-1NOTE: I mean to post this before, but I forgot. I've been gone for about a week or two, I apologize most sincerely. I went on vacation then my computer went on strike. I wrote these in that time though. I hope you enjoy them. Also, I haven't gotten to correct the others since my computer crashed or respond to PM's but I will! I apologize once again. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling.
The next morning, George stretched lazily as he heard their mom shouting. "You're going to be late for breakfast!" He was sleepy, but it struck him how much it sounded like the mornings they use to wake up to go to Hogwarts. The trunks would be waiting at the foot of the bed, the scarlet steam engine would be waiting in the station for them to board and make their way back to the beloved school. He didn't want to open his eyes, because then the wonderful feeling would be all over…he'd have to see that his time at Hogwarts was over, that instead of four beds in this room there would be only three. After he could put it off no longer, he arose from bed and dressed, refusing to look at the crumpled bed that was Fred's. He knew if he did, that he eyes would look eagerly about for the face that he could only see in mirrors or photographs now.
Going down the stairs, he kissed his mum. "Good morning mum," he yawned sleepily. After a rowdy, almost normal breakfast he spoke up. "Mum, Dad…I'll be going back to the shop this afternoon."
His dad put his fork down slowly. "Would you like me to come with you?"
"No, I've got to pack up some things. Find a new place…" He looked at the questioning expression on his father's face. "I'm selling the place." He put his hands up to stop the others from saying anything. "I've thought about it…I don't want it anymore."
No one said anything more, through the rest of breakfast. After he finished, he put his plate in the sink and stalked up the stairs. Hurriedly, he packed his things up before anyone came to persuade him otherwise…but no one came. He stuffed everything he wanted and needed into his trunk. Looking about the room, he saw the mess that he and Fred had left. Picking up Fred's sock he looked at it a moment, before placing it gently back down. Quickly, he banished his trunk to the flat above the shop. Then walking out the door, he saw his mum stonily washing dishes, but as he approached he saw that instead she was really crying. He walked up to her. "Goodbye mum." He kissed her cheek, and saw her shut her eyes to keep the tears repressed. He turned to his dad, who looked white face and thin, much older than usual. "Later, Dad." He shook his dad's hand, then embraced him in a hug. Without another look at the others, he walked out the door and past the gate. Promptly, turning on his heel he disappeared.
A few moments later, he was standing in front of the boarded up shop that read WEASLEY WIZARD WHEEZES. He stood there for a few moments, just looking up at the store. He was unable to move for awhile as people passed him in Diagon Alley. Finally, like a sleepwalker he found himself in the flat above. It was in utter disarray. They had packed hurriedly when they had went into hiding. It was almost if he could see the ghost of Fred walking about, "Bloody hell! Why do we have to hide?" He had went on a tirade the whole time, until his eyes fell on a short note that he had received the night before from Angelina. "
Fred,
Our family is safely in hiding, and I know that you will be doing so soon. Please keep yourself safe for me.
Love always,
Ange
He picked up the note that still laid there. Remembering how badly Fred had wanted to come back, to risk his life for that small sheet of paper. He tucked under his pillow for safekeeping, but everything else he left as is.
A few days passed, in which George spent his time cleaning and taking inventory with Verity who had appeared the day after he had. She had said nothing about his decision to close the shop, she just nodded and set to work. Her face was set into troubled lines, she had lost both of her parents in the war and was now completely alone. Even though, George knew exactly how she felt he couldn't figure out what to say to her. So together, they struggled on in silence-two people in a room, but both alone.
George had half expected his family to show up to talk him out of it, but they didn't. At first this was a relief, then he felt sadly disappointed they had not come or even sent him an owl.
One night, in the middle of the night as the thunder rumbled he heard a soft sound in the howling wind. Getting out of bed, he lit his wand and went warily down the stairs. As he reached, the bottom he heard the soft sighing of Verity asleep in the stockroom. He had felt sorry for her, she had no other place to go. Slipping the curtain up over the window, he saw the sodden heads of four people he desperately wanted to see.
Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermoine filtered into the room soaking wet. Hermoine stepped foot in and promptly began drying herself and Ron with a spell. Ron stood there, squinting in the darkness to get a better look at George. "We need to talk."
George sighed. They had come later than he thought, but they weren't here for him. They were just here to tell him not to sell the business. He motioned for them to follow him quietly upstairs. Turning on the lights, he sat on his bed with his arms folded. "I'm listening," he replied stonily.
None of them spoke. Hermoine sat there looking about the room and finally settling onto a packed up box labeled "Punching Telescopes". Ginny and Harry reclined slightly against the desktop, side by side. Ron stood standing with that same look on his face. Hermoine looked about and finally, fought to speak. She squeaked, "How are you George?"
"Fine."
She lapsed into silence, tears in her eyes. Ginny jumped up. "Don't be such a prick to her!"
"Don't you dare!"
Ron said in a quiet voice that fit perfectly with that squinting penetrating stare. "Think you're the only one that lost a brother? The only one that feels pain?"
The room was deathly quiet. Harry had already decided he wouldn't get into the middle of this unless absolutely necessary. "George, mate…", but George wasn't listening. He was staring hard into Ron's face with an unfathomable look. He stood up slowly. Hermoine gasped thinking that he was going to hit Ron, but instead he looked at his brother as if he had never seen him in this light before.
Ron continued on his ears red, "Fine. If you want to sell this place, then bloody hell do it! I wouldn't have thought it of you, George…Betraying Fred and his memory like that. Do what you want." He shrugged his long, lanky shoulders. "Let's go, he's not going to listen." Reluctantly the group followed him down stairs. A moment or so later, he heard the front door bang and looking out the window he saw them spin and disappear into darkness.
George stood there looking out the window lost in thought, until he heard a knock at his door. Turning he saw, Verity coming in. "What happened?"
He looked at her a moment, "My family came to convince me that I shouldn't sell the place."
She pulled her wrap around her. "You shouldn't."
"Why didn't you tell me before now?"
"It wasn't my place."
"How's that changed?"
"You brought it up." She smiled up at him and it was then that he noticed how lovely her eyes were. How her blonde hair fell down her shoulders and covered their bareness.
Verity smiled again. "What's the matter George?"
"Nothing."
"I can tell you're lying." She reached up and brushed the hair back from his forehead, her wrap falling slightly open. "What's wrong?" Her brown eyes looked up into his, with that same sad look she always wore.
"You. You're what's wrong with me." George grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards him. With an urgency, he hadn't been aware of feeling he lowered his lips to hers. She closed her eyes, right before their lips met, slightly parted. His tongue went across her teeth, and touched her tongue lightly.
She pulled away from him, her breasts heaving as she stood there breathless. Smiling, leaned her forehead to his and they stood there both of them breathing and looking at each other. Moving away, she backed to the door. "Goodnight George," and with that she disappeared around the corner.
