Because of the amount of time that had passed, he didn't think it would be appropriate to send her the letter. Although it had only been a few years, the amount of words that hadn't passed between them, all the stuff that had happened seemed to make it seem like centuries. One ear lost, one brother lost, one mother lost. Although the very last was not lost in the sense of the first two- merely in a purely metaphorical point of view.
It was the announcement that had brought on this vein of thought. He had previously been a master of denial, living as a muggle and not making any lasting relationships to tie him down to one place at a time, so that he could constantly be on the move. It reminded him of the time before the war, only instead of funning from certain death, he was running from memories and his past.
He touched the cream colored paper with its mint border again. You are cordially invited to the wedding of Ginny Weasly and Harry Potter... He had always know that it was inevitable, that his sister and the hero of the wizarding world were one day going to get married, but he hadn't thought I would be so soon. It was all his fault, really, for keeping a muggle post box just in case someone really needed to get a hold of him. This little box was his last link to civilization.
He doesn't know how to properly tell Gin that he wasn't going to be able to make it to her wedding. That he couldn't. He hadn't seen anyone from the wizarding world since that night, and he wasn't about to give up his chosen hermitage to attend a wedding- even though it was his only sisters wedding. He would see Ginny and Harry, looking so happy, and his idiot brother Ron, surprisingly still with Hermione, dancing and laughing, and his mum and dad and his older brothers, and…goddamn them!
Didn't they realize that life was short and full of misery, that if you were audacious enough to attempt happiness, you would just get shut down and end up devastated and alone? Fred was gone forever, and yet they had the nerve to forget and go on living their lives. As far as he could see he was the only one who truly cared about all those that had died. All the people who he hadn't seen in years- his entire family, Lee, Harry, Hermione, Angelina-so in love with his brother then, now probably all but forgotten about him-, and Alicia.
Once, he had thought he may have been able to marry her. To start a family and to grow old together. Now, he had no idea where she was, what she was doing, if she was married, had kids, anything.
And oddly enough, he felt nothing when he thought of her. One would expect, that even after all this time, he would still have some type of feelings for her. But, odd as it may be, he just felt nothing. He didn't really feel for anything else either. But he couldn't bear to think that he had lost all feelings, because if he admitted that to himself he wouldn't cease to be human, he would be simply a shell, devoid of all emotion and feeling.
Just then, he heard a knock on the door of the muggle hotel he was staying in. He approached the door with little apprehension; confident that there was no way anyone from the wizarding world could possibly find him. He was surprised- no stunned- to see none other than Alicia Spinnet in front of him. It was ironic, really that she would show up on the very night that he had thought of her in a long time. The thought passed through his mind that him thinking of her had somehow conjured her outside his hotel room, but he pushed it away as ridiculous and simply stared at her.
"Can I come in?" She asked. Not waiting for an answer she pushed past him and surveyed his room. He turned around and just looked at him, waiting for her to tell him what the hell she was doing here. However, she simply walked over to the TV and began inspecting it with a look of amazement on her face that he saw that he would have to start the conversation.
"How did you find me?" He asked, shutting the door. She turned to him, an unreadable expression on her face.
"It wasn't hard. You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think. We've know where you were for ages, but we decided to give you your space. Wait until you decided to return and all," she said, picking up the remote and examining it.
"We?" George asked, pulling the remote that she was currently shaking out of her hand and pointing to the lone chair in the rather shabby hotel room.
"Yeah, we. Your family, friends, everyone. They decided to leave you alone, to not bother you and to let you figure things out on your own. I, however, obviously don't agree, as I am here. I mean, come on George- five years? Five years of self-imposed isolation? Don't you think that is even a bit melodramatic?"
"You don't understand." He said, folding his arms. Who was she to simply show up unannounced and to lecture him on grief?
"Bullshit. That's is always going to be your excuse, isn't it? That no one has felt such pain as you? What about Harry? What about Andromeda and Ted? What about your mom? What about Angelina? What about me? Your not alone George, and you need to accept that and stop all this self-loathing wallowing shit and come home," she said, leaning forward and looking at him sitting on the bed with a fierce look on her face.
"Leave. I don't want this, I don't need this. Get out of my room," he nearly shouted, pointing to the door with a murderous look on his face.
"Not without you," she said simply, looking at him calmly from her chair.
He stared at her. He didn't remember her being this confident, this in control. The old Alicia would have yelled, cried, laughed in his face. It was a bit disconcerting, not recognizing a person you had know for so long and so deeply. He sat down again and sighed. "I guess we have reached an impasse then."
She smiled. "I guess we have. I will not leave without you, and you will not leave period. Although, I must say that I expected more from you."
He glanced into her face at this last remark. "What do you mean?"
"I didn't expect you to run like this. I thought you would be braver, more of a man."
"What?"
She shrugged. "You're running away. Do you know how weak, how selfish that is?"
He stared at her, fury building inside of him. "Who are you to judge me? You don't even care about all of them. They are dead, and you fucking don't even care. You just sit there all nonchalant and smirk at me and judge me and tell me I'm not a man? I have felt more than you ever will, have been braver than you can even imagine. Do you know how hard it has been to not just give up, to not just say fuck it and give up? My brother is dead. My twin brother. And I just…I can't deal with that". At those last words, words that he had never been able to say aloud, his voice cracked and he sat down and cradled his head in his hands.
Alicia stood up from the chair and walked towards him. She sat next to him and the bed and sighed. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are? Yes, Fred is gone, but you are alive. Don't you realize how selfish it is to waste that life that he would do anything to have?"
George looked up at her. "I, I just can't Licia. You don't understand. Every time I see someone who even looks like one of you guys, it's like he's dying again. I actually feel nauseous, like I'm going to throw up." He walked over to the cabinet and poured himself a fire whisky. He inclined his head at her, silently asking her if she wanted any. She shook her head. She had always been unnervingly good at reading his mind.
"You never used to drink before," she said, staring at him as he downed the glass and poured himself another. "You used to say that people who needed alcohol to have fun were boring. You never used to need it".
He glanced up at her. "That was before…." His voice trailed off and he spread his hands. He could sense something hidden behind her eyes. Not pity, but definitely sadness.
She gave a small laugh. "I guess we've all changed".
He gave her a confused look and she smiled. "Oh right. I forgot you have been out of touch for so long. Did you know that Hermione's pregnant?"
At this bit of news he was shocked. "Ron's?" He asked.
She laughed. "Of course. Who else do you think Hermione has been shagging? Out of the wedlock though. Your mum was quite perturbed. That is until your dad reminded her of the-ahem- fun times they used to have back in the day". She laughed at the disgusted look on his face. "And let's see. What else has happened? Lee and Katie are dating. They are quite disgusting actually. Always calling each other dear and sweetheart and such. Makes me want to puke."
"Alicia Spinnet, queen of the romance novels is grossed out? Uh oh, this is serious."
She laughed. He had always been able to make her laugh. Honestly, she missed him. "And Angelina doesn't fly anymore." She said, looking down at her hands.
He stopped smiling. There was an undeniable tension in the hotel room now. It always seemed to come around in a circle. Even the most mundane things had a way of coming back to it. They both just stayed still, silent for a minute. Then Alicia spoke. "Pain is good, you know. It lets you know you're still alive," she began cautiously, as if saying the wrong thing would send him into another hysterical bout of yelling. "Without it, you're not human. We're all in pain, George. You just can't let it consume you".
He just sat there. What she was saying made sense. In fact, it was everything he had been keeping himself from thinking. She was right; it was a lot easier just hiding, never seeing anyone. He glanced over at her. He had missed her. It was funny how much about her he had forgotten.
"Your mom misses you," Alicia said, walking over and standing right in front of him. "She doesn't say it, but everyone can tell. It's like she lost two sons that night".
That does it. "Fuck," he says, closing his eyes. "I never thought about it that way. Bloody hell, I was so selfish."
She shrugs. "Yeah, well. You can't do anything about that now. But you can stop. Come back with me. You don't necessarily have to go to your sister's wedding- although it would be nice. Just take it slowly. I mean, everyone misses you. I miss you. Please?" She looks into his eyes and takes his hand, running her fingers over the knuckle.
He looks down, thinking. "You would, help me?" He asks, in halting sentences, stumbling over the humble words.
"Of course." She says, running her finger down his cheek. He closes his eyes at her touch, and then nods. "Alright." He says, softly. And then, "Alright." Louder this time, more forceful. She smiles and rests her head on his shoulder.
He can't help but be reminded of hot summer days, sitting on the grass in front of Hogwarts, not a care in the world other than quiddich and the little effort he put into his lessons. And of an identical face, with the same hair and eyes, but whose smile was a little more crooked and whose nose was a little more rounded. However, this time the memory brought not intense, searing pain, but a kind of hope. He was ready to stop running and face reality. To go on living in the spirit of his better half. He owed it to him.