Monday, April 1
George woke, sprawled across his bed, and stared numbly at the cream-colored ceiling. This day had been taunting him for the past month, slowly edging itself forward until it finally came, and now that it was here, he was no more prepared than he was weeks ago. Pale sunlight permeated through the crack in the curtains, hidden by clouds mimicking the dour mood of the day.
Today was the first birthday that George would have to celebrate without his twin. The first of many, as he was painfully aware.
If he didn't dread the day itself enough, he was dreading the awkwardness that he knew was inevitable: the worried glances, the avoiding eye contact, and the skirting around the obvious. He wasn't sure if he could handle it, yet he knew that he fully well couldn't handle a full day in bed. His energy was incorrigible and his restlessness incurable.
With an enormous amount of effort, he flipped his blankets open and swung his legs over the bed with his hands gripping the edge so tight that his knuckles began to turn white. His legs were made of lead and his chest was heavy, yet his face was taut and expressionless, but purposefully so. With a deep sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled to his closet, pulling out a shirt at random.
He turned and just as he went to shut the door, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and froze. His heart skipped a beat and there was a sharp intake of breath.
For a moment, a fleeting yet blissful moment, he didn't see his missing ear and his barely opened eyes looked slightly smaller. There was the same flash of bright red hair and the same nose, making him believe for the splittest second that maybe, just maybe, he had his brother back.
His shirt dropped from limp fingers as he stared at his reflection. A hand reached up to graze the hole in the side of his head where an ear should be. It dropped back to his side and the other reached out to touch the cold mirror and George found himself wishing that the mirror wouldn't raise its arm when he did.
But of course, it did.
He sunk to his knees, sitting awkwardly with his feet tucked under him, and he left one hand on the mirror's surface. His head drooped and his shoulders shook violently. Silent but salty tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the carpet, washing the sleep from his eyes.
Not a day goes by that I don't miss you, he thought to himself. Not a single day.
For a few moments, the pain may be pushed to the side while he focuses on something else, but it always returns, stronger than before with an added level of guilt for forgetting him in even the briefest of moments. And then, when he thinks that he has learned to live with it, someone makes a joke, he passes by an old picture, or he sees himself in the mirror, and he knows that he will never learn to live with it.
"Do you think I should go check on him?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.
"No, I'd leave him for a bit," Harry responded, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees.
Ron nodded, his mouth curved into a frown. Both were quiet, lost in their own thoughts and grief that they were too afraid to share because they knew it paled in comparison to George's.
"Are you sure?" Ron eventually asked anxiously.
"He probably wants to be alone right now," Harry said. "I'd wait until later."
Ron nodded again. "How much later?"
"I don't know, Ron! Just later!" he snapped irritably. "Give him some time and then bring up some cocoa or breakfast or something."
"Okay… yeah, I'll make him some cocoa. He likes it with whipped cream and he always gets extra marshmallows," Ron said wistfully.
"Great." Harry stood abruptly from the couch in the drawing room. "I should get going. Tell me if you need me or if he needs me. I can be back in a minute."
"I will," Ron promised. He stood too and carried his empty breakfast plate into the kitchen to see Harry off.
Ron was taking today off of work to stay home with George, who also wasn't going into his store for a few days. Harry, as much as he wanted to stay home with George too, agreed to go to the office so that at least one of them was there today. Besides, George would need his family today, even if he turned down his mother's offer to host a birthday dinner at the Burrow with everyone. George was adamant that he do nothing to celebrate his birthday: no presents, no party. Nothing. And when most people say they want nothing, they say it feebly with hardly any conviction. But they all knew that George meant what he said, so they had listened and complied.
"I'm going now, Mollywobbles," Arthur Weasley said. He leaned over her chair with a hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead lightly. "I'll see you tonight."
She patted his hand with hers as a goodbye, not trusting herself to speak. Mr. Weasley straightened up and gazed over her shoulder, following her line of sight into her lap. There was a picture frame of a young Fred and George, laughing at the camera with identical smiles. Fred was holding bunny ears behind George's head and George was reaching blindly behind him to try and shove his brother's arm back down. They were sitting behind a homemade cake with ten candles stuck around its edge, their small flames lighting their freckled faces that were already alight with glee.
A knot caught in Arthur's throat and he wordlessly squeezed her shoulder once more before turning and striding towards the fireplace, the image seared into his brain promising to stay with him for the rest of the day.
With the whooshing sound and burst of light died down from behind her, Molly set the frame so that it stood on the table in front of her. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth and the tears began to fall freely from her eyes and into her lap.
"Oh, my boys," she whispered. "My sweet, sweet boys."
Ron raised a fist and held it, poised just before the door. He wondered, not for the first time in the past ten minutes, how much later is later? He shrugged off his uncertainty and committed himself, knocking softly on the door.
"George?" he asked. "Can I come in? I made some cocoa."
There was a faint shuffling and later a hoarse voice. "Sure."
He pushed open the door using his shoulder and levitated the two mugs of cocoa ahead of him. When he turned around and let the door swing shut behind him, he found George sitting on his bed with his back to the headboard. His eyes were closed, his cheeks were blotchy, and his hands rested, one on top of the other, in his lap.
"I… er… made some cocoa," said Ron with a weak smile and nodded towards the floating cups as proof.
George opened his eyes and sniffed. "Thanks." He quickly maneuvered himself so that he sat on the edge of his bed and took one of the mug:, the one with the largest mountain of whipped cream, of course.
Ron perched on the edge next to him carefully and slurped loudly from his cocoa. George glanced sideways at him but, as a mark to the somber day, said nothing. Instead, he sipped from his own mug and let the warm sweetness fill his body.
"So, how er… how are… you?" Ron asked lamely. Too little too late he realized that all this time he had been wondering how to define later, but he had given no thought as to what he would actually say once he got into the room.
George looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" he asked with a pointed sip of cocoa.
"Sorry," came Ron's sheepish reply. "I guess that is a rather stupid question at the moment."
George scoffed and rolled his eyes. Meanwhile, Ron kept an ever present gaze on his brother.
After a moment or two of awkward silence, George rested his mug against his leg and said, "So, how are you?"
"What?" Ron replied, startled. "What do you mean?"
"What did you mean when you asked me?" George shrugged.
"Well… I meant how are you 'cause, you know, it's- it's your first birthday with- without Fred."
"And I asked the same question to you."
Ron's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "But-"
"You're allowed to be sad too, you know," George said bitterly, cutting him off. Then he turned resolutely away from Ron and faced the opposite wall. "Everyone is always so careful around me and wants to make sure I'm okay without him- which I'm not and I won't be for a while, by the way." George's tear-stained face scowled in a flash of anger. "But then, everyone is so worried about me that no one else is mourning him!" He flung out a hand angrily.
Ron nodded slowly and turned to face the same wall, mulling George's outburst over in his mind. Eventually, he whispered, "I miss him too... You're right, I try not to show it in front of you but… I miss him. Everyday."
George's shoulders slumped, but some tension was released from his shoulders as someone finally, finally mentioned Fred honestly in front of him. "Me too," George agreed quietly.
"And sometimes, when I look at you," Ron added. "For a second, I think I see him and I get so bloody happy. And then when I remember, it feels like the day it happened all over again."
George nodded miserably. "That happened to me earlier when I saw myself in the mirror."
They both sipped from their cocoa, the silence much more bearable now that some of the obvious was cleared away.
George drained the last of his mug. "Thanks for the cocoa," he said dully.
"Sure," Ron replied in the same heavy tone. "Do you want some breakfast? Or, I guess lunch at this point?"
George sighed heavily and wiped a hand across the dry patches in the corner of his eyes where his tears had cracked his skin. "Why not?" He pushed himself to his feet and followed Ron out of the room.
Ginny mindlessly shoveled her lunch into her mouth, barely chewing before she swallowed. Cass and Hailey chatted amicably beside her and Hermione was stuck somewhere in between- quiet, yet determined to be supportive of Ginny.
All morning, Ginny had sulked. She was quick to tell of first years for disrupting the common room and Hermione had to step in before she berated some second-years for walking too slowly in the halls. Then she froze mid step when a Hufflepuff boy wrapped an arm around his younger sister in between classes and she sniffed loudly while cursing the pollen for making her allergies act up.
"Will you two keep it down?" Ginny scowled at Cass and Hailey as they erupted into a fit of giggles.
Their heads snapped towards her with their smiles still frozen in place.
"Ginny," Hermione said placatingly. "It's okay, they're just talking."
Cass shook her head so that her hair fell over her shoulder and muttered something about having her wand in a knot while Hailey sent anxious glances between the two before focusing back on Cass.
"They're being loud-" Ginny growled with a pointed look.
"No, they're not," Hermione said shortly, setting her utensils down. "I know that you're on edge today, and rightfully so," she added quickly before Ginny could flare up. "But, that doesn't mean you can take it out on everyone."
"My brother died, Hermione! He is dead and today's his birthday! We're supposed to be celebrating him today! And now… now George is all alone, on his birthday, and I'm here pretending that nothing happened!" she shrieked, gathering a few onlookers. "Pretending that nothing is wrong!"
"I know, Ginny. I know but-"
"Everywhere I look, I see Fred! And everywhere I look, I wonder what I'm doing here, going to school and writing down my homework like it's any other day when I should be… I should be…" She trailed off and her eyes glazed over, her flailing hands freezing in the air.
"Ginny?" Hermione asked cautiously, biting her lip.
"I should be there. With George. So we can celebrate Fred together," she finished.
"But… Ginny. We're- I mean, we're at school. You can't-"
Ginny stood up abruptly. "I should be with George." She turned and started to walk out of the Hall.
"Where are you going? Ginny?" Hermione asked anxiously. She sighed to herself and grabbed both of their bags to hurry after her.
"Ginny!" Hermione called, seeing the Gryffindor taking a flight of stairs two steps at a time ahead of her. "Your bag! You left your bag!?"
"I don't need it!" Ginny called over her shoulder.
"Where are you going!?"
Still, Ginny didn't stop. "I thought that was obvious for a bright witch like you."
"But… we have class! Flitwick-"
"Tell him I'm sick for all I care!"
"UGGH! Fine!" Hermione shouted, stamping her foot in frustration. "But I am not carrying this bag around for you so come grab it before I go and finish my lunch!"
Ginny stopped, and after a moment of hesitation, she turned to hurry back down the corridor towards Hermione.
"See you," Ginny said quickly, grabbing the strap to her bag and tugging, but Hermione wouldn't let go.
"We're not allowed to leave the castle grounds, Ginny." Hermione's voice was low and her eyes were round as a warning.
"It'll be fine." Ginny tugged at the strap again but she didn't budge.
"Just ask Professor McGonagall first."
"But she'll say no."
"If you know she'll say no, then don't go!"
"Ever heard the phrase 'ask for forgiveness, not permission'?" Ginny asked, a spark in her eye.
Hermione rolled her own eyes exasperatedly. "Ginny, you could-"
"I'll be fine," she repeated. "Now give me my bag, or you'll have to carry it around after all."
"Fine! Fine!" Hermione said, lifting her hand and holding them up in surrender. "But don't blame me when someone finds out!"
"I will blame you if you tell anyone," came Ginny's suspicious response.
"Oh, please," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes dramatically. "After all these years of not telling on Harry or Ron, do you really think I'd rat you out? Besides, I don't even know how you're going to get to London."
"Don't pretend. You know exactly how," came Ginny's riposte.
"Well, I hope I'm wrong."
Ginny's mouth quirked into a smile. "Never heard that come out of your mouth."
Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You stubborn, little-"
Ginny cut her off: "See you later!" She sprinted away, up another staircase with her black robe and red hair whipping around the corner.
Hermione shook her head and returned to the Great Hall, still glowering, where she found Luna had taken Ginny's place.
"Where's Ginny?" she asked casually, holding a dripping spoon.
"Not feeling well," Hermione replied through gritted teeth.
"Huh. She seemed alright earlier. A bit tense, but certainly not sick," Luna said thoughtfully.
"A bit tense, indeed," was all that Hermione would give away.
With a mission in mind, all her prior despondency disappeared and her grief took a back seat to her rising hope. Ginny sprinted up the final staircase and then slowed to an inconspicuous walk until she reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom where she withdrew her wand, casting only one furtive glance behind her. Then, she slipped into the room and shut the door softly behind her. She glanced around looking for her eldest brother; but, knowing Bill, he would be in the staff room, chatting with some colleagues until he returned about five minutes before his next class began. When she verified that the room was empty, she raced up the curved steps, her hand hovering just above the banister, and came to a stop outside Harry's office door.
With a quick wave at the lock and a prayed thought of 'Alohomora!', she tried the handle, but it didn't budge. Clearly, he had increased security measures since Parkinson's failed theft attempt.
"Dunamis!" she said aloud, and still the handle wouldn't give.
"Liberare!" Expecting resistance, she flung her body weight onto the handle and felt it give out under her and she stumbled into his office. She shut the door behind her and slung her bag onto the chair opposite his desk before grabbing a handful of floo powder and stepping confidently into the fireplace.
"Number 12, Grimmauld Place!"
Coughing from an unfortunate inhalation of smoke, she stepped out into the kitchen and took a moment to gather her surroundings. After all, it had been months since she had been here. She gave a sad smile at the redecorated kitchen, the new paint lighting up the once dark and gloomy room. Through the slightly open door, she heard the sound of two soft voices floating towards her and she followed them. She went up the first flight of stairs and heard one voice hush another hurriedly, and then the house went oddly still.
Something odd swooped over her and then a whispered voice said, "someone's there."
"It's just me!" she hurriedly called before either one thought she was an attacker. She jogged down the hallway and threw herself in front of the open door so that they could see her. Ron was standing by the door, his wand out and face tense while George had clearly just risen from his seat on the couch.
"Ginny!?" Ron asked incredulously, letting his arm drop back to his side. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
"Just visiting," she shrugged and walked past him into the drawing room.
"But… but… you're supposed to be at school," Ron stammered.
"Hey George," Ginny said lightly, ignoring her other brother for the time being. "Happy twenty-first."
"Hey sis," he said with a weak smile as she sunk into the seat next to him on the sofa.
"I missed your usual April Fool's Day prank today at Hogwarts," she said.
"You should pull one off for me."
"I thought about it, but I am Head Girl so I figured I should follow some of the rules."
"But not the one where you actually have to stay at the school?" Ron asked with an eyebrow raised. He sat in the armchair near the edge of the couch.
"That one I figured I could bend for today." Ginny flicked a long strand of hair over her shoulder.
"Wicked," came George's response with a faint grin.
"But don't you have class right now?" Ron asked.
"It's just one afternoon, it's fine. Honestly, you're getting as bad as Hermione."
"I should have known she would've already tried to convince you," Ron smiled, letting the matter drop.
"Tried and failed!" Ginny said cheerfully.
"Hear, hear!" George chortled, lifting a fist. Then his hand fell limp back against the couch cushion.
"So, what were you up to before I came?" Ginny asked, leaning forward on her elbows.
"Nothing much," Ron shrugged. "Just talking mostly."
Ginny scoffed. "Sounds boring."
George grinned. "It was."
Ron made a defensive mew of protest, so George hastily added, "No offense."
"How about some Exploding Snap instead?" Ginny asked. Her two brothers quickly agreed and Ron went off to find a stack of cards in his bedroom.
The moment Ron turned around the corner and out of sight, Ginny launched herself at George and wrapped him in a tight hug, squeezing her eyes closed and breathing him in. George reacted without thinking and swung his own arms around her, holding her close to his chest and tucking his chin into her shoulder.
"Thanks for coming," he whispered into her hair.
"Wouldn't be anywhere else," she responded.
"Except for class."
"Too boring."
He chuckled softly. "You remind me of him sometimes, you know that?"
She pulled apart to hold him at an arm's length and their eyes met. "That's a high compliment," she grinned. "And you remind me of him quite a lot too, you know that?" she teased.
George smirked. "Git," he said casually, with no insult meant behind the word.
"What can I say, must be the inner twin in me," she replied.
George shook his head and let out a short bark of laughter: the first time he had laughed all day. The sound caught Ron by surprise and he paused outside the door for a moment before coming in, holding the stack of cards up for all to see.
Molly sat in her favorite rocking chair in her bedroom, the fireplace crackling in front of her and the radio playing merrily from the table. The picture of the twins sat next to the radio in a prominent position in front of the other family pictures so that whenever she glanced up, it caught her eye.
But now, she was intensely focused on the task at hand, or at least she was trying to be. Her knitting needles clacked together, pulling the teal colored yarn through the right loops and adding to the patterned blanket that was halfway done. As she finished a row, she set it down carefully in her lap and rolled her neck around, trying to ease out the kinks and the tension locked in her shoulders.
A sad smile stretched across her lips at the framed photo staring at her and after a few seconds, she tore her eyes away to start on the next row of Teddy's birthday present. She deftly maneuvered the needles in and out of the yarn, barely having to think about what she was doing, but her heart simply wasn't in it. She knew that she shouldn't be sitting alone at home today. She shouldn't be mourning her social and extroverted son by herself, isolated in her bedroom. She shouldn't be leaving her broken-hearted son alone.
With that, she slammed her project down to the table, making the radio jump, and she doused the fire with a flick of her wand. She hastily turned the knob to the radio, shutting off the song midphrase, and rushed downstairs to write a note to her husband before stepping outside and onto the dirt road in front of the house. Without stopping to think, she turned on her heel and disappeared from the Burrow.
She landed on the top stoop in front of no. 12 Grimmauld Place and knocked against the door, tucking her wand into her belt while she waited. A minute or two later, the door opened to reveal a tall redhead who brightened in surprise at seeing her.
"Mum! What are you doing here?" Ron asked, stepping aside to let her in.
"Just visiting," she said, leaning on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I couldn't stay away today."
"What a nice surprise, Mum," he said loudly, making sure that his two siblings could hear him upstairs. After all, she would certainly be less forgiving for Ginny's absence than either he or Hermione.
"I forgot you were staying home from work today," she commented, clearly not noticing anything unusual about his raised voice.
"Yeah, figured I'd stay home with George. He's in the drawing room," he apprised her in the same loud voice, still trying to preclude the inevitable as he followed her up the stairs and down the hall.
Without preamble, she waltzed into the drawing room, her arms already outstretched for a hug, but she froze at the sight before her. Ginny and George both froze too, their arms outstretched as they engaged in a sword fight with two rubber chickens that were once fake wands.
"Hey, Mum," Ginny said sheepishly, dropping the chicken onto the pile of Exploding Snap cards on the table.
"GINERVA WEASLEY!" she screeched. "WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
George snorted and hid his rubber chicken behind his back, adopting a stern expression on his sister. Ron slipped into the room with a small shrug saying I tried to warn you.
"Just dropping by to say hello," Ginny essayed.
"Uh-huh," Mrs. Weasley crossed her arms with a huff. "You are supposed to be at Hogwarts, young lady."
"Er… surprise?"
"What a trouble maker," George tutted, crossing his own arms. "Skiving off classes? I've never heard of such a thing!"
"You are literally the manufacturer of Skiving Snackboxes," Ginny rolled her eyes.
He snorted and let his arms drop, dropping his facade with it. "Hi Mum," he said, cutting her off mid-harangue before she could go any further.
She shut her mouth and turned her irate scowl into a compassionate and loving smile. "Hello George," she cooed and rushed into his arms. "My sweet, sweet boy."
Ginny backed away slightly, thankful for the diversion and moved back to the couch.
"But don't think I've forgotten about you, young lady!" she said over George's shoulder, still refusing to let go of him.
Ginny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, all the while muttering a dark string of cuss words under her breath. Mrs. Weasley continued to hold George in her arms, rocking back and forth on the spot and stroking his back until he eventually wiggled out of her grasp.
Later that afternoon...
The moment that Harry stepped out of the fireplace in the kitchen, he started heading up the stairs, trusting the sound of voices to lead him to Ron and George. He was determined to check on them before he went to Hogwarts to see who had broken into his office and set off his alarms. All day, he had devoted half of his focus to Fred and George while the other half attempted to drag the first half onto the task at hand. This internal struggle led to some awkward conversations when he had to ask the auror that was talking to him to repeat what they were saying for the third time. Either way, he had survived the day and was anxious to see how the two Weasleys were holding up.
He slowed his hurried steps when he was halfway up the staircase because he could have sworn he heard the loud laugh of Ginny Weasley. Suddenly, with his hand trailing on the banister behind him, he had an inkling of an idea as to who had snuck into his office at Hogwarts. Smirking to himself, he finished climbing the last few steps as silently as he could and listened closely at the open door, careful not to step into their line of sight.
"Remember that one time when we were little, before Hogwarts," Ginny started, already laughing at her coming story. "And the four of us were determined to make Mum a cake for her birthday, and Fred decided that Mum's recipe needed more chocolate-" her story was cut short by a bout of her own snorting and she held her stomach while she tried to continue.
But Ron took over for her. "Oh yeah! And he added so much melted chocolate that even when we left it in the oven for a few hours, it still came out as almost pure liquid!"
"I think we missed our true calling," George commented wistfully.
"All I remember," said a new voice that sounded distinctly like Mrs. Weasley. "Is that one of you thought it would be easier to steal my wand and try to use it to clean up rather than just clean up yourselves."
"Ahh, that was me," George confessed brazenly. "If I recall correctly, I did manage to get water to come out."
"On everything except the pans," Ginny retorted.
"An insignificant detail," George said, waving her concerns aside.
Harry smiled and sighed, realizing that his day of worries was for nothing. He should have known better than to think the Weasleys would leave George alone today. He pushed himself off the wall and crept back downstairs to make a cup of tea while he finished editing some reports that he should have finished at the office.
Ginny grabbed a hold of the corner of the banister and swung around it to head into the kitchen to find some snacks for everyone to enjoy in place of dinner. But, she stopped abruptly at the threshold when she caught sight of Harry slumped over a report, his head in his hand.
"Harry?" she asked in surprise.
He instantly sat up, blinking rapidly and turned towards her.
"Hey Gin!" he said rather sheepishly.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to finish reading some things for work that I should have finished at work, but now having trouble staying awake," he admitted.
"Must be pretty boring then," she commented, approaching the cupboards and opening them at random to look for good snacks.
He shrugged. "Kinda. What are you doing?"
"Looking for snacks." She rose to her tip-toes and grabbed a large bowl down from a shelf.
"I see," he said, rising from the stiff backed chair.
"But what I really meant was what are you doing hiding down here. You must've heard us up there. We aren't exactly a 'quiet' family." She grabbed a random stack of napkins and tucked them under the bowl.
He shrugged. "You were all talking together. I didn't want to interrupt your moment."
She scoffed. "You should have come in! I would think you've known us for long enough by now to know that you're interrupting anything."
Harry ignored her comment and instead opened the pantry, reaching in to grab a few bags of snacks from Honeydukes and the local grocer that were Ron and George's favorites and were therefore, always kept in stock at Grimmauld Place. He dropped them onto the counter in front of Ginny.
"Perfect!" She poured out some potato crisps into a bowl and filled another with Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Bean. Once they had gathered enough unhealthy food with only one bowl of grapes to balance it out, Ginny grabbed onto two of the platters.
"Bring those two, will you?" she nodded towards the last two dishes that still sat on the counter.
"Sure," he said, scooping them up and following her out of the kitchen.
As they climbed the staircase, Harry asked, "Can I assume it was you who set off the alarms in my office?"
"Probably a safe assumption," she prevaricated without turning around.
He snorted.
"To be fair, you didn't have it very well protected. You'd think you'd know more spells as the Co-Head of the Auror Department."
"To be fair, I didn't think I needed to," he retorted. "Most students don't go breaking into Professors' offices."
"You did," Ginny shot back from in front of Harry. He may not be able to see her face, but he could certainly hear the smile lurking.
"Yeah, but that was Snape," he said, as if that explained everything. Then he added: "And Umbridge."
"Fair enough," she shrugged and kicked open the door so that it opened wider.
"Look I found!" she announced to the drawing room.
"Hello Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said with a smile from her perch in the corner of the couch. George was seated next to her and Ron occupied a plush armchair near the far wall with a small, round table between them.
"Hi, Mrs. Weasley. I thought I heard you earlier," he said, setting down his two platters of snacks which Ron eagerly dove for. Ginny filled up a napkin with a little bit of everything, then curled up into the last remaining armchair. Harry sat on the arm of her chair and tucked one foot near her thigh on the cushion, the other he let dangle over the round arm.
"Bleh!" Ron said, his face contorted and lips pursed in disgust. "Envelope glue!" He grabbed a napkin and spat it out before popping another in his mouth, hoping to wipe out the taste.
Ginny smirked watching him. "Better?"
"Toffee apple!" he announced victoriously. "Want one George?"
He sighed and shrugged. "Why not?"
Ron picked one at random and tossed it to George who caught it in an open mouth. He chewed and swallowed with an impassive face, not giving a single thing away. "Huh. Ketchup. Who knew they made those?"
"Throw one to me!" Ginny called and Ron complied.
Ginny leaned sideways and caught in her mouth before she coughed and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to swallow. "Onion! Gross!"
She shook her head and grabbed another one from the bowl. "Here, Harry. You go."
He leaned forward and she popped it into his mouth.
"Get a room!" George shouted, throwing another handful of beans at them and they scattered to the floor.
Harry smirked and chewed thoughtfully. "Honey!" he said.
"You have pet names for each other!?" Ron asked in disbelief, cringing and leaning backwards.
Harry's eyes opened wide and he quickly amended himself. "I meant that I got a honey flavored one!"
"But we do have pet names for each other. Don't we, babe?" she said cheekily, shooting finger guns at him.
Harry chuckled, but his response was cut off by Ron groaning loudly and shaking himself. Once his over-dramatic fit subsided, Ron said loudly, "New topic!"
Mrs. Weasley entered the conversation, keen to keep their rapport amicable. "Harry, why don't you share a memory about Fred? It's nice to hear all the good times he's had."
Harry looked around the room and saw George with his plastered smile, clearly belying his pain, and Mrs. Weasley's glistening eyes. Ron reached for a pumpkin pasty and Ginny looked up at him, her eyes bright and head cocked to the side curiously.
"Er… okay," he said. Then he smiled as a scene came to mind, playing out before his eyes like a movie. "There was that time when you guys came to pick me up for the Quidditch World Cup and you and Fred," he started, motioning his head towards George, "really wanted to see Dudley so you offered to go get my trunk. And then when you came back, Dudley was in the kitchen so Fred 'accidentally' dropped a bunch of Ton-Tongue Toffees so that Dudley would grab some and his tongue turned into a giant, four-foot lump."
Harry smiled wistfully at the fond memory while Ginny and George broke into laughter.
Ron groaned dejectedly and said, "I'm still mad that Dad made me leave before I could see that."
Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, but decided not to say anything about what she considered inappropriate behavior. Instead, she interrupted her childrens' bout of laughs with her own story. "Remember when Ginny kept complaining about the itchy skirt I made her wear to some fancy lunch at your Aunt Muriel's and so to make her feel better, Fred took her into a guest room so they could switch without me noticing? Fred came out in a bright yellow skirt that looked like a tu-tu on him and Ginny came out with baggy khakis that you had to roll up about ten times just so she wouldn't trip."
"Oh yeah!" George said, snapping his fingers. "And I didn't want to be left out so I took her cardigan and she took my bow tie!"
Ginny laughed, remembering the event too and wiped a finger across her damp eyes. Ron chuckled and shook his head, remembering his mother's shocked face when they emerged. Harry smiled at the happy scene playing out in front of him and snorted at the easily imaginable young, stubborn Ginny combined with the creative, inexorable twins and the mischief they most certainly caused in their time.
A few hours later, Mrs. Weasley jumped up from the couch after catching a glimpse from her watch. "Ginny! Get up!" she shouted.
Ginny, who was currently laying across the armchair with her legs over one arm and head leaning against Harry on the other side, started in surprise. "What?" she said, swinging her legs down.
"Curfew is starting soon! You have to get back to school!"
"Oh! Right…," she said sheepishly, standing languidly and stretching out her back.
"Go, go, go!" Mrs. Weasley hurried, using her hands to swat after her.
"I'm going! I'm going!" she huffed and planted a quick kiss on Harry's lips before succumbing to her Mum's warnings and hurrying out the door. "Bye!" she shouted through the doorway, but Mrs. Weasley wouldn't let her stay to hear the chorus of good-byes flowing through the door.
When Mrs. Weasley returned after making sure Ginny spun away safely back to Harry's office fireplace, she didn't sit down. Instead, she walked over to each wizard and pulled them each into a hug, all the while saying that she really must be heading home before Arthur starts to worry.
Then, there were three left.
"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," George announced, clapping his hands to his thighs before he stood. "Good night."
" 'Night," they replied.
Within the safety of his own room, George reflected that the afternoon had passed in relative ease. With all the loud chatter and distractions, the dark and gloomy day didn't seem as dangerously isolating as it had seemed a week before. Even so, he was eager to fall asleep as quickly as he could so that he wasn't left alone in the darkness for a moment longer than necessary.
As always, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd appreciate any reviews or thoughts or comments.