After the Battle of Hogwarts, what was left of The Order agreed that they needed a man on the inside to keep tabs on Voldemort. They knew Harry would be a target, but they weren't sure how far Voldemort's reign stretched.

George had fallen into a deep depression after he lost Fred. Most nights he was found laying on the floor of a pub after having challenged anyone within earshot to a duel. It was almost too easy for George to drive The Order to excommunicate him. It was much harder for the Dark Lord to trust him enough to welcome him into the ranks of the Death Eaters, but eventually he did.

They had been on the hunt for months and so far and all Bellatrix and George had been able to report back to the Dark Lord was that Harry Potter was no longer in England.

"This is as good a place as any," the cabin looked as though it was held together by some weakened charms, and a few rusty nails. George pushed through the front door into a one-room shack that likely hadn't been inhabited in decades.

"Scourgify!" George pointed his wand around the room and with a few flicks of his wrist the place looked a little less grimy.

"You couldn't just leave it, Red? You had to use a spell, when you know you are being traced?" Bellatrix's eyes were burning through him as she paced inside the door.

"Habit, I guess." George shrugged his shoulders and turned to go back out into the cold January night. "I'll get us some wood for a fire. No wand, I promise."

They were being traced, not only because of him, but also because of how unhinged Bellatrix became when The Dark Lord took young Amaranth Parkinson to be his partner in producing progenies.

The meal they ate that night was simple, some condensed soup and a few stale crackers, but it filled them up.

"I'm sorry for using the spell," George said quietly as he reached across the table. "Bella, please look at me," his fingers brushed over the tops of her knuckles.

"You know better, Weasley!" she screeched, before pushing her chair back and stomping out of the cabin. "I'm going to make sure the charms set up around the perimeter are working. Clean up the dishes, since you are so intent on keeping things clean!"

George knew she wouldn't be back until much later that night, but he never worried about her. She was the strongest person he had ever met, no one would mess with her and get away with it.

The embers were glowing red in the fireplace when she snuck back in. George was sound asleep on the only bed, but as soon as she slipped under the covers he stirred and reached out to pull her close to him. He was warm from sleep, and her riotous hair tickled his nose and smelled like snow. He moved it with his free hand and kissed the crook of her neck.

When he put his arm back on her waist, she reached down and laced her fingers with his.

"I just want one more night like this before we have to go back." She whispered.

"Fine, but you're doing the dishes next time."

She smiled, just a bit, but that was why she liked him. No one had ever made her smile like he did.

"Never."