Recap: Shawn Parkinson, Slytherin seventh year/cousin to the infamous Pansy Parkinson, and his friend were caught attacking a muggle-born Slytherin student at the first Hogsmeade visit of the year. Harry confiscated their wands and assigned them three detentions each where they had to read from the Muggle Studies textbook. Parkinson still has yet to complete or even start the three detentions, and consequently, still does not have his wand back.
Wednesday, December 1
With the first day of December always came the onslaught of festive spirit and the thought of the looming holidays became too close to be able to ignore. As the oldest of a rather large family, Bill Weasley met this familiar sensation with both excitement and dread. Of course, he loved the holidays with all the cozy greetings and warm cheer, but it also meant having to think of quite a few presents to buy. Especially now that he was married, he and Fleur had the Delacours and the Weasleys to think of.
He strode through the Hogwarts corridors, his mind wandered to the windows of Diagon Alley, trying to rack his brain for the perfect gift for anyone, yet not for the first time, he came up blank. He smiled at the students who greeted him on their way to the Great Hall, letting the smile fade as quickly as it came and allowing himself to continue wandering through random ideas that popped into his head.
Yet frustratingly, nothing good came to mind. He scowled at the stones that passed underneath his feet, determined to think of something. But still: nothing.
Miraculously, he found himself at the door to his classroom, not fully sure how he had gotten there, but deigned not to question his success. Instead, he pulled the door open and took a great amount of satisfaction from hearing it slam noisily behind him. He walked across the room through the rows of desks and took the issue philosophically. Something will come to him eventually. And if not, he will just have to look around shops until he finds something somewhat decent.
With a renewed motivation, he turned to the desk running along the side of the room and grimaced. Once again, his piles of papers were out of place. They may look like there was no organization to them, but Bill could tell anyone who asked exactly where to find anything they needed. Every object had its place. He really must tell Harry to stop messing with his things, he thought.
Thump! Bill jerked his head to the right towards where the noise appeared to come from and his brows furrowed slightly, ruining his carefully constructed expression of nonchalance. He crept up the curved stairs to the offices and saw that the door to Harry's office was resting slightly ajar.
Excellent. I'll have a word with Harry now, he thought. If he had his wits about him though, he would have realized that there was a very small probability Harry was at Hogwarts in the middle of the lunch period when he should be at Auror Headquarters. Nonetheless, he was still quite distracted and he shoved the door open with his shoulder, already prepared to admonish the wizard, no matter how famous he may be.
"Harry! I thought I told…," he stopped mid sentence. "Parkinson," he amended once he didn't see the black-haired teen, but rather another teen wearing his student robes and a green and silver tie. Bill's eyes squinted at his student and the boy grew very red as he fumbled with the stack of books he had evidently dropped on the floor.
"Professor," he greeted coldly, seeing no way out of his predicament.
"May I ask what you're doing here?" Bill crossed his arms and tilted his head at the shorter wizard, watching him carefully place the books back on the shelf.
"I was… going to leave a note for Potter… about planning my next detention," he said, face turned away from Bill.
"It's Professor Potter to you," he said with careful emphasis. "And I happen to know that your detentions are scheduled quite regularly. Every Thursday afternoon, in fact." Bill left the statement hanging in the air, determined not to fill the empty space with his own words, choosing instead to wait for Parkinson to speak.
"I… wanted to change it this week," he said, finally meeting Bill's questioning gaze with defiance.
"And why is that?"
"I'm busy tomorrow."
"With what?" But Bill didn't even wait for an answer. Instead, he plowed ahead while taking a step towards him. "Because I thought that maybe you had come to try and steal your wand back so that you didn't have to do the detentions any longer."
Parkinson stared at his Professor, all the color drained from his face.
"What… no… I was… just writing a note to change the time of-"
"Then where is this note?"
Bill raised his eyebrows at Parkinson, and watched his shoulders slump forward.
"I see," Bill continued coldly. "I'll have you know, by the way, that Professor Potter is smarter than you apparently give him credit for because he did not hide your wand away behind a pile of books. I'll be letting him know that you were in here and I believe another three detentions are in order, this time with me."
Parkinson's eyes fell to the floor and he took a cautious step towards the door, hoping beyond hope that they were done.
"Wait one moment, Parkinson," Bill said, holding up a hand. "We still need to schedule this and I don't really trust you with notes. My office, Monday afternoon after class." Parkinson nodded duly and took another step. "And another forty points from Slytherin."
With a last scowl, Parkinson left Harry's office and his calculated walk turned into a frantic jog as he left the classroom eagerly with his heart pounding.
Thursday, December 2
Harry looked up gratefully from the exam he was grading where a student was on verge of failing as the door to the classroom squeaked open somewhere below his office.
"Professor?" A harsh voice called with a few scarce traces of politeness. Harry sighed and collected his things before heading out of his office down the stairs into the classroom.
"Good afternoon, Parkinson," Harry said curtly to the student poised at the edge of the room, clearly wary of coming any closer. "Here to watch me grade papers for another few hours are we?"
Parkinson stepped forward the length of another desk and biting his lip, looked at Harry appraisingly.
"What?" Harry asked, staring at the student that was clearly staring at him. "Do I have food in my teeth or something?"
"No… sir," he said after a pause.
Harry started slightly at the title. Parkinson had shown nothing but contempt towards him and had barely even called him Professor in the past.
"I'm… er… I'm sorry," Parkinson mumbled quietly, no longer meeting his eye. Perfectly content to hear this apology out, Harry said nothing and leaned back against the desk with his arms crossed, forcing the student to continue. "I shouldn't have broken into your office to look for my wand."
He gazed at Parkinson, watching both of his hands clutch nervously on the lip of his book bag, and Harry tilted his head slightly, both bemused and impressed by this turn of events. "Yes, well it was a rather stupid thing to do."
Parkinson gave a half-hearted, tight lipped smile and crossed the rest of the classroom.
"For future reference, I do have quite a few spells around my office so even if Professor Weasley isn't there to catch you red-handed, I would have known you went in. I certainly wouldn't try anything of the sorts again," Harry added conversationally.
"Understood, sir." Parkinson nodded and sat in one of the seats directly in front of Harry who was currently leaning against the front desk.
"Should I even bother getting the textbook down for you today?" Harry asked with no effort to hide his exasperation. "I rather hoped to be done with this routine by now. I'm quite bored of it to tell you the truth."
Parkinson chuckled softly and nodded slightly. "Sure… I mean yes." Harry smiled authentically for the first time since the boy had walked into the room and flicked his wand. He turned to grab the book as it zoomed towards him, then pushed himself off the desk and slid the book in front of the Slytherin.
"Take your pick of two chapters and get started," Harry directed lightly and watched with a grim satisfaction as Parkinson pulled the book towards him and flipped idly to the table of contents. It really was rather foolish of him to think that he could ever out-stubborn me, Harry thought with a wry smile.
Harry sank into the seat behind the large desk and regretfully picked up the exam towards him once more, mindlessly crossing out yet another question as the student confused the Impedimenta jinx with the Impervius charm, essentially rendering their following paragraph as utter nonsense.
Painfully, Harry worked his way through the remaining class of exams and slammed his pen onto the wooden surface of his desk with a sigh of relief once he had finally graded the last paper. Parkinson started at the sound but quickly turned back to the book and slid his chin into his hand lazily.
"I'll be right back," Harry said quietly and stood from his desk, carrying the stack of papers with him up to his office and setting them down randomly before opening a drawer and withdrawing a faded page of parchment. He tapped his wand to the page and muttered the familiar phrase, then unfolded the pages. Harry peered anxiously at the library first, scanning the names he saw on the revealed names, before turning to the Gryffindor Common Room and finding who he was looking for. He wiped the Marauder's Map clean and returned to the classroom, sinking back into his seat, now waiting impatiently for Parkinson to finish.
Harry peered at him from under his glasses, trying not to rush him, but noticing how torturously slowly he turned the pages, taking minutes upon minutes to read each page. Harry tossed his wand, watching it flip mid air, before catching it deftly in his hand again. Every time he did so, he'd glance at Parkinson who continued to read, his eyes seeming to barely move.
Somehow knowing that he would still be here for a while, Harry begrudgingly figured he might as well get some more work done. He stood from his seat and grabbed the useful calendar Bill kept on top of one of his piles and dropped it onto his desk, determined to plan out his next month of lessons extending up to the winter holiday. Sadly, he knew that he had to squeeze in a few more 'boring' lessons along with the practical ones that everyone (including him) enjoyed much more thoroughly.
When he had mapped out the next few weeks of lessons, Harry looked up hopefully to see if he saw Parkinson's face, ready to answer his quick quiz. But, no such luck. His head was still bowed so that all Harry could see was his forehead and his dark hair. Harry drummed his fingers against the wood and cast his mind around, hoping some task would come to him to distract him. His eyes lit up as he saw the day-old Daily Prophet that Bill had left on the desk at the side of the room and quickly had it soaring towards him.
I have got to remember to put these back! Harry nagged himself while turning blindly to a section at the back that he hadn't had a chance to read through the day prior.
Eventually, Parkinson finished reading his two selected chapters and coughed pointedly to get Harry's attention.
"Two more detentions to go, Parkinson," Harry said after he had finished quizzing the Slytherin.
"I'll… er… see you next Thursday, Professor," he muttered, quickly glancing at him before looking away again.
"Yes you will. Looks like we can put this matter behind us before the holidays," he added conversationally.
"Yeah, right…," Parkinson shifted awkwardly and glanced at the door with what he clearly thought was subtlety.
"Off you go," Harry urged and he nodded gratefully before scurrying from the room. Harry gave him a minute's head start before hurrying after him. He looked both ways down a corridor before tugging on a portrait and stepping through the shortcut ending on the sixth floor. He swung another portrait open on the other side of the passage, ignoring the painted woman's protests from inside the frame, and snapped it shut as unobtrusively as he could.
Much to his own misfortune, a gaggle of three Ravenclaws were strolling through the corridor behind him and they stopped suddenly as Harry Potter appeared, apparently out of nowhere. He gave them a smile, then turned on his heel and strode quickly away, hearing their footsteps approach the cluster of portraits behind him, quickly trying to find which one he slipped out of.
"I thought all the secret passageways were destroyed in the battle!" one whispered urgently, her voice carrying down the empty hall. Harry shook his head bemusedly, wondering how any student made it through a month, let alone a year, of Hogwarts without having a vast knowledge of secret passageways. Besides, only a few were destroyed in the Battle of Hogwarts. It was absurd to Harry that anyone could believe that only those few secret passageways existed in the entire castle.
"Phoenix flame," Harry said to the Fat Lady. Ignoring her slightly slurred greetings, he stepped through the portrait hole into the familiar roar of the Common Room of students milling about together, talking noisily and playing together. At a table near the window, away from some of the chaos, sat three seventh years. He started heading their way, nodding quick greetings to a few students as he stepped past them.
"Harry! Oh… I mean, Professor!" Dennis called with a smile.
"Afternoon, Creevey," Harry said with a nod and a smile. He leaned over and grabbed a chair from a nearby desk. "Can I borrow this?" He asked no one in particular before swinging it around and landing it with a plop beside Hermione at their table.
"Hi Harry," she said without looking up from a textbook. Ginny gave him a small wave from across the table, then continued with her somewhat heated discussion with Cass.
"Hey," he grinned. "What are you up to?"
"Homework," she replied briskly. He peered over her shoulder to read the title of the chapter she was currently absorbing.
"History of Gringotts Bank? Why in Merlin's Beard are you still taking a History of Magic?" he asked incredulously.
"It's fascinating! Besides, if I want a job anywhere in magical law I need a NEWT in the subject."
He waved her defense aside before slumping against the table, bored again. "What's your essay about?" He asked, mostly to fill the empty space.
Hermione looked up from her paper and gave him a wry smile. "Their security measures." Harry couldn't help himself but snort loudly and Hermione joined him, laughing at the sheer irony of her assignment.
"I reckon you can give a pretty detailed account of most of those along with how to get past them," Harry said through heavy heaves of laughter. Ginny and Cass had stopped bickering to stare at them, as had the majority of the students in the Common Room.
"Let me see what you wrote," Harry said once they had finally regained some control of their heaving chuckles.
"No!" she said, snatching the paper away from him. "I'm not done yet!"
"Come on! I want to see how you described that waterfall." He was still grinning madly and Hermione was hard pressed to maintain a stern expression rather than give in and laugh over her essay.
"You know, I thought that I'd be able to actually focus and get some work done this year since you weren't a student, but oh how wrong I was," she lamented, letting a grin slip back onto her face.
"At least you don't have to worry about a lunatic trying to do me in this year," Harry retorted with a similar grin.
"Wasn't there that Death Eater that attacked you just a bit ago in the Ministry?" Ginny interrupted before Hermione got a chance to reply.
"Well yeah," he shrugged. "But that was just one Death Eater."
Cass leaned towards him, slightly in awe with her eyes wide. Ginny scoffed haughtily at her friend's reaction, but Cass didn't notice.
"Weren't you scared?" she whispered, her own homework long forgotten.
Harry looked at her quickly, then glanced at Ginny's expression, clearly on the verge of giggling. "Not really," he said lightly. "I've already lived a lot longer than I thought I would."
That set Ginny over the edge and she snorted loudly, collapsing in a fit of mirth with Cass retracting her eager face and replacing it with one of bewilderment. Hermione looked at Harry appraisingly, then rolled her eyes and turned back to her essay.
"That's the spirit!" Ginny said, her eyes alight and reached over to high five him loudly. Harry grinned and was far too distracted to notice the first year student who approached their table warily.
"Ex-excuse me?" he said quietly. The four Gryffindors turned towards him, two of which were barely containing another fit of laughter. "I was told to give these to you." He held out a stack of envelopes with his face gradually growing redder.
"Thank you," Hermione said graciously and took the stack from him. The young boy quickly shuffled away with many backward glances at their secluded corner. "Here." She handed one envelope to Harry and another to Ginny while keeping the third to herself.
Harry took it apprehensively. The envelope was a shimmering pale gold with silver swirls encompassing the edges and in the center, the words "To Mr. Harry Potter" were written in an ostentatious scrawl.
"Bet I can guess what this is for," Ginny said darkly while tearing her envelope open. Harry and Hermione looked at her curiously. "Yup! It's the invitation to Slughorn's Christmas Party!" she said victoriously, slamming the letter into the desk.
Harry tore open his own and read a similar message, formally inviting him to his party.
"There is no way I am going!" Harry said, instantly annoyed.
"Oh come on, Harry! Hermione and I will go!" Ginny moaned, before looking to Hermione for confirmation. "Right?"
"Yes. I suppose I should go," she said carefully. Harry sent her a withering gaze and she explained further. "Well, we are Head Girls and Slughorn is still our Professor so we shouldn't make him angry with us. Plus, it could help me get a job after I graduate."
"You're Hermione. You'll get a job," he scoffed.
"Even so, I'm going," she said definitively.
"Please, Harry! Come with us!" Ginny said, tilting her head to the side and scooching her chair closer to his. He opened his mouth to reply, but she interrupted: "We can go together! You can be my date! As a friend, I mean," she added hurriedly, seeing his startled expression.
Harry felt a burning regret that he hadn't reacted quick enough to accept her offer as a date, but pushed the thought aside hastily. Hermione smirked to herself, but kept her head down so that her two friends wouldn't see how foolish she thought they were being.
"Slughorn is just going to want to show me off or get me to publish a book or something," Harry grumbled.
"Then we'll make a game of it! We can take bets on how many times he calls you 'the Chosen One' or slides something in to suggest he was the secret to your success all along," Ginny pushed with a grin.
"What are we betting, then?" Harry asked, suddenly intrigued.
"Doesn't matter as long as you agree to come," Ginny said, grabbing onto his sudden hint at a chance.
"Fine… I'll come," he relented. Ginny grinned victoriously and nodded with satisfaction.
"You know, Harry," Hermione said carefully, weighing every word. "You really shouldn't be seen lounging in the Common Room. You are a Professor now and the kids need to respect you as a figure of authority." She watched Harry and Ginny cautiously, raising an eyebrow at the latter, hoping she would take the hint and drag Harry out so that they could get some alone time.
Instead, Ginny ignored her hint and replied, quite obliviously, "I think they already respect him, Hermione." She glanced purposefully around the room, and sure enough, at least half of the students gathered were still sneaking glances at him.
Saturday, December 4
Diagon Alley was cast in a dark shadow under ominous clouds scudding across a gray sky, threatening to pelt them all with rain at any moment. But George took this all in his stride.
"What a cheerful morning to open shop!" he said as he, Ron, and Harry hid under the awning of the first store on the street. "At least if it rains, all the shoppers will want to get inside!" He led the way, bounding with energy, down the street that was still rather empty in the early hours of morning with Ron and Harry falling into step beside him.
He pulled open the cherry colored door and shoved it open behind him so that Harry and Ron could slide in before it locked itself shut again. The shelves were neatly arranged once more, painted in bright colors, and filled to the brim with products in equally bright boxes. George sprinted up the stairs two at a time, humming to himself, and leaving Ron and Harry standing aimlessly at the front of the store.
"He's in a good mood," Ron remarked.
"It's probably good for him to have this as a distraction," Harry commented, peering curiously around at the shelves nearest him.
"Well, are you two actually going to help or just stand there looking pretty?" George shouted down at them, his head just poking out from over the banister.
"Well what do you want us to do!?" Ron shouted back.
"Clean the floor and the shelves! We can't have any dust. Oh! And keep an eye out for Verity. She should be coming any minute now," George ordered quickly before disappearing from view.
"All right then," Ron said under his breath to Harry. They pulled out their wands and began a slow circle around the ground floor of the store, looking for anything that needed a good scrubbing down. Naturally, it was already spotless considering George and Verity had both been practically living at the store for the past week. Within a few minutes as predicted, Verity knocked promptly on the door and headed immediately up the steps after George, leaving the two wizards to wander through the store until 11:45, at which time George reemerged from the upper level of the store, Verity following behind him dutifully.
"Right-io!" He called, clapping his hands together with a smile. "How's it looking?"
"All good down here," Ron reported. But George paid him no mind, instead he peered outside through the glass at the small crowd forming under the bright banner counting down the minutes until their imminent arrival and the promise of holiday bargains.
"Verity will be manning the counter and I'll step in to help there if needed. Otherwise, I'll be roaming the store, answering questions and gently persuading the happy customers to buy more stuff!" George explained heartily.
Harry and Ron nodded, watching George continue to gaze around the store, clearly looking for something to do.
"I'll get the cash box, Mr. Weasley," Verity said before rushing to the back. She returned promptly with the box in question and stationed herself behind the counter, nodding once to 'Mr. Weasley' with an anxious smile.
George nodded back from his position beside the door, glanced at his watch and waited for a few seconds, then with a deep breath, tore the door open with open arms.
"Welcome! Welcome! To Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!" he called as the customers streamed in. "New products are on the left! Skiving snackboxes are buy one, get one free! Fanged frisbees are half off! Extendable ears are straight up front!" Children grabbed their parents' by the hand and tugged them towards one corner or another, fingers already out, happily pointing at something.
"Oh George!" Mrs. Weasley said, hurrying through the door behind another small family, arms extended with her hands urging George towards her.
"Hey Mum!" he said, hugging her quickly before calling over her shoulder. "Those are twenty-five percent off ma'am! A perfect holiday gift!" The woman smiled at him and took another.
"We're so proud of you, sweetie!" Mrs. Weasley crooned, calling his attention back to his parents.
"Thanks. Hi Dad," George said distractedly.
"Come on Molly, let's leave him be," Mr. Weasley said to his wife. "We'll see you later, George!" Their son nodded before striding off towards a cluster of kids, talking animatedly around a stand of Headless Hats.
"There's Ron and Harry," Mr. Weasley pointed to them, standing against a wall under the stairs, watching the store grow rather crowded. The two Weasleys made their way through the hurried customers towards the two wizards.
"HARRY!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. Harry turned towards them, Ron poking his head out from behind him. "Are you okay? Arthur told me all about that Death Eater who attacked you! It had me worried sick!" She immediately had Harry wrapped in a giant bear hug and plenty of heads turned towards them curiously.
"I'm fine. Really, Mrs. Weasley," he said chuckling slightly. "I'm fine!"
"Bill!" Ron called, interrupting her fretting and waving at the redhead who had just entered the shop.
"Hello everyone! Good to see you," he said and Fleur waved lightly at them. "Why is Mom patting Harry down?" Mrs. Weasley was still stroking Harry's arms fervently.
"She was nervous about the Death Eater that attacked him a bit ago at the Ministry," Mr. Weasley responded after releasing Fleur from a fatherly embrace.
"Ah. Well business looks good," Bill said cheerfully, drawing his Mum's attention away from Harry, allowing him to step back and switch places with Ron.
"I've been meaning to tell you, thanks for catching Parkinson the other day," Harry said, pulling Bill aside.
Bill shrugged. "Sure. Not the brightest fellow, is he?"
"Well, at least he finally agreed to actually do the detention."
"And I've been meaning to tell you something too." Bill said and Harry looked up at the taller wizard curiously. "Can you stop messing with my piles of things in the classroom?"
"Oh… right," Harry replied contritely with a sheepish grin, remembering the few things he had forgotten to place back. "Sorry about that."
Percy found their clump in the store next and greeted them heartily, wearing his typical crisp tie under his dress robes. George walked briskly past them, giving a quick wave before continuing on his way to a nearby table.
"Ah! Decoy Detonators!" He said encouragingly to a group surrounding a purple table filled with the small black figures. "You know, Harry Potter used these quite a lot in his time at school and against you-know-who." Suddenly, the customers were much more intrigued.
"Really, George?" Harry said loudly, just enough so that he could be heard. Ron snorted but George simply shrugged, extremely unconcerned with his marketing tactics and Harry couldn't help but shake his head as the young kids grabbed onto at least three each.
Rain had begun to pelt against the store windows, adding to the loud din inside the building. The Weasley group moved slowly about the store, not getting in the way of customers, but looking at every shelf all the same. A few hours later, after the customers were replaced with new groups of shoppers, George approached them, clearly exhausted yet thrilled.
"You've drawn quite the crowd!" Percy said boisterously, holding out his hand to his younger brother.
"Yeah! We're doing well!" George agreed, taking his proffered hand and shaking it. "Almost sold out of the Holiday Special Skiving Snackboxes already!"
"That's great dear!" Mrs. Weasley said warmly.
"Thanks for coming, everyone," George said, giving them all a smile.
"We wouldn't miss it," Bill replied, dropping a hand onto his shoulder.
"While we're here, zough…," Fleur started with a significant glance at her husband.
"Oh, yes! We have some errands to run so we'll see you all later!" The rest of the group chrosued their jumbled goodbyes as the couple wound their way back through the front door and disappeared into the crowd of holiday shoppers. Eventually, the rest of the Weasleys slowly filtered out along with the customers as the sky darkened and the shadows grew longer. Finally, George closed the door, setting the small bell jingling, behind the last customer and only he, Verity, Ron, and Harry remained.
George turned with a satisfied smile at the once precisely ordered room, now lacking substantial amounts of products on the shelves. With his hands on his hips, George nodded to himself, evidently pleased.
"How'd we do?" He asked Verity who was perched on a stool behind the counter.
"Brilliant, Mr. Weasley. Although… we might want to look into hiring another helper," she said cautiously, hoping not to reawaken any bouts of sorrow.
"Yes. It was rather difficult with just the two of us, wasn't it?" George responded cheerfully, gracing over the hidden subtext. "I'll look into that. I'll head to the back and start restocking for tomorrow." Verity nodded and followed with the cash box in hand.
"Oh! I might be here a bit longer so feel free to leave whenever," George called over his shoulder. With a shared shrug to each other, Ron and Harry stepped into the street and disappeared on the spot.
Hours later, when the sky was painted a deep black and both Ron and Harry had fallen asleep, the front door to Grimmauld Place creaked open and George slipped into the entry hall as quietly as he could. Dark shadows cascaded around the room, and not wanting to risk lighting his wand tip, he placed a hand on the wall as a guide as he walked, letting it drag along beside him. The steps groaned softly under his weight and he grimaced as a floorboard protested rather loudly. He paused, ears pricked and listening for any sounds that someone had awoken. With a sigh of relief, he continued on his way and managed to make it into the drawing room and collapsed into a plush armchair, head in his hands.
His legs were exhausted from standing for hours on end and his body felt thoroughly drained from maintaining his cheerful facade for so long and in front of so many people. His mind was a confusing jumble with a storm of emotions brewing and he couldn't quite make out what exactly he was feeling. All he knew is that he didn't like it.
George tried to stay quiet to not disturb the others, but he couldn't help the tears that fell from his cheeks. Slowly at first, then large racking sobs shook his shoulders, covering the sounds of footsteps approaching the room.
Harry pushed the drawing room door open slightly wider and a bright light flooded the room, forcing George to raise an arm to cover his eyes as they adjusted.
"George?" Harry said cautiously. "Are you-" Then he cut himself off and inwardly cursed himself for asking such a stupid question. He was sobbing in the dark, well past midnight. Of course he was not alright. "Do you want some company?" he asked instead.
George had sunk further into the armchair and was sprawled against the back, not bothering to hide his tear-stained face.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," he croaked softly.
"Oh, that's alright. I was already awake," he lied. In truth, he had become quite the light sleeper after a year of tense camping where needing to be alert at the smallest sound had become their lifeline. George didn't respond to his question, and after a moment of hesitation, Harry pushed the door open further and sunk into the couch near him. He carefully set his wand on the table in between the chair and the sofa so that the room was still lit.
George kept his head hanging over the back of the cushion, keeping his eyes shut so that he couldn't see Harry. But he heard his steps grow closer and heard the couch groan as the young wizard sat.
Harry rubbed his hands over his knees awkwardly, feeling thoroughly out of place but not knowing what to do about it. "Do you want to talk?" he asked finally, his voice at a regular volume that seemed like a shout in the silence.
George looked up startled, and glanced purposefully at the open door.
"Oh, don't worry about Ron," Harry said with a casual wave of his hand. "He can sleep through anything."
George nodded, somewhat assured by his confidence and leaned forward once more so that his elbows rested on his knees. He took a shaky breath, but Harry saw more tears splash onto his arms. He was obviously trying to hide his tears, so Harry looked away. But then it was obvious that he knew he was crying, so looking away felt foolish too. Harry opened his mouth, hoping something inspired would come out, but closed it again when nothing came to him.
"I just…," George said suddenly. "I miss him so much." He looked up at Harry, his eyes red and puffy and his hands clasped in front of him.
Harry looked at him sorrowfully and replied quietly, "I know." His throat constricted and he felt a sharp pang in his chest for George's grief that somehow melded into his own.
"I can't…," George started softly before his shoulders shook violently and a sob escaped from his lips. Harry scooted closer to the edge of the couch and laid a comforting hand on his leg, just above his knee. "I can't do this… without him." His voice was barely audible, smothered both by his shaky voice and his hands that covered his face.
"I know the feeling," Harry said bitterly. Suddenly, a rush of grief enveloped him and a similar sense of impotence threatened to drown him. Sirius' face swirled into his subconscious and he was transported back into Dumbledore's office after that fateful night at the Ministry. Salty tears began to drip down Harry's own face and the two wizards were both overcome with grief. Neither said a word, but took strength in the other's presence and even as their eyelids grew heavy, neither moved.
And that's how Ron found them the following morning. Harry had slumped over the arm of the couch and George snored loudly next to him, his head lulling back over the cushion. With a sigh to himself, Ron busied himself in the kitchen and made two cups of steaming tea that he then placed carefully on the table next to them both before disappearing back out of the room.
Harry stirred as Ron shut the door softly behind him. He groaned at his aching joints from the uncomfortable position he fell asleep in and tugged off his glasses to rub at the sore spots on his nose where the metal had dug into his skin. With his glasses back on, Harry saw the mug of tea in front of him for the first time and smiled at Ron's compassion.
"George," Harry whispered softly and nudged his leg. "Ron's made us tea."
Groaning, George came to his senses and blinked rapidly, stretching the skin dried from tears. He grabbed the second mug and took a long, appreciative sip.
"Remind me not to fall asleep over a chair," George said, raising a hand to massage the back of his neck.
"Or the edge of a couch," Harry added, tilting his head from side to side to work out the kinks.
"Or the edge of a cuoh," George parotted quietly. "What time is it?"
"No idea," Harry replied.
Both wizards took long drafts of their comforting tea, pressing their palms against the porcelain to warm them.
"I don't think I'm going to open the shop today," George confessed without warning.
Harry looked at him startled. "What? But isn't Verity already going?" He asked, knowing that that isn't what worried him.
"I can tell her easily enough. But I meant what I said last night. I just… I can't do it without him." George peered earnestly into his mug of tea so as not to see Harry's reaction.
Harry paused for a moment and looked at George. "Okay," he said.
George's head snapped up. "What?"
"Okay," he repeated simply with a shrug. "I know that you can do it without him and you know that too. But if you don't feel up to it, then… then 'okay.'"
George turned back to his mug of tea feeling thoroughly confused. He had expected more resistance.
"But if it's a matter of not being able to do it alone," Harry continued. "Then that's not really a problem 'cause Ron and I will come help for today and after that, you can hire more people to help around."
"You don't have to-" George began to protest out of pure politeness.
"No really! I'll tell every customer that every product was key to helping me defeat Voldemort. Things will fly off the shelves!" Harry said with a grin.
"Well don't say his name in the store. People still aren't ready for that," George chided with a half-hearted smile.
"So does that mean you're in?"
George continued to stare into his tea and bit his lip slightly. Finally he took a sip and slammed it back onto the table.
"Deal," he said.
"Brilliant! I'll make a great salesman," Harry said with an easy smile and jumping to his feet.
"You're awfully cheerful for not being a morning person," George muttered darkly. But, he pushed himself to his feet and followed Harry out the door and into the kitchen without complaints.
I'm curious, did you like the recap at the beginning or is it unnecessary/distracting? Please let me know! Reviews, suggestions, comments are always appreciated and loved!
Next chapter has some really cute Hinny stuff and is partially from Ron's perspective.