Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Challenges listed at the bottom.

Word Count - 1286

Warning for fairly graphic descriptions of torture. Oops?


you are my life now


He can still hear the swishing of Bellatrix Lestrange's dress on the floor, masked only by her cackle as she waved her wand around, causing destruction. He can still see a masked monster running his father through with a sword, because simply killing him would be too much to ask, they had to make it hurt.

Everytime George closed his eyes, he was assaulted with the other half of himself being burned alive. Fred hadn't stood a chance, but George was frozen while Fred was burned and he was forced to watch.

This was a sport for them now. Finding people who'd fought against them and torturing them until they were begging for death.

Kingsley had saved him. George wished he hadn't, because he was alone now and he'd rather be dead and with his family than alone in a world that he'd never be safe in.

How long would he be forced to hide in abandoned buildings, covered in dust and cobwebs? How long would he feel hunger gnawing at him, because they hadn't managed to get enough food to feed everyone?

Everyone… the word was almost laughable for the few people left amongst them. The Order of the Phoenix, the best hope against Voldemort, and they were finished. Not a single one amongst them had the will, or the ability, to fight anymore.

Everyday was about surviving. George counted down the days until he could just… stop.

"It's snowing!"

George ignored the cheerful words, burrowing himself deeper under the threadbare blanket he had. It was thin and filled with holes, but it offered a little bit of shelter from the cold. George felt the cold more these days. He thought being literally trapped in ice had something to do with it, but none of them could think of a cure.

Winter had set in, and with it, George had to deal with a constant tremble, his jaw aching from his chattering teeth, his bones aching with the cold.

He watched them crowding around the grimy window of the hovel they'd moved to when their last place had been found. He wanted to be amongst them, to feel something other than the constant anger and sadness that followed him around, but he couldn't.

He couldn't find joy in the simple things anymore.

Once, he'd have loved to see the snowfall. He'd have already been wrapped up in one of his mother's hand knitted scarves, throwing snowballs at his siblings. He'd have been rolling up a snowman while Fred searched out the perfect carrot for the nose.

He'd have been having fun.

"Hey."

George looked up to see Kingsley towering over him, a thicker blanket in his hands. He bent down to wrap it over George, before he sat down beside him.

"How are you doing?" Kingsley asked, his even calming tone soothing to George. It had been, ever since he'd first woken up to find himself the last of his family still breathing.

George shrugged, leaning over so that he was pressed close to Kingsley's side. The man radiated heat, even in the cold of winter.

"It's almost midnight. Almost Christmas."

George nodded. "It… It's almost been a year," he said, his words choked and shaky. "But it still hurts like it happened yesterday. Is it ever… will it ever stop hurting?"

"It's always going to hurt," Kingsley said softly. "But it will, hopefully, get easier to manage. One day, you'll be able to smile again, George. Hold on to that."

"I just… I still feel so angry all the time."

"That's understandable too, you know? There's nothing wrong with what you're feeling George. The devotion you have for your family is part of what makes you human."

Tears slid down George's face and he let them fall.

Kingsley simply pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around him, blankets and all.

Kingsley handed him a packet of biscuits and then took the scarf from round his own neck and wrapped it carefully around George's.

They were listening to the others singing Christmas carols. It wasn't the most harmonious thing George had ever heard, but he thought that perhaps that just made it better. It brought back memories of his mother trying to organise them all into a mini choir and the chaos that usually followed.

"You're smiling," Kingsley murmured, his eyes bright.

George looked down at his hands and then back up to meet Kingsley's eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

"It's a good look on you."

George felt his cheeks heat and Kingsley chuckled lowly.

"You're mean," George muttered, though the smile didn't leave his face.

"Uh huh," Kingsley agreed. "And you're adorable."

"Shut up."

"How many more people are they going to take from me?" George raged, screaming at the sky. "How much more do you expect me to take?!"

Kingsley was missing. Had been for three days, along with Tonks.

Tonks had returned, and the look on her face had told George all he needed to say. He'd left the shack unwilling to hear the details. He had enough nightmare fodder to last him ten lifetimes and he really didn't need any more.

He'd thought… he'd hoped…

Kingsley had been George's anchor, his guiding light, his living angel. He'd been the one to keep George going, the one to hold him up when George didn't have the strength to hold himself up.

Without him, George didn't have a clue how he was going to even make it through a day.

He had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation for it, because George was warm. A body was pressed up against him, and strong arms were clutching him to a steadily moving chest.

George blinked his eyes open, surprised to find himself in his usual corner of the shack. Surely his imagination could have stretched to a nicer room and a bed?

"You're not dreaming, sweetheart."

George blinked. He knew that voice. He knew that voice and it hurt, because the reality was that he'd never hear that voice again.

He yelped when a large hand wrapped around his arm and pinched at his skin.

"That hurt, you fucker!" he muttered and then froze.

It hurt.

"How?" he croaked, pulling back to look into warm brown eyes. "How are you here?"

"I'm pretty good at escaping," Kingsley murmured, stroking George's face. "Couldn't leave you, could I?"

George didn't have words. He reached for Kingsley, pressing as close to him as he could. "I thought, I thought-"

"I know. I'm sorry."

George shook his head. "I… no. Thank you. For coming back, thank you."

"We're leaving today," Kingsley told him softly. "We… we're going to get out of the country, head for the continent. Nobody wants to give up, but we're being picked off one by one and, well, this isn't living, George. I want to live. I want you to live."

George nodded. "You'll stay with me though, right? You're not going to…"

"Of course I'll stay with you. For as long as you want."

George pulled back enough to look up at Kingsley. He'd known this was where they were heading, had thought that he'd lost the chance for this. He pushed up, pressing his lips to Kingsley's.

Kingsley kissed him back immediately, his fingers trailing up George's neck and into his red hair.

George shivered, for once not because of the cold. Kingsley chuckled against his lips and George smiled.

"I love you," he whispered.

"You are my life now," Kingsley replied, resting his lips against George's temple.

Whatever happened, George knew that he'd be able to keep going as long as Kingsley was there to hold him up and keep him warm.


Written for;

Character Appreciation - 14. Order of the Phoenix

Disney - C6. Lumiere - Someone on the light side.

Cookies Corner - 6. Twix - Biscuits

Book Club - Mrs Owens - Singing / Dress / Cobwebs

Showtime - 17. Angry

Amber's Attic - Rapper 1 - Order of the Phoenix

Buttons - O2. Scarf / D5. "It's snowing!" / W2. Angel

Lyric Alley - 12. But it still hurts.

Em's Emporium - 5. Midnight

Angel's Arcade - 11. Jyunichi - Sword / Devotion / Reaching for someone

Bex's Basement - 1. Amber - Voldemort Wins!AU

Northern Funfair - Snowman - Stone Eyes - Cold

Southern Funfair - Mistletoe - GeorgeKingsley

Eastern Funfair - Paper Snowflake - 1. Winter