A knock sounded on the door, starting George from his light sleep.
"What?" He called groggily, pulling his pillow over his head.
"You need to get up." Molly Weasley burst into the room.
"Why?" George groaned and curled up under Fred's blanket.
Molly sighed and started opening curtains and stuffing dirty clothes into the laundry basket at her hip. "You have a guest coming soon. And you need to tidy this room up."
George groaned again, and ignored his mother for a few more moments, until his blanket was ripped off his body. He sat straight up and glared at his mother.
"I'm up." He muttered sourly, "Why's she coming anyway?"
"Her father just passed away, and she can't stay at her house anymore." Molly responded, stuffing the sheets from George's bed into her basket, and wrinkling her nose at the smell of sweat.
"Oh." George muttered, and pulled on his jeans over his boxers, looking around the room. His stomach sank. It hadn't been cleaned in years, and he hadn't moved anything since he moved back in after the War, weeks before. He had never been able to bring himself to touch any or Fred's belongings, other than his bed, which gave him comfort rather than brought him to tears.
He waved his wand, muttering a simple cleaning spell while his mother bustled out the door; he watched things fly into place with a lump in his throat. He watched books fly onto shelves, clean clothes hang themselves up or fly into drawers. George held in tears when the socks folded themselves-Fred used to say that socks of all things should never, ever, be folded-he then shook himself for being so stupid and wanting cry over something like that.
He waved his wand again, casting a air-freshening charm over the room; the sweet smell or gunpowder and everything that was Fred immediately disappeared, replaced with a faint scent of flowers. George quickly sniffed the sheets on Fred's bed, and was relieved to find that they still smelled like his brother. His mother wouldn't be so cruel as the wash the sheets on his bed, not yet; though George suspected that Molly was letting Luna stay in his room so he'd have to get rid of reminders of his dead brother.
George ignored the rumbling of his stomach, and leaned agains the wall to let his vision clear. It had been going black ever since he had stopped eating. And his walking was a lot less graceful now. He hadn't touched a broom since before the War, and had no plans to do so now, and not just because he knew he'd probably fall off.
He left the room to go outside to the garden. No one else was out there, so he could be alone for a little while, until someone decided to bother him again. Under the shade of a tree, George observed his father working in his shed, sparks flying and loud bangs emitting from the small space. He watched his mother flitting in and outside of the house, picking up things and charming the bushes to trim themselves. He watched Ron and Harry degnome the garden. He heard the music being blasted from Ginny's room, and watched when
Harry snuck up through her window on his broom, somehow going unnoticed by Molly.
George tried unsuccessfully to get up and help clean the house, but he was instead stuck remembering Bill and Fluer's wedding. He thought about how he and Fred had talked about their own weddings, and skipped out on cleaning the house. It was moments like this when he missed his brother most; when he was left alone to his own thoughts. Everyone else had someone to talk to, someone who understood them, he thought when Hermione Apparated and ran into Ron's arms. George couldn't talk to anyone about his twin's death; the only person he wanted to talk to about it was the one person he couldn't, as he was the one who had died.
"George?" A female voice spoke from above him, he snapped out of his thoughts and looked up.
Her long blonde hair flowed almost to her butt, her large, bright blue eyes gleamed much too happily, and she looked much too old to be his sister's friend.
"Hello." She said, smiling too brightly for someone whose father had just died, but that was Luna for you; unfailingly happy.
"Hey." George replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Unnoticed by him, the whole family, including Harry and Hermione, had appeared around him. He felt uncomfortable with them all looking at him, so he pasted a smile on his face, and reached out a hand to shake Luna's.
She grabbed his hand and instead pulled him into a hug, he stumbled and had to stoop a little; she was much shorter than him. "Thank you for letting me stay with you." She spoke into his chest, as though he had offered. "And, I'm sorry about your brother." George stiffened in her arms, and she just hugged him tighter.
Eventually she let him go, seeming not to notice that he hadn't hugged her back. She went on to hug everyone else, who hugged her tightly and muttered their condolences and hellos. Molly led the way into the house, and everyone started to follow, glancing back at George, obviously wondering if he would follow too. After a few deep breaths he did.
He walked into the kitchen, leaning in the doorway. Luna was talking with his mother animatedly about some crazy idea of her's or another. George held in the urge to roll his eyes as she went on about Wargles or whatever she called them. He wondered how he'd be able to live in the same room as this girl with her weird ideas and beliefs without laughing at her or offending her somehow.
Once it was past six, Molly decided to show Luna to her and George's room, telling the girl she needed to sleep and unpack. George followed, hoping to fall asleep early, and get used to having this strange girl in his room on a semi-permanant basis.
"Help her unpack." Molly kissed George on his cheek, and pointed her finger at him sternly, "I did raise you to have manners after all."
George rolled his eyes, "Sure, mum." He kissed the top of her head, "G'night."
"Good night Luna." Molly smiled brightly at Luna.
"Good night, Mrs. Weasley. Thanks again." Luna smiled back, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ear.
"Call me Molly, dear. And it's no trouble." Molly ducked out the door.
George sat on his bad, picking up a book from the side table, trying to find something to occupy himself with. Luna sang a song under her breath while she unpacked her things, putting her clothes into her side of the armoire. "Was this his bed?" She asked after a moment, pointing to the bed she'd be sleeping in.
George quickly shook his head, "No it's mine." He swallowed a lump in his throat, and felt hot tears prickle his eyes. He shook his head again, trying to clear his head.
"Oh. I'm sorry if I upset you." Luna said in her dreamy voice, looking down at her feet, which were in yellow rain boots despite the nice weather. She was wearing very ripped jeans, and a loose band T-shirt. Some Muggle band George had never heard of.
"S'alright." He looked down at his hands, which were shaking like they did we got upset. "Do you need help?" He offered, suddenly needing something to do with his hands.
"Oh, no." Luna smiled at him, and pulled her wand out from behind her ear. She waved her wand at the vase next to her bad, and conjured a bunch of unfamiliar flowers. They looked odd but smelled nice. George tried to ignore the thought that the sent pushed the smell of Fred even farther away. It wasn't Luna's fault.
"Could you look away for a moment?" Luna inquired, "I need to change."
"Oh, sure." George turned away, face getting hot. He hadn't thought about the fact that they'd both have to change in the same room. The bathroom was too far away to be practical, and the hallway was to easy for people to walk out and see you in.
He could faintly hear the rustle of her jeans hitting the floor, and her shirt following shortly after. "Okay." Luna said eventually.
George turned and headed to his drawers, pulling out a shirt and boxers. "Um, could you...?" He asked, his face growing hot again.
Luna turned without a word, sitting on her bed.
George slowly slid off his jeans, pulling on his boxers and then stripping his long sleeved shirt to replace it with one more practical for sleeping in. "Okay." He repeated Luna's word. She turned back around, and crossed the room to examen the bookshelf.
"Do you mind if I borrow something? I need to read something to fall asleep." She asked him, glancing over at him, blushing slightly at the sight of him in his boxers.
"Sure." George crawled into his bed, facing the opposite way. Luna chose s book from the shelf, and settled onto her bed. He could hear pages rustling and Luna's even breathing. After a while he heard a light snore emit from her side. He turned to find the book dropped loosely on her chest, her hair sprawled across his pillow, and her mouth opened slightly.
George got up, and took the book off of her chest, laying it down on the side table, keeping it's place and shutting off the lamp next the bed.
He drifted off to sleep to the sound of her snoring, getting some sleep for the first time in weeks; he hadn't realized that the absence of Fred's snores had been keeping him awake at night.