It was her first time in the flat above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Tensions were already running high when she and Fred started spending time together and he didn't think it was wise for her to be associated with him. Looking around, the apartment was so Fred. Well-used mismatched furniture paired with walls plastered with parchment detailing product ideas. The occasional photograph stood out. It was such organized chaos and exactly what she expected.
Ella wiped away the straggling tears leftover from her breakdown back in the alley. She hated crying in front of other people, especially knowing that George had felt Fred's death one thousand times harder than she had. They were twins, for God's sake.
"Go ahead and take a seat. How do you like your tea?" George asked as he gestured towards the small sitting area.
"Oh, it's really okay, I don't want to trouble you," she declined, twisting her hands to try and tamper down her nerves.
"It's no trouble, really. Milk, sugar?"
"Ah...no milk but I'll take sugar." She slid down onto the couch that felt far less lumpy than it looked.
"How much?" She felt her face heat up.
"Um, five spoons." It sounded like more of a question than a request, but instead of the usual appalled look she got over her tea preferences, she got a laugh in return.
"No wonder Fred liked you, he finally found someone who shares his horrible tea tastes." He went to set up the kettle and looked over at her. "Isn't it just sugar water after two spoons?"
Ella felt herself bristle in defense.
"Better sugar water than leaf water," she retorted. George kept a smile, though a little smaller than before. He'd heard that same phrase from Fred dozens if not thousands of times before. While the kettle heated he went and took a seat in the chair across from this unfamiliar woman in his living room. What little bit of tension that had left while on the safe subject of tea seemed to have rebounded in full force.
"It's nice to finally meet you," he offered. "Fred spoke highly of you."
He could tell by the way her face tightened into an almost grimace that it was still a sore subject for her.
"You, as well."
They both averted their eyes and an uncomfortable silence settled over the two. For the whole of the seven months Ella and Fred had spent together, George and Ella had heard Fred going on and on about the other. Of course, they had wanted to meet. How could they not with Fred constantly jabbering on about how great they each were? They just never imagined they'd meet without him there.
"I supposed we should just get the obvious out there," she blurted out. "I'm pregnant, about five months along. It's...Fred's, obviously." Her voice cracked as she forced his name out. It felt like ages since she said it aloud.
"And you're...sure?" Even he winced as the words came out.
"Quite." Her eyes narrowed a bit, clearly annoyed at his question. "It's not like there was an endless line of blokes in line to bed a Muggle-born at the time."
George tensed. He hadn't meant to imply that, but the shock of it all had him feeling like he'd switched dimensions. If this was real, it changed everything. It would be a break in the cloud of sorrow that seemed to hover over his family as they learned to live without Fred.
Ella took a deep breath and straightened her posture, he presumed to summon every ounce of confidence she could to get through the conversation.
"We can go to St. Mungo's and test it if you don't believe me."
"We probably should," he agreed, rubbing a hand down his face. "It'll take that to convince Mum it's real."
Ella's confidence faltered at the prospect of telling the rest of the Weasleys.
"You're going to tell them, then?" she asked. Her brow knit together in worry and for a moment George felt the slightest frustration bubble to his surface.
"Were you ever going to tell us?" he countered. "If not for today, what would've happened with...it?"
Sadness filled Ella's eyes again.
"Honestly? I don't know." He wasn't surprised to hear it but it still stung. He didn't want to lose any more of his twin than he had to.
"Is that why you stayed back at his funeral... because you weren't sure if you wanted to tell us?"
Ella started shaking her head as he was talking.
"You don't understand, I didn't even know then," she insisted. "I found out two months after the funeral and I was still grieving. I am still grieving."
She let out a short, almost disbelieving laugh. Then, he saw the last string holding her sanity together snap.
"I chased you down the bloody street, George. I saw you put him in the ground in May and at the first flash of red hair after months of wallowing alone in my flat, I ran after you like a madwoman! I hardly leave home unless I have to and when I do go out I avoid people like the plague, especially since I started showing. I told you I was fine but I suppose I only mean that in the strictest, barest level of the word. I hardly sleep because every time I close my eyes I see him. And it hurts. At least I'm eating now but that's really only because I know the baby needs my body to be healthy."
She looked away, trying to pull herself together before her emotions overcame her again.
"I love your brother," she said, her eyes locking back on George's. "He was everything to me. I considered giving her up but the thought of losing the last connection I have to him...I can't do it."
"She?" he asked quietly.
"And now I'm sitting here rambling to his twin like a sociopath because I feel like I know you even though I don't. I've heard so many stories and seen so many pictures that I feel like it's normal to share this much information about the absolute trainwreck of a mess my head is but it's not because we've never so much as owled until now! But I want to tell you because you look so much like him until I look in your eyes and I don't see those little flecks of gold, or the small scar just under his chin or, Merlin, your left ear and I'm jolting in the reality that you're not your twin and this is entirely unfair to you and rather rude of me, which is not the first impression I'd wanted you to have of me because you two are so important to each other-"
"Ella," he interrupted.
She probably would have continued to steamroll over his words if the whistling of the kettle broke their focus. George hopped up and hurried to get it off the stove and into their mugs. Ella took the brief interruption to regain her composure. No, ranting and raving about how hard this has been for her was not how she wanted this conversation to go and so she thankful for the break.
George was really the first person she'd talked about Fred with since his death, at least in specifics. She'd kept up correspondence with a handful of school friends who reached out after the war but never did she go into specifics about her situation. Plus, it was emotionally draining to be there talking through the things she didn't talk about, with someone who had Fred's face but was painfully not Fred. Fred had always made jokes that he and George would have to wear colored collars so that she'd be able to tell them apart but from where she was sitting she couldn't imagine not seeing the differences.
They were laying on the floor of her living room surrounded by crumpled parchment. Fred was showing her a new type of roll that he and George had developed to put a little pizazz in note passing. He scribbled something down and tapped it twice with his wand.
"Charta avolare"
The parchment jumped to life, folding itself up into a swan. It shot into the air, flying circles above their heads before fluttering to a rest on Ella's forehead. She giggled and reached up to open it.
"What do you think? Think it'll sell well?" he had written.
Ella rolled over, beaming at her boyfriend.
"It's absolutely brilliant."
"Sorry, can't hear you," he said loudly. "My ears are...sleeping-just use the parchment!"
He pushed the roll and quill towards her. Still laughing, she rolled onto her stomach and wrote quickly and copied Fred's charm.
"I love it!" she wrote back.
He grinned at the parchment and scribbled away.
"Charta avolare." He tapped it three times. Ella watched it fly around the room. It was amazing, the things those two came up with. She raised her hand up and the swan landed on her hand and then unfolded it.
"I love you."
She rolled her head to look at him and her heart just about stopped at the happy brown eyes that stared back at her, a goofy grin on his face. It was infectious. And she could stare into his eyes, counting each minuscule gold fleck for hours.
"I love you too." She reached a hand out and threaded her fingers through his. "So what does George think of it?"
"He likes it, it's not inconspicuous enough for note passing during class or anything but it's novel enough it should sell." Fred rolled onto his back and used his free arm to support his neck. "He loved your idea of expanding to different animals!"
"I'm glad." Ella winced at the way her tone fell a little flat. She hoped he wouldn't notice but when he glanced a quick worried look at her, she knew he had.
"I can't wait until you two meet," he offered up. "We'll have to get old Georgie and me different colored collars so that you don't mix us up."
"Like you're dogs?" she laughed.
"Well, we can't have you boxing me in a dark corner to have your wicked way with me, only for it to be my own twin, now can I? Although, imagine how many birds that sob story would get me! Betrayed by my lover with my own flesh and blood. My twin, no less! On second thought, maybe we'll swap collars-ow!"
"You are absolutely awful, Fred Weasley!" She tried scolding him, but it didn't make much impact with the smile she couldn't wipe off her face. He watched, still rubbing the spot she'd whacked him, as she got up and made her way to the kitchen.
The clink of George setting down the teacup on the coffee table snapped her from the memory.
"Oh!" She quickly wiped the stray tear away and sat up straight. "Thank you. And sorry."
"S'alright." He took his seat and watched her as she took a sip. He recognized the lonely look in her eyes. He stared at that same look in the mirror most days.
"Ella." He waited for her to look at him. "I know this is hard to talk about-"
"It's fine, it's just been so long since I've talked to someone who knew him. For the last few months, it's like he only existed in my memory." She sniffed a bit but was determined to keep the tears at bay. "I think it's...almost nice to talk to someone who understands what I've lost."
"He never met your parents, any of your friends?"
"No," she said, shaking her head and looking into her tea. "You know how things were slowly getting worse and I think he had a feeling even back in October when we made things official that it was going to get worse. Then you two were dealing with the store and doing what you could for the war, and so he said he wanted to keep it quiet while everything was bad. It's not like we could've gone anywhere, anyway. As far as Hogwarts and the Ministry were concerned, I had withdrawn from school and had left the country. And then after things came to a head in May…well, you know."
"And they didn't understand?" He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.
"They're Muggles, of course they didn't understand," she laughed bitterly. "I told them there was a war and they asked where."
"What about when they found out you were pregnant?"
She seemed to deflate at the question.
"That was after they found out. They thought I was made everything up because I didn't know who the father was and that I could hide that by making up some bollucks story about being persecuted for my blood lines."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he sympathized.
"You have to understand, though, they're Muggles. So much of the magical world sounds like fairytales to them. And I didn't make it any easier by not telling them about Fred in the first place. I mean, it was seven months with a bloke and I said nothing. And at the time it all made sense to keep it from them but now…" She trailed off, trying to find the right words.
"You've had to grieve alone because of it?"
She nodded, but they both knew it wasn't really a question.
"I wish you'd come to me sooner," George said. His voice was heavy with an emotion she couldn't quite place. "I'm sure it would've been just as uncomfortable but I wish-"
George was cut off as the fireplace roared to life a few meters away.
"George, you in?" Ginny's voice rang through the flat with her face sticking out from the green fire. George stood and walked over so his sister could see him.
"Yes, a bit busy right now though." The Fire Gin rolled her eyes.
"Mum wanted me to pass on that Charlie, Bill, and Fleur are coming 'round for dinner next Saturday."
"Seems like you could've written that in an owl, Gin."
"Obviously but you went off in a hurry today after that woman mistook you for Fr-is that her there?" Ginny tried to crane her neck to see who was sitting on the couch. "George, what's going on?"
"Now's not the time Ginny." He stepped to the side, totally blocking her view of Ella.
"Honestly, George-"
"Talk to you later, Gin," he cut her off, then tapped his wand to the mantel. In a flash, the fire was extinguished and with it, they were once again alone. When he turned, Ella was standing and looking at him with uncertain eyes.
"Sorry about that," he apologized.
"It's alright, I should be going anyway, I've taken up enough of your time." She stood and started making her way towards his door. George quickly followed after her and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
"Wait, promise me you'll come back." His voice only held a hint of the urgency his eyes did. "I want to help you."
She hesitated before giving a short nod.
"When?"
"I have work tomorrow but I'm free the day after," she said slowly. "I actually already have an appointment scheduled for half-past-two at St. Mungo's and I'm sure we can run a paternity test. I can meet you there if you'd like. So you can know for sure."
Right, he thought. The test.
"Sure," he agreed, nodding. "I'm opening the store alone but could get away around then. Things tend to slow down then."
She managed a small smile his way.
"Right then. I'll meet you there." She hesitated, unsure if the protocol for this situation called for a handshake or high five. She settled for a quick nod before making her way to the door.
Once the door shut and he was alone with his thoughts, George found himself gravitating towards his twin's room. He didn't go in there much but he felt overwhelmed by everything he had learned today. Normally he would owl Gin or Ron, hell, even Charlie, to share the burden of knowledge with them but he knew he had to keep this to himself until he knew for sure.
He made his way over to Fred's desk and dropped into the chair. He swung a hand out and whacked his fist to the front of the drawer to his right. When it sprung open, he snaked his hand to the back of the drawer, feeling around for the photograph he knew was wedged on the top. He'd only seen it a couple of times, the first when Fred had shown him and the second, the first time he'd been back in the flat after Fred's death.
He stared at the photo of Ella and Fred sitting on a couch. Fred's arm was thrown over her shoulder and they were looking at each other, wide smiles across their faces. Something catches Ella's attention across the room but Fred keeps his eyes on her.
George had tried to memorize what she looked like, hoping to spot her in the crowd and tell her what happened to Fred. In all the months since then, he had not crossed paths with her once. Not before today.
Instead of putting the photo where he had found it, he tucked it into the frame of a larger photograph of his family taken four Christmases back. Back before things really started to pick up with the war. Back when they were still whole.
He stared at the grinning face of his twin. They were still identical when it was taken. George rubbed a hand down his face and sighed.
"Oh, Forge."