Summary: After Fred's death, George's emotional state doesn't leave much room for anything besides immense grief, but Alicia won't be pushed aside that easily…
A/N: Happy birthday to the Weasley Twins!
Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable content.
Catch and Release
Alicia sat on her couch, her feet in the air. A state of slight chaos seemed to be hanging around her. She was currently going through an internal conflict over whether or not to get up off her couch and go and face him. Or, should she stay where she was and ride it out, even though she didn't know how long that would take.
George Weasley had lost his twin brother. He'd lost half of himself essentially. Up to that point, George and Fred had never been apart. Now, George was going to have to face the world alone, without his partner-in-crime. That wasn't something you just got over in a manner of a few weeks.
On the other hand, Alicia was desperately missing her friend and occasional flirting partner. While they were at school, George and Alicia had spent a fair amount of time together. Of course, they were usually with Fred and the others in their year, but they would still be focused on each other more than anyone else.
As they'd grown, George and Alicia began playfully and innocently flirting with each other. They went to the Yule Ball as friends and spent summers together playing Quidditch. Eventually, for Alicia, and she was pretty sure it was happening to George as well, their playful flirting turned into actual flirting. Their feelings developed from friendship into fancying into romance. And, just when Alicia felt like they were actually going to take a step forward in their relationship, the wizarding world broke out into war and Fred was killed.
The world was torn apart and any hopes of a romantic relationship with George came crashing down.
That was almost two months ago and no one, not even his family, had heard from him since then. Alicia knew this for a fact because she'd checked with every member of the extended Weasley family. They didn't seem worried about George's withdrawal, but Alicia was.
What if George was dead? What if some crazed Death Eater who had yet to be captured had kidnapped him? What if he was sitting in absolute filth with no one around to clean up after him? The unknown was far too much for her, and now she was sitting on the couch with her feet in the air, trying to decide if she should go over to George's to check on him or not.
'Leesh, you're being ridiculous! George is a grown man fully capable of taking care of himself. He doesn't need you to take care of him!' she scolded herself. However, despite her little internal discussion, Alicia still found herself swinging her legs back on to the ground and standing up to head off to George's flat.
Alicia walked the path between her flat and George's without having to even think about the steps or turns. She'd walked this path so often over the past two years since they'd all moved in that it had become almost second nature. Before she knew it, Alicia was standing at he back door entrance to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and the twins' flat.
Normally, Alicia would have simply let herself in, not concerned about whether of not she would be welcome. On that day, she hesitated. Over the past two months, George had made it clear that he wasn't welcoming of any guests. Hesitantly, Alicia knocked on the door.
As her soft fist landed against the door, the heavy wood slowly opened. In his grief, George must not have ensured that his door was completely closed.
Alicia took it as a sign that her concern had been correctly placed. Any one could have walked right into George's flat with minimal effort. He obviously needed someone to look after him. She quickly pushed open the door and hurriedly climbed the stairs that led to George's flat.
As Alicia climbed, a musty, almost dirty smell met her nose. When she pushed aside the final door at the top of the stairs, the source of the odour became clear George's flat was an absolute mess.
The main sitting area was covered in clothes and cloaks. Takeaway boxes and dirty dishes sat on almost every surface. Garbage, broken wands, wads of parchment, and other detritus littered the floor. It was obvious that George hadn't cleaned a single inch of his home in the two months he'd been secluded away in it.
Alicia was absolutely disgusted by the sight that met her eyes. She was by no means a 'neat freak' but the level of trash and disgustingness of the small flat was almost too much for her to handle. Without even thinking about it, Alicia began picking up around the flat.
George Weasley was awoken by the sound of his flat door opening and closing. He hadn't been expecting anyone. In fact, he hadn't had any visitors in his house in several months. So, the sound instantly put George on edge. His employees had keys to his store, but not his home. His mother had been giving him his space. None of his brothers would have just showed up without checking to see if he would be around. All of this added together to mean that an intruder was currently in his flat.
Less gracefully than he would have liked, as a result of the amount of Firewhiskey he'd had the night before, George found his wand and crept out into the main room of his flat. He rounded the corner from his sleeping quarters into his living quarters; wand at the ready to defend against whoever it was that had broken into his flat.
The sight that met his eyes confused him at first. Brooms, and rags, and bins of trash were floating and flying around his sitting room. What kind of thief broke into someone's house to clean it? But then, a particularly large and slow moving trash bin moved and George could see the source of the initial sound that had awoken him and charmed his apartment to be cleaned.
Standing in the middle of the chaos, directing things like a conductor of an orchestra was none other than Alicia Spinnet. Slowly, George lowered his wand and just watched her work. She was so focused on her task at hand, with an endearingly determined look on her face, that she didn't seem to notice George's presence.
Eventually, the room was once again clean and the brooms, bins, and other cleaning implements slowed. Alicia drew her focus and began surveying the room around her. As she took in the fruits of her labour, her eyes crossed the doorway that George was standing in. she froze and her face quickly flushed red.
"I'm sorry. I – ah – didn't realise you were here and this room really was an awful mess. I just – ah – I just couldn't help myself," Alicia spoke, her tone sheepish and embarrassed. For the second time that day, George felt a small smile across his face. It had been a while since he smiled, so it felt a little foreign, but it also felt nice.
"Yes, well, it is strange to find the owner of a flat home at 7:05 am on a Sunday. I can see why you'd be surprised," George ribbed, feeling a little like his old self again. Since Fred had died, George hadn't been sure how to act and how to respond. He'd lost his gauge, his compass. But, with the comfort and familiarity that Alicia provided, George felt a little more certain, a little more like his old self.
"I just wanted to check in, George. You've been reclusive, which is totally understandable, but I still missed you." Alicia was looking at him with such sorrow and concern that it was almost too much for George. He hated pity, and seeing it on the face of a close friend was hard to take. He was almost about to turn around and return to his room, not caring how rude it would be, when a rueful smile crossed the petite girl's face.
"And it's a good thing I did! Your door was unlocked when I got here. Someone could have come in and stolen your takeaway collection!" Alicia playfully ribbed.
"Or cleaned up my mess for me," George added. 'Maybe,' the thought, as he moved to sit on the now clean couch, 'I shouldn't shut myself away quite so much.'
Alicia quickly joined him and the pair of old friends reminisced about life, the death of Fred temporarily forgotten.
The End