadn't seen much of him recently, and it burned so much. It wasn't even the fact they were apart. It was who they were with that caused the pain.
Katie'd moved in with Roger Davies. It hurt because all through Hogwarts, there had been a small, unspoken competition between the two boys. Who could win Katie over? Who would get to her first? Who could be her Potions partner, her transfiguration Partner, charms?
Turned out George won every one of those challenges. Except one. Who'd never need her? Because Roger was a happy person, Roger'd never lost his twin, the second half of him. Roger had never had to be convinced by Katie to go to work the week after Fred's funeral and never been watched so proudly on that lonely day from the doorway, by the same girl who was now hurtling towards him across the roof.
We're standing on a tiny ledge / Before this goes over the edge
Gonna use my heart and not my head / and try to open up your eyes
This is relationship suicide
"George!" She shouted as she skidded to a halt a couple of feet away from the edge, on the right side of the barrier. "George, come back. Just over the barrier?" She asked, then, as if to tempt him, "We can share the umbrella then." A small smile. "Keep you dry too."
"I'm already soaked, Katie-Kates. Don't worry." He turned away; spoke almost silently so she had to come closer, close enough to hear. "Like your coat. Better keep it dry, especially if Roger bought it for you?"
"Roger? Right. Like he'd spend a penny on a flat mate." Those words made him look up; swish his fringe from his face. Almost smile. He changed his grip on the slippery bar as she watched him.
"Flat mate? That the slang now?" She almost laughed. Almost. Had she laughed at him, he would've probably launched himself off and become George Jam. Not what she wanted. No, she'd have to use her heart and her head to make sure nothing went awry here.
"George, you know I'd never date a Ravenclaw. Too smart for me." he flashed a half smile; she took it as a good sign and reached her hand out to him.
He drew back as if she was pure electricity.
"Well, then step back, you pillock." she breathed, folding her arm across herself, her chest rising and falling jerkily now. The tears were coming because he wouldn't listen to her; he was going to do something stupid. But she figured there'd be one way of stopping him.
Cos if you go, I go...
"I've not come up here to tell you I love you and watch you die." She breathed as she clambered over the barrier and locked her elbow around the poles, standing next to him and glancing over the edge nervously. "But remember, I don't particularly like heights." She gulped, her head starting to spin. Those people looked really small, all of a sudden.
"Katie. You played house Quidditch." His voice made her return to herself, started to calm her down.
"Bricking it most of the time. You know that. You flew me up really high first ever team practise and I fainted. Remember?"
"Huh, yeah. I remember. You were screaming and screaming…and then nothing. Your head flopped back on my chest and… I panicked. Thought you were dead or something… total failure, I was."
"Hey," She said fairly, waving her free-ish hand vaguely, inadvertently shaking the umbrella, "At least you woke me up. Supported my head as you shook me gently and kissed me."
"Kissed you?" He didn't remember that bit. With one movement, he stepped back and away from the edge, into the pole, then remembering himself, he stepped back, looking down at the tiny people again.
"Bloody kiss of life, you fool. You thought I couldn't breathe."
"Oh, yeah." he blushed.
Taking shortcuts through the alleys / While your racing through my mind
Cops can chase but they wont catch me /Not before I get to speak my mind
If there's still time
She curled her fingers around his wrist, trying to hurry him back, but he was having none of it.
"George, please…" She begged, finally abandoning her umbrella. The storm seemed to intensify as she did so, so much so that her hair was plastered to her face by the time she stood beside him. "Why are you standing up here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." He murmured, half looking at her, but keeping his eyes down, focusing on her feet. "Why did you come after me?"
"Because I care about you, George." She linked her hand with his as they stood, one arm locked around the barrier each, one hand locked with the other's. He murmured something back to her, but she didn't catch it and leaned closer to him. "What?" She narrowed her eyes and stared slightly.
"I said 'But you'll never love me'," He sighed. "That's why… I'm up here. Taking myself out of the equation."
She honestly wanted to slap him. The emotion within her was slamming against her chest and telling her to throw him off herself, for being so selfish.
"Bloody idiot." She whispered.
Just a cigarette gone /No you couldn't be that far
I'm driving my car to where I hope you are
Maybe I can talk you down / Maybe I can talk you down
We're standing on a tiny ledge /Before this goes over the edge
Gonna use my heart and not my head / and try to open up your eyes
This is Relationship suicide
"Christ, Katie, just… let me go!" Their argument had escalated an argument about how selfish he was.
"No." She growled, pushing him back against the bar with more strength than she knew she had. "Blooming hell, George, who don't you just think a bit?" Both looked simultaneously down at the street below. There were small specks of light, every so often, they went out and another would light, and they distracted George for a second..
"Cigarettes." He whispered.
"What?" she looked at him, confused.
"That's the lights." He said matter-of-factly.
"Stop!" She said angrily. "This is enough." He simply looked at her. "I don't understand you. I've been trying to help you over the past three months, but every time I get close, you shut me out and turn away. I've been trying to stop this from happening all this time." He tried to cut in, but she held out her hand to stop him. "And now this!" She yelped, "Sometimes, I want to- to throw myself off a building because I've been through all this crap and I've not spoken to someone about it. But I stop. And I think. There are people around me who… if I did, anything, anything stupid, would never be the same again. They'd miss me, they'd worry… they'd…" She trailed off.
"Katie, I-" He looked at her like he'd just met her, like he'd never seen her before.
"Look, George… if you go… I go."
"What?" he managed to stutter.
"It's like what happened when Fred was… murdered." She breathed. That was the first time she'd ever called Fred's death what it was, and as soon as she said it, she started to really cry. "We all lost a part of ourselves, you the most. But who would lose themselves if you… were lost?" she waited for him to reply, but he just seemed dumbstruck.
Finally, she shook her head and forced the words upon him.
"Who'd lose themselves if you were lost?" She breathed out and blinked twice. "I would, George." his mouth fell open as she pulled her coat off and hooked it on the barrier. "So go on. I'll be down a couple of seconds after you."
He felt as though someone had punched him hard in the stomach. It wasn't Fred's fault that she was upset now, as it had been so many times in the past. It was his. George Weasley made Katie Bell cry. And it hurt him so much.
Without a word, he scrambled through the bars in the barrier, to the safe side. She smiled widely at him and collapsed into sobs.
Cos if you go, I go...
Cos if you go, I go...
Cos if you go, I go...
Cos if you go, I go...
She wiped her eyes, suddenly proud, and twisted quickly after him to scramble over the bar herself. It had been pouring down, all night, and for that moment, she knew where she'd gone wrong. Clambering over the bar had been a mistake.
Her shoes had no grip. Her fingers were cold and she didn't have any strength left. George was standing on the right side of the bar, waiting for her, soaking wet. He went to reach out a hand to her, but she shook her head As she lost her footing, as her fingers slipped, she made sure he saw her smile, made sure he knew it would be OK.
Had the ledge been a couple of inches wider, she would probably have been alright. But, as she grazed the tiny lip at the edge, she skidded and the tiny gravel broke away.
She didn't know what would happen, of course, when she hit the floor, but she knew, in the end, it would be alright. Falling wasn't a new experience to her, the amount of times a Quidditch practise, or a match had left her sobbing on the floor was too high to count.
As she fell, she shut her eyes, to stop the image of George leaning over the bar, horrified, burning itself into her mind, and counted, wondering whether she'd have the capacity to do so in about fifteen seconds.
We're standing on a tiny ledge /Before this goes over the edge
Gonna use my heart and not my head
He saw her fall, almost in slow motion, her small smile of resignation, and the pain in her eyes, and in that second, knew that… if she went, he would go with her. Because he simply wouldn't be anything without her.
It wasn't supposed to go like this… this way, the pair of them apart. He moved before he thought, ran at the barrier, put one foot on it and forced himself to jump over, even though suddenly, he didn't want to die.
"Katie!" He yelled after her and prayed he wasn't too late. Falling was, again, a familiar experience, and he almost enjoyed the seven storey fall.
Just a cigarette gone / No you couldn't be that far
So I'm driving in my car where I hope you are
Maybe I can talk you down
Maybe I can turn around
Then she felt a pair of arms around her, and a body twist her into the dark, crushing abyss of apparition. Moments later, they landed in the front garden of the Burrow.
"Katie?" He murmured as she lay in his arms, unmoving, "Katie?!" She breathed out and her eyes fluttered open.
"Never," She breathed, "Never, Ever, take me up that high again."
Her fingers gripped his wrist and she tried to stand, her feet failed her and George caught her in his arms again. She looked up at him, blushed and looked away.
"A-are you alri- Let me take you inside." He murmured, she shook her head and stood up properly, holding onto him for support. "Is your foot alright?"
"yeah." She breathed, testing her weight on her ankle. "Yeah, it's fine."
They smiled at each other, looked away, embarrassed, then Katie leaned forward and touched her lips to his cheek. Well. Had he not turned to look and see whether the light was on in the kitchen, she would have kissed his cheek.
Their lips met suddenly, but George rapidly slowed the meeting. His hands slid up to rest in her hair and the other to encircle her waist, hers released his upper arms and pressed against his chest, like in the movies.
As they pulled away, looking at each other with deep blushes on their faces, Molly Weasley pushed open the kitchen door and shrieked.
"George?! Where have you been? You're soaked! Get inside… and who's your friend?" She looked at Katie closer, no recognition dawning.
"Molly." Katie smiled as George released her, "It's me," There was a small pause and Molly's eyes widened.
"Katie! I've not seen you in so long! Come in, sweetheart, please, come in… let me get you dry… get you a drink… George, what on Earth were you doing?"
She pulled Katie in by the wrist and left George standing in the garden, confused. Katie stopped and beckoned him after her. Sopping wet, he caught up with them and curled his arms around her waist as she stood awkwardly in the kitchen. As Molly dried the pair of them, she felt his arms tighten around her, strong and making her feel infinitely safer.
"Let me get you some fresh clothes… I'm afraid they're only going to be Ginny's, she was a …" Molly looked at her, trailed off, a light in her eyes as she disappeared up the stairs to retrieve some clothes. She seemed happy to have a girl back in the house, especially one for George, who the three knew had been so out of sorts recently, because of the Second War. She returned holding an old pair of jeans and a too-big jumper which, when George looked, was actually his. She handed them to Katie, who held them up against her and pulled a face "Too small?" Molly asked.
"Too Big," George grinned, yelping as she elbowed him in the ribs. "What?"
"Shut up!" She growled, but George knew she was joking. As Molly left, they stood and looked at each other, smiles forming on their faces which, George thought, would never be dimmed. He looked at her as he took a seat at the kitchen table, smiling slightly.
"So." He breathed, somewhat seductively.
"…Well…" and she grinned as he caught her wrist and pulled her against him, pressing their lips together.
We're standing on a tiny ledge / Before this goes over the edge
Gonna use my heart and not my head / and try to open up your eyes
This is Relationship suicide
Hogwarts, four years previous.
"I should hit you." She said as they sat on the roof, swinging their legs and holding hands, "You know I don't like heights."
"I'm hardly going to jump off-" he realised what he had said as she rose and walked away. "Katie…Katie, wait!" He rose, balancing awkwardly on the guttering. Sprinting, disturbing the heavy tiles and hoping nobody was walking around below, he caught up with her.
"George…" She breathed as he gripped her wrist and she faced him, the moonlight reflecting in her eyes, "Stop saying that. You'll make me think you'll do it someday."
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A/N - Please review! - it's my 1st fic, i want to know whether to carry on, to stop, whatever! (Also wish to know whether to turn this into a string of oneshots/songFics)
At one stage i didn't think they'd make it down, that's how long it took for what was in my head to drop onto the page.
Wistfully imagines George and Katie stuck at the top of a block of flats, being buffetted by the wind and rain in a very dramatic, cold and wet way
Thanks for reading! xx