Happy Christmas, George Weasley
A/N: This is being written as a Christmas present to two of my friends who have been having a tough time this holiday season. I hope this brings a little happiness and joy to some of you.
For Chelsey and Chris.
"And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge." - Charles Dickens - A Christmas Carol
The shops of Diagon Alley were closed and their keepers had gone home. The streets were swept with snow and ice. A lone wizard made his way to a darkened and closed shop with a large "W" on the roof. The wizard made his way around to the back of the building, purposely avoiding looking through the boarded windows. The wizard stopped in front of a brown door led out of the building into an alley behind the store. He stopped and shook the snow and ice from his cloak. He opened the door and climbed the darkened staircase to the small flat above the store. He opened the door at the top of the stairs and was greeted by a stark and barren room. He removed his cloak and hung it on a nail in the back of the door.
He walked to the cabinet and pulled out a glass. He opened the bottle of fire whisky he had brought with him and poured himself a drink. He downed the drink in one swallow and poured another. He walked to an old chair sitting in front of a seldom used fireplace, holding the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other. He drained the glass and poured another.
He stared into the black fireplace and raised the full glass.
"Happy Christmas, George Weasley," He sneered to himself feeling the drink burn his throat on the way down.
-OOO-
It had been seven months since the Battle of Hogwarts and George Weasley was, for all intents and purposes, lost. The shop he had started with his brother was closed and had been so since that fateful night. His family and friends had kept telling him he needed to move on. He needed to get on with his life. They said Fred wouldn't want him to be like this.
'How the hell did they know?' George asked himself. 'Were they his twin? No, they were not. They don't understand.'
His mum had wanted him to come over for Christmas but he had begged off making up and excuse. He just didn't want to see his family. They were all moving on trying to get their lives together. Hell even Harry had been better as of late and he was messed up beyond all recognition. George however, wasn't getting any better and if he was honest with himself he didn't want to.
George finished the last of the bottle and let it slide from his hand still lost in his misery. Suddenly George came awake with a start. Something had made noise down in the shop. The shop had been closed and boarded up for months. No one should be in there.
George staggered to the door that led to the shop.
"Lumos," he said lighting up his wand so he could see his way down the stairs. Half way down the stairs he heard another loud bang from the shop. Someone was definitely in there. He opened the door at the end of the stairs and was hit by the smell of burning hair and sulphur . George slowly walked his way through the dust and forgotten dreams. Another loud bang shook the shelves. George realized the sound came from the back room they had used for experiments.
George opened the door and a light flooded around him, blinding him. Before his eyes could adjust he was hit with another blast of heat knocking him off his feet. George rolled over on to his back and was greeted by his smiling brother holding out his hand.
"Lord, I missed doing that," he said laughing while helping George to his feet.
"Fred?" George croaked out.
"Georgie old chap, how absolutely shitty you're looking."
"How? You're dead…" George sputtered standing up.
"Hey," Fred snapped with mock indignation. "We prefer the term corporeally challenged."
George was feeling the effects of the whisky and the fact his dead brother was now standing in front of him.
"Well George," he said. "You sure have cocked things up."
"What do you mean?" George said his voice cracking. "Do you know how much I've missed you?"
"George, I know. I've been watching you. But this is bigger than you. You have no idea how much our family needs you."
"I don't care," George said bitterly.
"Yes you do and we're here to show you that.'
"Who's we?"
"That's a good question brother dear. Now if you will excuse me I have some official stuff to get out of the way."
Fred's voice grew dark and ominous.
"George Weasley, being that you have decided that you wish to wallow in grief and death and have let Christmas leave your heart, you will be visited by three spirits this Christmas Eve. These spirits will show you what has been, what is and what will be. Take heed George Weasley lest these spirits destroy you."
Fred's visage returned to normal and he smiled.
"I've gotta go now George. But don't worry," he said winking. "I'll always be watching you."
Fred started to fade and become transparent.
"Wait…" George's voice cracked tears running down his cheeks.
-OOO-
George cried for a good ten minutes. His brother appearing before him had brought out feelings and emotions he had been fighting to hide. George had almost convinced himself that he had just had a whisky induced hallucination. He walked out of the back room, intending to go back upstairs and sleep it off. Suddenly from the front of the shop a light burst forth and the front doors of the shop exploded inward. George who had been knocked into one of his shelves stood up.
From the center of the light a tall figure walked forward, its features slowly becoming visible. Slowly the figure walked forward and Fred recognized the spirit.
"Professor?"
"Mr. Weasley," Albus Dumbledore stepped forward smiling. He looked around with an amused look on his face. "I never got a chance to see this place when I was among the living. From what everyone told me I thought it would be much more festive."
"I've been a little busy," George lied.
"Mr. Weasley, when have you ever been able to lie to me?" Dumbledore asked. "We really do have to be going," he said holding out his arm.
George hesitated grabbing his arm.
"You would do well to come along," Dumbledore said using the tone he used to indicate he was not to be argued with.
George swallowed and grabbed his arm. "Where are we going?"
"I think more to the point more to the point, Mr. Weasley, is when are we going?"
George felt like he was being pulled through a straw and disappeared with a pop.
George and the spirit of his professor appeared on the banks of a small pond next to a small ramshackle building.
"Is this The…" George started to ask.
"Burrow? Yes it is. A much smaller and I dare say much quieter Burrow," Dumbledore smiled pulling George towards the door. "A time before the birth of two of the biggest pranksters Hogwarts will ever see."
Dumbledore was interrupted by the sounds of two wailing babies. "That is until now," he quipped. Dumbledore pulled George forward and the tow melded through the wall into a bedroom.
George saw a much younger version of his mother on the bed with two small squirming bundles of crying red faced babies in her arms. His father sat on the end of the bed looking tired yet happy.
"Oh, Arthur," Molly cried. "They're perfect." She held the two boys and cooed.
"Yes they are Molly… Yes they are."
"Arthur?" Molly asked her face show fear and exhaustion. "Are we doing the right thing? With all that's been happening, are we right to bring more babies into this world? What if something happens?"
Arthur put his hand on her arm. "Molly-Wobbles, look at them. Of course we did the right thing. These boys will be a sign of hope."
The boys who had finally calmed down started to cry again first one then the other almost as if they were taking turns.
"I have a feeling these two will bring a lot of joy and happiness to a lot of people," Arthur said taking one of the children and rocking him gently.
"That and more than a few gray hairs for their parents I would imagine," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.
George was enthralled by watching his parents.
"Mr. Weasley it is time to go," Dumbledore said.
"They look so happy," George said absently.
"Yes they were." Dumbledore reached forward and placed his hand on George's shoulder and the two disappeared.
They reappeared back at The Burrow only this time it was a little later. There was snow on the ground and five children all under the age of ten were frolicking in large snow drifts. George and Dumbledore watched the children playing and tumbling. They slowly went into the house where they saw that Molly and Arthur were also watching the children play from a large bay window. Suddenly the only girl of the group started to cry. Immediately two of the boys started to laugh and clown around in order to get their sister to calm down. It worked.
"Those two are always so silly," Molly admonished without any real anger in her voice.
"Would you have them any other way?" Arthur asked smiling.
"Not for a million galleons. " Molly answered walking away shaking her head.
"I never knew they noticed," George said.
"They were always watching."
The two travelers reappeared at George's flat. George sat down at his small table and put his head in his hands.
"The purpose of this meeting was not to make you feel guilty," Dumbledore said gently. "It was to show you what you once were and what the world needs you to be again." Dumbledore started to fade out and become more transparent.
"You will be visited by two more spirits before this night is over," he said as he passed through a wall.
George stared at the wall that Dumbledore had just passed through.
-OOO-
George sat in his flat waiting. The spirits had told him he was going to receive two more visits so he was readying himself for them. He thought about trying to get some sleep but ultimately decided against it. He wished he had some more whisky as his buzz from earlier was wearing off, and with the sobriety came the pain he was trying to drown. George summoned his cloak and was about to open the door, his intention to go get more whisky. He was flooded by a very bright light causing him to shield his eyes. The light died down and he could make barely make out a slender figure standing in his doorway.
"Wotcher George," the figure said stepping into the room shaking snow from her pink hair.
"Tonks?" George said sputtering.
"Who else?" she said smirking.
"So what are you here to show me, which will make me feel like an ass?" George said bitterly.
Tonks reached forward and smacked George in the back of the head. "Quit whining. You're better than that. Now, take my arm and hold on." He tone showed that she would not be argued with.
George grabbed her arm and the pair was pulled into a room that George recognized as the kitchen of The Borrow. There were several redheads milling around the kitchen while Molly attempted to direct the crowd. The atmosphere was strained any laughter that did break out was quickly stifled by the palpable grief.
Molly was stirring using her wand to stir some gravy and without warning started to cry. Arthur put his arm around his wife and squeezed while the others in the kitchen gave their mother some privacy.
"It's ok Molly," Arthur said gently. "He will come around. He just needs some time."
"It feels like I lost them both," Molly said between tears. "I just wish he would let us help. I went through the same thing with my brothers. I could help."
"I know you could. It's these times we need to help each other."
"I just can't deal with losing another," she said again drying her eyes, "I just can't. I always thought Harry would be the one I would worry about, and I do. But, it's George that has me worried the most. "
This hit George in the stomach like a ton of bricks. He knew his actions were probably hurting his family but he had never seen it firsthand.
Tonks, who had been watching quietly, walked up next to George. "You see, you prat, you're actions are causing your family even more pain."
Tonks put her hand on his shoulder and pulled him into a small room he didn't recognize. There were three children gathered around a small scraggily Christmas tree. The oldest child brought each of her siblings a bowl of runny gruel and a small slice of bread. George recognized the oldest girl, barely an adult herself. It was Verity, the clerk he and Fred had hired to work in the shop.
She handed each of her siblings a small package hand wrapped. Once the children had opened the packages George recognized the contents. They were his and Fred's creations. Verity must have been saving them as she had not worked for him since May.
"Where are her parents?" George asked.
"Yours wasn't the only family to sacrifice in the war," Tonks said. "Voldemort's followers knew she had worked for you and he parents paid the price. She has done a good job with what she can make on the streets."
"You mean she's a…" George stopped himself.
"Her brother and sisters have to eat," Tonks said with a matter of fact tone, "and she's too proud to accept charity."
"I could help her," George said.
"How? You don't run a business any longer, remember?" Tonks snipped.
George nodded and watched the family enjoy the meager Christmas they were having. He was amazed that even though the family was poor, even poorer than his family had been, they were able to find the joy in this season that George had thought died with his twin.
"When you quit you weren't the only one affected," Tonks said holding out her arm.
George took her arm automatically and the two reappeared in his flat. George shakily took a seat on the edge of his bed.
"Why can't you all just leave me alone?" he cried dropping his head.
"Because this is about more than you," Tonks said walking to the door. "Maybe after the next visit you will see that."
"I just want this done with," George said.
"Well that part will pretty much happen, no matter what," Tonks said disappearing.
-OOO-
George sat on the edge of his bed for a long time. He was lost in the thoughts and guilt running around in his head. He thought about his mother and father and how he was causing them pain. He thought about Verity's family and how he was, by his inaction, hurting them.
After a few minutes of brooding George was again bathed in a bright light as the door to the flat was opened.
A figure cloaked in black stepped forward it raised its face and George immediately recognized greasy hair and hook nose of Severus Snape.
"It figures it would be you," George said standing up.
"Mr. Weasley, I want to be here infinitely less than you want me to be here. I was asked to do this," Snape paused for effect, "service. The reason being that among all of us I alone truly know regret." Snape moved closer to George his cloak making a swishing sound. "You will come with me," Snape said holding out his arm like the other spirits had done before him.
"Do I really have a choice?" George asked.
"No Mr. Weasley, you really don't," Snape sneered.
George nodded his head and grabbed Snape's arm, and the two of them disappeared.
They appeared outside a small cottage. Snow blanketed the countryside and it was obvious it was undisturbed. The two melded through the wall and entered into a small cramped room. They could see a slumped figure at a small table. The man at the table was obviously dead and had been for a while. George started to recognize the corpse. The red hair had mostly fallen out but George could see the skull was missing an ear.
"Is that me?"
"It would appear so," Snape sniffed.
"What happened?"
"The man you see died alone and angry. His passing affected only slightly less people than his living."
"What about my family," George begged.
"They moved on. A person can put up with only so much apathy and disdain."
George staggered. He couldn't wrap his mind around a world where his family would grow apart. George's arm went numb under Snape's icy grip and the two again disappeared.
They popped into existence again at The Burrow this time the house looked older than it had before. All the windows were dark and the small house looked cold.
"When is this?" George asked.
"Not as far from now as you may think," Snape answered. Snape continued on past the back door to a large tree on a hill. George knew where Snape was headed. He stopped in front of several leaf covered grave markers.
"Who's buried there?" George asked dreading the answer.
Snape said nothing while the wind blew his black cloak.
"Damn you," George yelled, "Who is that?"
Snape extended a long almost skeletal hand and the leaves swirled and blew away from the markers. George gasped when he read the names and dates on the granite slabs. "But that's only a few years from now," he sputtered in disbelief.
"Did you think maybe she was joking when she said she couldn't take losing both of you?" Snape said his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And of course they were so nauseatingly close that he quickly followed her."
"But I can't have been the cause of that," George said trying to convince himself more than anything else.
"The power of love can be most devastating," Snape said. "Even when it is well intentioned it can kill." George shut his eyes against the tears and fell to his knees. "This can't be happening." He looked up, pleading with Snape. "There has to be a way."
Snape shook his head and started to fade out.
"Wait, come back. Tell me what I have to do." George screamed charging into the disappearing form. Suddenly George was tangled in Snape's robes and he couldn't breathe. He tried to scream but there was no air in his lungs. He fought the blackness until he felt himself falling.
-OOO-
George hit his head on something hard causing him to see stars. George stood up and looked around. He had become entangled with his bedspread and he had fallen out of his bed. He sat up and realized it was light outside.
George started to smile. It was the first time in months he had smiled or felt anything akin to relief.
'I still have a chance,' he thought. 'It's not too late!'
George grabbed his cloak and sprinted towards the door. He bounded down the stairs into the dark shop. He grabbed armfuls of products off of the shelves chuckling. He grabbed one of the extended bags that was still on the shelf and started stuffing various toys and tricks into the sack. He waived his wand and transfigured his cloak into a red suit with white fur trim. He slung the now full sack over his shoulder and walked out the front door, apparating as soon as he hit the front step.
George appeared with a pop on the front step of a small shack he had never actually been to before. He giggled to himself, "It's actually here, amazing." He knocked on the door. After a few minutes a young girl about aged seven answered the door.
"Hallo sweetie," George smiled "Is your sister home?"
"Verrrrittty," the little girl yelled "there's a weirdo at the door," she said retreating back into the room.
Verity came to the door looking like she had just woken up.
"George? What are you doing here?" She asked pulling her robe closed and gathering it in the front.
"Hey Verity," George smiled, "I looked you up cause I figured it was time to reopen the shop and I need my best girl."
Verity looked at George with suspicion. "What's going on? Why all of a sudden."
"Look, Ver," George said letting the bag drop to his side. "I was kind of an ass just closing and not thinking of anyone else. I'm sorry and I would appreciate you coming back and helping me out starting right now with," he handed her the bag, "product testing."
Verity looked angry. "I don't need your pity and I don't want charity."
"I never said anything about charity. You're gonna work your ass off for every bit of your manager's salary."
"Manager?" Varity asked holding her mouth open.
"Did you miss the part about best girl?" George said smiling. "I think your premade testing team will be a great asset," he pointed at her siblings who had started to gather around the two.
"When do you need me?" She asked.
"You can come in tomorrow and start cleaning. Here are the keys and your first month's salary." George handed her a key ring and a small bag that jingled.
"Look Verity there's food in here too," her brother squealed pulling out a ham.
Verity spun quickly back to George with tears in her eyes. "Thank you boss."
"It's no big deal."
"No," Verity snapped grabbing George's arm. "Thank you."
George nodded and watched the children play with the toys while Verity went through the food he had brought. He caught Verity's eye and slipped out the door, leaving the family to enjoy what he had brought them.
-OOO-
George appeared just outside The Burrow's wards. This part was going to be the hardest but he knew what needed to be done. George walked deliberately into the front room of the small home. Everyone was sitting around the fireplace in the front room enjoying each other's company as best as they could.
"Yeah uhm, Happy Christmas everyone," he said smiling nervously. The room was quiet as everyone looked at George.
He was immediately crushed in a Molly Weasley Special hug.
His mum pulled him out of the hug and looked him. "I didn't think you were coming," she cried immediately hugging him again.
"I'm so sorry Mum," George said his cheeks wet with his own tears.
"Nonsense, you're here now and that's all that matters."
Arthur grasped his son's arm and pulled him into a hug.
"It's good to see you son," he said smiling.
The rest of the family surrounded their near prodigal sibling clapping him on the back and hugging him. It was then George realized what was important. He decided then and there that he wasn't going to let guilt or grief define him. He was going to be defined by laughter and joy. His family would never again forget that he loved and cared for them. And from that day forward the name George Weasley was synonymous with the words laughter, joy and most importantly love.