Do You Ever Wish Things Turned Out Differently?
Summary: Post DH. EWE? Ignore RHr ship. Established George/Hermione. After the Final Battle, George and Hermione talk about wishes. A wish for 11/11/11.
A/N: I totally don't believe that Fred is dead; he was just asleep when they found him. But for the purposes of this fic he is unfortunately.
It had been a long day at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. It was a few months following the war and George had finally decided to reopen the shop. Hermione had supported him the whole time, always encouraging him to do his best and never give up. They'd been together since the end of the war; both were trying to deal with losses so they grew together, finding a companion and comfort in one another. George couldn't be happier than he was with Hermione.
Making his way up to the flat above the shop where Hermione was waiting for him, George thought of their time together. Of Ron's anger when he found out about them. Of the times they'd both just sat, holding each other, grieving for the lives that had been lost. Of the happy times, when they'd get to talk and laugh, forgetting the past, looking to the future.
Hermione was waiting for him, curled up on the couch before a roaring fireplace. She stared into the flames, and looked up when she heard the door open.
He toed off his shoes and hung his magenta apron on the coat rack before joining her in the living room.
Down the hall were the two bedrooms, one of which had previously been occupied by Fred and now housed George while the other was now Hermione's. She figured there was no reason that she should crowd the Burrow anymore so why not live with her boyfriend? George was glad for the company, especially on those occasions where Fred's death became too hard to handle.
Hermione smiled and snuggled into his side when he sat down.
Wrapping his arm around her, he asked, "What were you thinking about?"
She gazed up at him with love in her eyes, "Oh, you, of course." Sitting up slightly, she continued, "I've actually been thinking—,"
"You? Thinking? Oh, Merlin forbid," he interrupted, receiving a light smack on the arm.
"Oh, hush, you. Anyway, I was just wondering: Do you ever wish things turned out differently?"
He thought for a few moments. If he had to change one thing, it would be for Fred to never die. But it was through his death, and George's subsequent grief, that they were able to get to know each other and start dating. However, if they never dated, Ron would never have gotten mad at them. But if he hadn't gotten mad at them and gotten over Hermione, he'd never have gotten to know and start dating Luna over the summer. Everything bad that happened resulted in something good, he realized.
"No," he finally decided.
"Really?" she asked, surprised.
"Do you?" he asked, hoping for the same answer in return.
"No, I don't. I think everything's turned out for the better despite the war."
"I feel the same way," George agreed. "When Fred died, I didn't think anything could make me feel better. Until I found you." She smiled up at him. "I would love for him to be here, don't get me wrong, but everything bad that's happened has led to something—someone—," he looked pointedly down at her, "much better."
"I love you."
"I love you, too," he leaned down to kiss her, leaving all worries of the war and 'What If?'s and wishes behind.