Fred had been home for an entire week, and nothing George, or anyone else for that matter, did helped. He barely ate, rarely left his bed, and had begun drinking constantly. George sat at the counter in the shop, and thought over his options. He could devote himself entirely to taking care of Fred, trying to help his twin through whatever it was he was going dealing with, but who would run WWW? He rubbed his temples. He would have to close the shop if he did that, so that certainly would have to be a last resort.
The ding signaling the arrival of a customer pulled George from his thoughts. He looked up to see a petite blonde standing in the door way. The sun was setting just outside the windows, and the effect the lighting was having on the young girl was angelic. Gods, she's beautiful! George thought to himself.
"Hullo George!" She said brightly in her sing song voice.
George's jaw dropped as recognition swooped in. "Luna?!" He asked, still not convinced that she could have developed so bloody perfectly without him noticing.
She laughed and walked up to the counter. "Hullo George." She said again. Then held up the sign that had been setting in the window sill since Fred's departure. "I was hoping I could help you with this." She smiled softly.
George reached forward and gently took the HELP WANTED sign out of her hand. Where had Loony Lovegood gone? And who was the beautiful, sane, job seeking woman in front of him? He looked at the sign again and laughed. "That might actually be perfect."
Luna tilted her head to the side. "Perfect tends to be an illusion." George laughed again. There she is!
"Right you are, love. Right you are." He smiled as they began to go over the details of the position. With Luna working, he just might be able to help Freddie and keep the shop running.
Luna had been working at the shop for a little over a month before she had had enough. Every day, sometimes three or four times a day, there would be loud banging coming from the loft above the shop. And every day, sometimes three or four times a day, George would dismiss the noise as a boggart.
She flicked her wand towards the door, locking it, before storming up the stairway to George's flat. She threw open the door and followed the noise to its source.
There she found George sitting, head in his hands, in front of the door blocking the source of the banging. She twirled her wand between her fingers. "Since when is a simple boggart a match for a wizard of your talent?" She asked softly, before kneeling in front of him.
George raised his head, but it was as if he was looking straight threw her. "Bit of a metaphor, I suppose, love." When Luna didn't say anything, George continued. "When we were younger, anytime I had to face a boggart, it always showed the same thing. Always. It was always Fred suffering. Fred where I couldn't save him. And it's like I can't even reach him now to try to save him." He looked at her now, eyes filled with hopelessness. "I can't save him, Luna." His voice broke when he said her name.
She stood suddenly, and stepped over him to open the door behind him. George scrambled to his feet to stop her, but it was too late.
Fred was mid tantrum when Luna threw his bedroom door and startled him into dropping the picture of Hermione he was about to throw. She accio'd the picture into her hands, and shook her head, before setting it gently back in its place beside his bed.
"All of this… Because of Hermione?" She said quietly.
Fred laughed hoarsely. "Who else? Who else could be worth this much pain?" He dropped onto his bed.
"And you think this is a Fred that would make her want to come home? Some mess of a boy who is so inconsiderate to the torture he is causing his family and friends every day?" Neither Fred nor George had ever heard Luna use a tone so harsh. "Don't look so surprised. Anyone who paid any attention to the two of you could feel how in love you were. But this? This isn't Fred. It's time to get it together."
Fred sat in silence, Luna standing above him, and George watching from the doorway, for what seemed like hours. Finally, he nodded. "You're right." He whispered, then took her hand into his. "Where was this profoundly wise spirit all these years?" He asked her.
Her eyes clouded and she looked away. "Sometimes…. Sometimes you have to suffer to become who you're supposed to be." She thought distantly to her father, before meeting Fred's gaze. "Perhaps that is fitting for the both of us, yeah?"
And for the first time since Hermione left, Fred smiled. A painful, heartbroken, but healing, smile.