"George?"
George looked up from his hands, which he had been staring at for the longest time and found himself under the gaze of his brother, Bill. He could also swear he could see a tuft of hair peering in the side of the doorframe that he was almost positive was Ron. George let his gaze fall down towards his hands again, after acknowledging his older brother. "You 'right?" Bill said finally, standing in an awkward spot beneath the two beds in the room cramped with new pranks, old pranks, pranks that were still in the works. The room was eerily quite compared to all he years it had gone through; odd it was for the rest of the family to not hear any ruckus coming from the twin's room. Shifting his weight, Bill decided against questioning the sanctity of Fred's bed … that had been kept in its exact conditions since the boy had gotten up that morning for the battle. George hadn't touched it when he got home and Mrs. Weasley hadn't even dared to enter the room.
Bill instead sat at George's feet. "Why shouldn't I be?" George asked, snarky almost though his words were screaming for Bill to leave the room. The fact of the matter was that the younger boy didn't look fine. His red hair had grown unruly in a messy mass atop his head and obnoxiously long, covering his face when there was a particularly large gust of wind; his eyes were hallow looking and sunken in and honestly, Bill wouldn't be the first to find out that it'd be quite a while since he'd bathed.
"Well—?"
"Did mum send you up here?"
"No, I came of my own—"
"I'm fine, Bill, get out!"
Bill lowered his eyes and fiddled with his earring. Not once had one of the twins ever yelled at him, especially in malice. In fact, he could guarantee that they'd never yelled at anyone in such a way, especially in such a curt manner. He nodded and rose up slowly, staring down the top of George's head as he left the room. George sat there for what felt like forever feeling the grooves of his teeth and staring at the lines in his palms until he finally let out a ferocious scream, cursing the heavens, cursing his life, cursing the Death Eaters and lastly, cursing Fred for leaving him all alone with nothing but a bunch of half-finished experiments and one ear. He screamed until his lungs gave out and his anger fizzled, with him laying face down on the sheets. He gasped for breath and finally calmed, running his fingers through his hair; shaking himself into normal wits.
He got out of bed, finally and pulled on a pair of shoes. He slipped through the house like a ghost and ignored his mother's offers of food, he hadn't eaten in days and gave a faint little nod to Tonks' mother and father, sitting aptly in the living room for dinner to be served. His hands were shaking a little as he stepped out into the lawn, his jacket whooshing around him. Off in the light of the setting sun, which was like a purple and red bleeding gash through the summer sky, was a silhouette of a young girl and a cascade of blond messy hair.
George was rooted to the spot. Luna was dancing around the yard, preoccupied with the tiny little Teddy Tonks in her arms as she sang quietly to him, a little lullaby that George's own mother had sang to all her sons. Beside him, he barely noticed Andromeda step up, a near mirror of the Lady of his Nightmares, Bellatrix but with softer eyes and kinder smiles. No, like her, he was watching Luna. Her hair span around her and her feet merrily came on and off the ground in dainty little steps and she stopped finally as the cooing little baby boy fell fast asleep in her arms. Luna stepped over to Andromeda and handed the baby over with care, kissing the top of his head with her pink little lips and Mrs. Tonks sauntered back into the house.
Luna stared up at him and then, George wondered how he'd gotten himself into this spot again. He'd be spending an awful lot of his time up his room and barely spoke to anyone, so he hadn't seen Luna since the funerals. Orphaned, Molly Weasley hadn't thought it wise for her to stay alone at her house so she'd ordered her to bring over what she could rummage from the remains and come stay in one of the rooms at the Burrow. George finally realized his thanks in his mother's decision. The sun made a beautiful color in her eyes. He was taken aback; he didn't know what to say.
No worry because Luna spoke first. "Were you wary?" She asked with an ironic smile and at first George didn't know what she was talking about, until he fallowed her gaze to a gnome just sprouting in the ground.
"Of Willowgimps? Yeah, in fact, I think I might've spotted one scurrying away from the garden this morning … from my window." He smirked, a kind of devious smirk and he wasn't entirely sure if he was humouring her or not.
Luna spun around in a circle and her purple dress swirled around her pale legs and she seemed merry, quite happy within herself—in her own little Lunaverse. "Are you making fun of me, George Weasley?"
"Making fun—? No, 'course not, Luna."
"Good, then."
Her lithe frame seemed to lean into him for a moment before he could feel her warm lips on his cheek, he instinctively smiled, something that hadn't appeared truthfully on his face in days. Glinting with sparkle, her blue eyes looked up into his and George had to look away. Unprovoked, he never had a problem making eye contact with anyone but Luna wasn't offended; he really wondered if she could ever be. There was just something that he dreaded about looking her in the eyes too long. She took his hand and haphazardly ran through the fields over hills guided by own her wits and enthusiasm. George was lucky to have the sun for a few more minutes to tell him at least in which direction they were going. She was doing it again, dancing instead of walking as the world whizzed around them and the sun glared into both their eyes. He found himself just chasing her – not only her form but her freedom, her childlike wonder as her blond hair seemed to float and whisper to him and putting him into a trance. They were running through a field of tall grass reaching their middles, one that he only faintly remembered because his heart was pounding in his ears from running so fast.
When finally she let go of his hand, the sun was nearly done setting and the stars were starting to come out. The tall brown grass parted for her as she laid down with her blond hair a curtain around her head, like a glowing halo in the dusk. "George?"
"What if there're bugs?"
She laughed as almost she was talking to a young child whom she had to explain everything to. "Bugs don't come around these parts, George." For some reason he trusted her and lay down beside her in the grass. The two of them lay in silence for a while, so close that George could feel her arm brushing against his – warm and casual but far enough that he felt that he were in his own world.
"Show me which ones you know." She said quickly glancing at him before pointing her up at the stars. They seemed to cluster together than break apart as they ventured farther into the sky; they shined very bright but it seemed that Luna glowed much more than that in the night sky.
"I don't know any, I'm 'fraid." He said shaking his head.
Luna smiled and pointed her frail little arm into the sky, her finger pointing at one of the million stars. "Ophiuchus." She said simply.
"Where at?"
Looking at him, Luna took his wrist in her hand and pointing at the constellation with his hand instead. George blushed a scarlet at the rush of heat coming from their contact. "There. Ophiuchus." She repeated and finally he saw. He looked over, his body suddenly feeling heavy in the grass and she looked at him with that warm, familiar smile – the same that he'd received when she found him crying and George found an overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms. He knew it weren't the best decision, his mum would be furious but that'd be nothing compared to what Ginny would say. He didn't care, he held ol' Loony Luna to his chest with affection and ran his fingers through her silky blond hair – it smelled of flowers and mint tea. She curled against him.
They laid there for eternity in the grass with Ophiuchus watching over them.
Inhaling a breath of cold air, muggy and full of pollen, Luna's eyes turned upon George and still holding her close he strained to meet them. "I've always wanted to tell you to be careful."
For a moment, he riddled himself with a few emotions, foremost that the barely corporeal girl in his arms had shown concern for him and mostly how the dreamy-quality that usually filled Luna's voice had disappeared for a moment. "What for, Luna?"
Her face stayed blank and she again laid her head against his chest, listening to the thump thump of his heartbeat as she turned it over her in mind. She'd only seen Fred and George once or twice; one particular time had been in her third year when they had been sneaking potions out of Snape's office. She smiled at them and they smiled back before they left. Ginny told her later that they did experiments, all in good fun for their pranks and all. For their company, she'd later learn and it couldn't do anything but give Luna a little sense of dread in her stomach. That night, Luna felt close to George in a more than physical sense and that their auras had bonded through the stars and intertwined like the skeins of fog that steamed up in the sky. The words compelled Luna, as they poured off her tongue.
"With your experiments. You're Wizarding Wheezes. My mum … she died of fiddling with things like that. She was brilliant at magic; just like you are." She paused and sat up, her hair cascading over her shoulders and the moon giving a glow that made the redhead's heart beat faster beneath his sweater. He wasn't sure to be flattered for her to be saying that he was brilliant, considering the connotations. "It's not your time to die, George. I'd like you not to die. I like you very much." Her words held that same infliction it did always but they carried so much in their far-off voice that George had to repeat them a couple times in his mind.
"I'll be careful, Luna" was all he could muttered, embarrassed and flushed there. He was happy that the moonlight was there to conceal him before he said: "I don't think you're very loony at all, y'know. You're probably one of the wisest, I bet."
With that, Luna smiled and George couldn't lower his eyes as her arms raised in joy as she began to dance to a music that was all her own, inside her head. Luna was not preoccupied with what other people thought. She danced when she wanted to dance, she smiled when she wanted to smile, she screamed for peace at the heavens when she'd like to and she praised the Lunar gods as she pleased. Deep down though, she had a great bit of her admit that George Weasley thinking that she wasn't loony made her gleam with delight. The shadows moved along her face and she could hear off in the distance some chatter, some night birds and the trees whispering to them. Suddenly, he was dancing with her and she giggled as she danced beside him – he was quite horrible. His limbs moved about frantically and there was no grace and intent but his soul was in it, Luna could tell, she could see that all his demons were being released by his busy, flailing dance and she made no complaint.
He pulled her on top of him as he fell back into the soft grass. Their limbs were a tangle and they were both panting for breath, their faces hot and pink as they looked at each other with her hair creating a curtain around their faces as if for a moment they were truly alone. George seemed to come upon a realization as he stared up into her honest blue eyes; they were so truthful as if she never told a lie. He felt as if with just one look she could read all his sins.
"Are we friends, George?" She said finally.
"'Course, Luna."
"Friendship is the only cement that will ever hold the world together, George," She nodded her head and he felt himself grow even warmer when her face came too close. "And I feared you were the most important."