Chapter 2: 30 May, 1999
It was almost a year after the war. Teddy's first birthday was celebrated at the Burrow. He was practically part of the family at this point. George made it a point to get completely sober for the affair so he can create a pygmypuff that changed the same color as Teddy's hair whenever he changed it. George loved how happy his gift made baby Teddy. Once again, Teddy helped George crawl a little bit further out of his depression. Teddy reminded George about how much he loved tinkering and inventing new things.
But just as he readied himself to step back into his shop, May 2nd came. Newspapers were reminding the Wizarding World of all that they had lost during the Battle of Hogwarts. He attempted to look passed the articles, but nothing came close to when he was seen walking up to the shop a few weeks later. So many passersby ogled and whispered. Angelina was at his side, holding his hand. They stopped at the front doors.
"You can do this," she whispered.
George looked up at the sign… the sign of which he helped create with his brother. So many memories and war flashbacks came rushing back. All the sudden, George was breathing rather heavily, feeling as if someone were compressing his lungs together. He saw his brother's face very vividly in his mind, the smile of Fred's last laugh permanently etched on his face…
"No," mumbled George. "No, no, no, no-" His vision became fuzzy. He saw a redhead burst from the shop right before he fell and everything went black.
When he woke up, he was on his couch in his flat above the shop. He heard muffled voices in another room… or perhaps in the same room. His hearing has never truly been the same since he lost his one ear. He sat up, his head swimming, his sight blurred. Was it just a dream?
The first person he saw was Angelina rushing over to his side. George smiled, and said groggily, "Morning, beautiful."
"Are you alright, George?" she said, disregarding his greeting. She touched a bump on the side of his head close to his gaping ear hole, and he winced.
"Oi!" He yelled, clutching the bruise.
"You fell pretty hard on the door of the shop."
"Brilliant," George said sarcastically. "Why don't we just cut off this side of my face altogether?"
Angelina smiled gently. "You'd still look handsome."
Ron came in the room with a small piece of raw steak, and slapped it onto his brother's side rather clumsily. "Saw Hagrid doing this once. Seemed to work loads."
"It does but you don't have to be so violent about it," Angelina scowled.
Ron shrugged and left the room.
"He's been a pain in the arse ever since they pushed their wedding date back," Angelina muttered.
"Ah, leave him be," said George, letting the cool steak reduce the swelling in his face. "He's a git when he's angry, but his heart's in the right place."
They both smiled. George sighed and looked around his old flat that he hasn't been in for a year. "Did you clean in here?"
"It started to get dusty and weathered, but we kept it just the way you left it."
"Ange," George said, leaning in closer. "Me and Fred didn't even clean in here."
They both laughed and decided to dismiss the fact that George said "Fred" for the first time since his death. Angelina pulled the steak away from George's face.
"You reckon this'll make me look even more rugged than before?" George smiled.
She couldn't help herself. Angelina kissed him, and he surprisingly pulled back. "I'm sorry," she said, moving farther away from him. "I didn't mean-"
"No, it's fine," said George in a slightly higher pitch than his normal voice. "I just…"
Angelina slowly made her way toward the door. "Let me know when you're all healed." She left before George could say another word.
