It's been six months. It still hurts. But the hurt has softened a little bit more. I still don't understand. He was supposed to be a groomsman at my wedding. He was going to be the godfather of one of my children. He was the one who convinced me that maybe I could play for the Harpies. Heck, he was the one who taught me how to fly…
"Georgie?" I ask tentatively, peeking my head around the door way. He stopped hiding his grief, but I still feel weird barging in on him.
"Come on in, Bug," he answered without turning around.
As usual, he was dressed in one of Fred's jumpers, a bright orange color, with his magenta work robes over top.
"Are you ready to go?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
With that, I grabbed his arm, dragged him down the stair case, grabbed Ron with my other hand, and apparated the three of us to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Wow," I gasped, out of breathe, "I've never done that before."
"Gin," Ron panted, "I'm pretty sure I left my eyelashes at home."
Indeed he had. All of a sudden, George and I burst out laughing.
"Ron," George wheezed, "You look like a blundering idiot!"
"Shut it George," Ron mumbled, walking into the pub with his head down.
Still, giggling, George and I followed our pouting brother and passed through the arch way, with Ron had left open.
Suddenly, George stopped.
"I can't do it Gin," He said weakly, "It's too hard."
"Look at me George," I replied firmly, "I mean it George Fabian Weasley. Look. At. Me."
He looked up and I saw the faint glimmer of tears in his eyes.
"You know Fred would want you to come back. You both worked so hard. Now chin up, brother. No tears for this dragon."
He smiled a little at the old joke.
"Alright," He agreed, sadly.
It took us around five minutes until we reached the shop. George couldn't bring himself to look up.
"Come on George," Ron called from inside the shop, "Your customers are going to be thrilled to see you."
Then I heard Ron utter under his breath, "Finally."