Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (assignments & challenges)

Healer Studies - Task 2: Write about someone who doesn't have many/has trouble making friends

A/N: This came about because I was given the pairing of George Weasley and Millicent Bulstrode by the Wheel of Daring Decisions. And damn, did I want those 10 bonus points. But I've had to put it up without a proper read over, as the deadline for that particular challenge was today (31st March), so I promise to come back and clean it up. Maybe the story too. But you'll get the gist of it. Extra prompts used are listed at the bottom. If you made it to this pairing search, I hope you enjoy it.

The Reconstruction of Millicent Bulstrode

I've never been what is traditionally know as pretty. My jaw, which I inherited off my father, something my mother reminds me of frequently, is on the … wider side, which makes me look like I've got an underbite, and my build has always been rather large. Mother kept putting me on one diet or another, but my weight wasn't because of what I was eating. It was the way I was – like her. Which is why I think she tried so hard to get me to be smaller – more feminine, as she put it.

As I'd gotten older, I grew into my size and jawline a little. Enough to at least feel comfortable in my own skin and the boys no longer looked terrified that I might break them if I accidentally sat on them.

Through Hogwarts, the girls in my dormitory always made sure that I knew my place; I wasn't one of them. Well, Daphne wasn't too bad, but Pansy was only ever nice to me when there was a fight to be had with the Gryffindors. They always made it clear that being Slytherin was not enough to gain their friendship. It went without saying that the boys didn't even look at me, so I never bothered trying to gain their attention.

I'd gotten used to spending a lot of time alone. When you're overlooked so often, you don't have an option. It can also make a person bitter, angry even. Some of my worst moments were of me trying desperately to get Pansy to include me, to show her I was one of them. After all, I had been sorted into Slytherin, like my mother. The problem was, my father left after I had shown my first accidental magic. It was years later Mother had explained why – we were freaks to him. You'd think a child could be forgiven for lashing out at those that reminded me of my father; Mudbloods and Muggles. I soon realised when I left school, that wasn't the case.

Looking back, if I was honest with myself, I couldn't have cared less what you were, but my reactions and digs towards Hermione Granger always got me back in the fold for a day or two. Then it would be nothing until the next opportunity arose to make Granger's life as miserable as mine. Some days I hated myself. Some days I wished desperately to be anyone but me. And some days I was indifferent. School wasn't forever.

The closest thing I'd received to any form of kindness, after the war, was given to me by Kingsley Shacklebolt. He'd invited me to his office to 'discuss' my links to Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. There was a distant cousin somewhere who'd been a Death Eater, but Mother and I had no true connections. Much like myself, Mother had had a hard time of accepting anyone that wasn't of Pureblood origins. That can happen when the love of your life rejects you for being magical, but we didn't actively seek revenge for something that wasn't their fault.

I still don't know where my father is.

After the discussion with Kingsley, he offered me a job as an assistant in his office; keeping his paperwork in order, that sort of thing. I'd done okay in Hogwarts, passed all my exams and had a knack for Herbology, but no one was offering me a job any time soon. I'd been on the wrong side of the war to start with. I hadn't fought with the Death Eaters, but I hadn't fought with the school either. So I took his job. It gave me something to do and it gave Kingsley a reason to keep a close eye on me. He'd tried to hide that bit, but it was obvious in the way some of us Slytherins had been offered various jobs in the Ministry.

It was actually a nice way of living after I'd started my job. Kingsley always asked how I was doing, the others in his office were always polite – not enough to become friends with me – and I had a nice little flat in Diagon Alley that kept me near people. I was still lonely, only it was easier to deal with now when you weren't trying to impress anyone to be your friend.

And I really was doing okay. Until I wandered into the weird joke shop run by one of the Weasleys and I felt like someone had slapped me awake to my emotions. Like an epiphany of sorts.

I was bored one weekend and went for a walk around Diagon Alley, realising I'd never been in Weasleys' Wheezes or whatever it was called. All this time I'd wasted having never visited it when one of the finest specimens of the male species worked there. Even better once I found out he owned the shop!

There he was, standing by the till, in a brown suit with a green waistcoat and tie that fit his stocky build like a glove. And he was as tall as me. He was a Weasley, all right. He looked a lot like that Ron who hung around Harry Potter, but this one looked like he knew how to make a person laugh. I missed laughing.

Then he looked my way and I turned, knocking something out of someone's hand, and scrambled to pick it up for them. The child muttered their thanks as I quickly moved to start looking at a shelf of items. The boxes read: Patented Daydream Charm. Glancing out the corner of my eye, I spotted him coming towards me, and I tried to read what exactly the product was, but that wasn't happening.

'Not seen you in here before,' he said, leaning around to look me in the eye. 'This is one of our more popular products if you need a bit of an escape from life.' He tapped at one of the boxes.

'First time do – I mean, what not here is it—' I blinked at him, hearing the words come out of my mouth in the wrong order.

Looking at his eyes was probably not helping my situation. One look at them and my heart was racing with my throat drying up. They were celestial, his eyes; deep blue with tiny flecks of amber. It was like looking at a nebula, each eye different with the placements of flecks, and holding more depth than could be seen on the surface. I felt like I was in heaven looking at them.

He laughed, but it wasn't at me – it was a friendly one. It made me laugh too, my flaming cheeks cooling instantly at how relaxed he suddenly made me feel. 'I meant to say, what do they do?' I pointed to the boxes.

He explained to me, he really did, but I wasn't listening. Here was this man, talking to me like he really wanted to talk to me, not because he had to, and it was … amazing.

I left the shop with four boxes of Patented Daydream Charms and every one of them was spent daydreaming what it would be like for this man to sweep me off my feet.

And when I went back the next week, he remembered me.

'How'd those daydreams work out for you?' he asked when he found by the Canary Creams.

I looked up and he'd had a haircut during the week. 'George!' I blurted, seeing his missing ear. It was like seeing it made my brain remember a lot of information all at once about him, such as he had a twin who'd died in the war and he'd opened this shop with his brother. I mean, I knew of the Weasleys and their stories in helping Potter, but I didn't know the Weasleys. There was also a vague memory of hearing the Weasley girl talk about a brother losing an ear when we were on the train back to Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy was practically beside himself with glee over it.

'That's right,' he laughed. He pointed at the scar. 'Did this give it away?'

I shook my head. 'Well, a little. I couldn't remember which one of your family owned this place, but I remembered the—' I stopped when I saw his eyes lose some of their laughter, the light fading quickly.

'Bloody hell! Bulstrode! What are you doing in here?' a voice called loudly across the shop. 'Surprised you'd even have the audacity to come in.' Ron Weasley was making his way to us now.

Like a reflex I'd never lost, I said, 'At least I didn't marry—' And I caught myself, right at the last moment, gritting my teeth together.

'Marry … go on, finish the sentence,' he said, the edge in his voice clear.

I shook my head quickly. 'I didn't mean that. Sometimes I say things I don't mean.'

'By the time you realise it, though, it's too late,' Weasley snapped.

I glanced to George who was watching with mild interest and I felt my cheeks heat up. 'I'm sorry. I don't speak—' I couldn't finish my sentence, instead I chose to leave, apologising to Weasley again. Not that he wanted it, or cared.

And even though I now knew I could risk bumping into Weasley or Granger, as I had heard they were married now, I couldn't stop myself from returning to the shop the next weekend. I needed to see George, even if he didn't talk to me. We'd barely spoken, but it was enough to have been feeling all kinds of things for him.

The following weekend was the busiest I'd seen the shop and George was behind the till, giving all those customers that smile I already knew was my favourite thing about him. It wrinkled his nose and drew your attention to the smattering of freckles he had. I spent nearly an hour there before giving up on him coming over to me.

The next week was the same.

And the week after that.

But the week after that, it was quieter. He spotted me walk in and gave me a little wave, still talking to the customer in front of him. I felt myself smile widely, waving like an idiot in return. The moment his eyes were off me, I searched for a shelf to look at products – ones I hadn't looked at yet. I finally found it in the Pygmy Puffs. How I had not seen them before, was beyond me; they were adorable!

'They're still one of our best sellers,' George's voice said behind me, nearly making me the drop I was currently holding. 'Will you be buying something this week? Or are you here for the brilliant company?'

I nearly choked on fresh air, feeling my face heat up, probably going instantly bright red. 'S-sorry,' I muttered, 'I just like to get out of the flat. People don't avoid me too much in here.'

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either. Then he gave me that sympathetic look Kingsley sometimes gave me when he asked if I'd been out with friends. 'How much are the Pygmy Puffs?' I asked. I left with two of them.

The follow week it was different. George was by the entrance, almost like he'd been waiting for me. Could he have been waiting for me? 'Millicent,' he called.

'You know my name?' I asked, turning to him. It was a ridiculous question, his brother must have told him who I was.

He confirmed as much before saying, 'Would you like to have a cup of tea in the back? I'm due a break.'

'Me? You want tea with me?' Again, ridiculous questions left before my brain could realise what was happening.

George gave me a bright smile. 'I've only got ten minutes, but if you've got nothing better to do…'

There isn't one point in my life I could recall sitting down and having a cup of tea with someone. Not even my mother. She had tea with her friends, which I was never invited to join them, and no one invited me to do anything at Hogsmeade, on the few times we went. This was a dream come to true. Especially when George even asked me questions about myself and what I'd been up to since we'd left school.

Then he caught me unaware.

'Ron told me about some of the stuff from school – I'm not judging, Millicent.'

My face must have lost all colour when he'd said it for him to add that last bit so quickly. I could never justify who I was, I didn't want to. It was done. I couldn't take it back. 'School was hard,' I said quietly, staring at the teacup in my hands.

'It was,' George agreed.

'Not for you. Not really. I remember how popular you both were. Everyone loved the Weasley twins,' I said, struggling to hide my bitterness.

'You know, it's never too late to say sorry. It doesn't fix everything, but at least you can say you've tried,' he said cautiously. He looked unsure, like he thought I was going to knock him into next week.

'You're talking about Granger – aren't you?'

'She is my sister-in-law now.' He gave me a small smile with a slight nod of his head. 'Take it from me, I know how short life can be. Losing Fred was like losing half of me. And I'm not saying you should be best friends, but … maybe try to put some kindness into the world. It always finds its way back to you somehow.'

George had to get back to work after that and I left immediately, thinking about what he'd said. Maybe he had a point; I'd not been purposely cruel to anyone since school, but I hadn't exactly tried to be nice to anyone either. All their memories of me were of my past. How were they to know that I was trying to be a better adult than I was a child. And I wanted George to know that I could be a better person.

I started with one of the women in the office. She'd been avoiding me at all costs, more days not even hiding it. When I arrived at work on Monday, she was already at her desk, so I took a deep breath and I went to her before she could run away.

'Demelza, could I ask you something?'

Her head shot up from her work, eyes wide and looking around the office quickly. 'Okay, Millicent,' she said quietly.

I found myself kneeling down, holding on to the edge of her desk for support, so that I wasn't towering over her. 'Was I mean to you in school?'

Anger flashed in her eyes. 'Mean?' she snapped. 'Millicent, you got me into trouble with the Carrows because I'd bumped into you in the corridor. You knew they were using the Cruciatus Curse as punishment. I'm only just able to sleep properly.'

I sighed, the disappointment at myself was crushing. Strange how memories could work. I didn't remember until I did upon hearing her words. Pansy had been particularly vicious towards me in Transfiguration and as we left the classroom, Demelza had had the unfortunate timing of walking into me as I stepped out.

'I'm sorry, Demelza – and I don't want or expect you to forgive me,' I added quickly when I could see she was about to refuse my apology. 'I was a lonely and miserable child with no understanding of the consequences, and I'm sorry that I put that onto you.

'I can't take back what I did, but I wanted you to at least have an apology.'

Demelza gave me a hard stare, neither of us moving. 'Okay, Millicent. You've apologised.'

I knew that was the best I would get. As I stepped away she asked, 'Are you still lonely and miserable?'

'I suppose I am,' I admitted to her.

I saw her swallow before she said, 'Good.'

Years of having my feelings hurt had hardened me, but I knew I would probably cry a little when I got home. I couldn't blame Demelza though. Some people need to know there's some kind of justice for what happened to them.

When I saw George that weekend, I was so excited to tell him the step I'd taken, and he actually praised me for my actions. It kept me floating through work, knowing that George was pleased with me.

Week after week I would return to George, while we had a ten minute cup of tea, and I would tell him about the people I'd worked around to apologising to. Some of them by letter, some in person. Most of them responded in the same way as Demelza, but I was becoming okay with that – I had George now.

Then one day I came across Granger in the Atrium of the Ministry, walking fast with a pile of parchments in her arms. I knew it was now or never. I walked towards her, my long legs matching her speed easily, and called out to her.

She turned, surprise clear on her face, but she stopped. She didn't even look worried, angry, or scared, like some of the others had done. 'What is it?' she asked with a sigh.

'I—' I froze, my throat closing up. Why was it so hard to apologise to her?

'I have a meeting to get to,' she said pointedly.

'I—'

She stood up straight, an odd smile on her face, like she was seeing me properly and realised who I was. 'George had told me what you've been doing – apologising to people from school.'

'He has?' My words kept out a whisper, still struggling to find my voice.

She nodded. 'I don't need your apology, Millicent. Just …' She shifted from foot to foot, looking down at her papers. 'Be better, you know?' I nodded. I did know. 'We're not in school, we're not children, so now you know the consequences your actions can have.'

'I do know,' I said emphatically.

'Good.' She was already walking away when she turned back to look at me once more. 'Thank you for trying, though.'

This time I couldn't wait until the weekend to tell George. I went straight to his shop after work. It was still busy, considering it was a weekday, but he spotted me, giving me a bright smile when he did.

'Got time for a cup of tea?' I asked breathlessly. I'd almost ran all the way here.

He'd barely handed me my teacup when I told him everything about my small chat with Granger. 'She was so nice about it, George. The only one who has been.'

'She's got a strong moral compass does Hermione,' George said. He looked proud of her. I wish he could look like that at me. And like he knew what I'd been thinking, he added, 'I'm really proud of you, Milly.'

Before I could make my brain think about what it was doing, I let the words leave my mouth. 'I love you.'

George's mouth went into an O shape as he said, 'Oh!'

I clapped a hand to my mouth, already feeling how hot my face had gotten. 'I'm sorry,' I mumbled under my hand.

George shook his head. 'No, don't be sorry. It was just a little unexpected.'

I grimaced, already hearing in his tone how this was going to go. The little stock room would've been silent if it wasn't for the chatter of the customers coming through, but the atmosphere was thick with tension. I was so ashamed but I didn't want to leave. Something in me resolutely stayed put until George said something.

'I have a girlfriend,' he said gently, putting his teacup on the tray between us.

It was my turn to say, 'Oh!' I put my teacup down next to his. 'I should go.'

'Listen to me for a moment,' he instructed firmly, but kindly. He always had such kindness about him. 'You don't really love me. You love what I represent.'

'And what's that?' I asked sullenly. I felt myself digging my nails into my palms as my fists clenched.

'The kindness I've shown you.'

'You mean you felt sorry for me.'

'I did at first, I won't lie.' He reached over and pulled at one of my hands, seeing how hard I'd been digging my fingers in. 'But it got me to talk to you, to get to know you. You're strong, Milly. Stronger than you know. And you deserve someone that will see it immediately.'

I sighed, feeling a deep pain in my heart at the rejection. I stood to leave. George stood with me, looking at me with concern. He put a hand on my shoulder.

'Sorry for the outburst. Please, I'll be okay,' I said earnestly, moving so his hand was gone.

He stopped me again by putting his hand on my elbow. 'You're not okay, Milly. That's fine, though, you know?' His hand squeezed a little. 'Rejection is horrible, and I hate that you're getting it off me, but please let me still be your friend. Would that be possible?'

And when he said, even thought I was experiencing my first heartache, I realised I really didn't want to lose him as a friend. Especially when he'd said it first – that he was my friend. An actual friend!

'I'd really like that,' I said honestly.

It took me a month before I found my way back to George's shop, having needed the time to understand what I was feeling. He'd been right; I had thought I'd fallen in love with him because he'd been so kind to me. I also realised that I was strong. I was a better person because of George Weasley, and I would always be in debt to him for that.

Spring Seasonal Prompts

- Days of the Year & Religious Events - April 9th - Write about someone who wants to be anyone but them-self.

- World Theatre Day - 24. alt. (dialogue) 'Sorry for the outburst. Please, I'll be okay.'

- Crayon Day - 19. Celestial

- April Fool's Day - 14. Patented Daydream Charms

- Children's Book Day - 15. (plot point) Write about someone mixing up their words.

- Spring Colours - 4. Green

Founder Says...

- Salazar - 1. 'Sometimes I say things I don't mean.' / 'By the time you realise it, though, it's too late.'

Pops

- Television - 11. (colour) Green

Fortnightlies

- It's My Party - 10. (colour) Amber

- Lipstick Appreciation Day - 1. (word) Epiphany

Bake-a-thon

- 14. Chocolate dipped biscotti - 1. (action) Picking up an object someone else dropped.

Winter Quarterly

30. Write a fic featuring a romantic pairing given to you from the Wheel of Daring Decision - George Weasley & Millicent Bulstrode (unrequited, but I checked that it was allowed, and it is!)

March Writing Club

- Record Collection - 13. (word) Heaven

- Elizabeth's Empire - 29. (colour) Green

- Liza's Loves - 7. Write about someone with a new outlook on life, or a fresh start.

- The Forecast Says... 27th 'You're not okay, [Name]. That's fine, though, you know?'

Yearly

- Fantastic Beast - 97. Character: George Weasley

- Scavenger Hunt - 36. Write in first person

- 365 - 135. (dialogue) 'You don't really love me. You love what I represent.'

Word Count: 3,654