In his own rooms, George was on his back, staring at a water stain on the ceiling, closing one eye, then the other, narrowing both, trying to sort the feeling that was welling up inside of him. It was unfamiliar and yet not. He kept trying to corral it into a place where he could really take a good look at it, but it was airy. He thought back over the long weekend, the drug wasted week following Ron's visit, learning that the drunk witch was actually a Hogwarts student in the same class as his own two children, owling McGonagall, spending two glorious days with Fred, and then the Sunday dinner. He sighed. And found himself smiling at the thought of Ginny using the tea kettle. And suddenly the emotion he was wrangling solidified. It was satisfaction. And he hadn't felt that in decades.
He curled onto his side, holding the feeling close to him, trying to force it to act as buoy. Going on four days clean and sober and he still felt pretty good, but the prickling need to descend into dark unconsciousness had begun biting at the edges of his mind. Monday mornings were always the worst.
As though called by his desire to remain dry, two owls swept into his room, through the window he had left open the night before. They landed efficiently on the small bedside table.
He recognized the Potter family owl immediately and actually barked a laugh out loud. The owl scowled at him but lifted her leg dutifully and he removed the small bit of parchment tied there.
It works. We love you. Both of you. We're going to contact the Council about the elderly widow who's eating cat food for breakfast. G&H
He turned the parchment over, smiling, and grabbed for a quill on the table top.
Leave it to you two do-gooders to find a way to make a bit of fluff change lives. G
He tied it back on and the owl hopped to the window ledge and was gone.
The other owl was large and looked to be incredibly old. George fished a bit of owl tidbit out of the bedside drawer and handed it to him. He took a dignified bite and then raised his leg. It was from Headmistress McGonagall.
George, Janey Calamatis is suffering in both body and spirit. Nurse Spinnach has informed me that it's a withdrawal from alcohol. I would have appreciated being told more of these particulars last Friday morning. We are not sure whether it is the right thing to make her comfortable or to have her suffer it a bit. She is asking for you and has requested to attend some sort of meeting for addicts held in Diagon Alley. Please advise. HMM.
His feeling of satisfaction sank below him and he followed it down into the dark waters.
That evening, the Potter family was the last to floo into the Weasley patriarch and matriarch's living room. The rest of the red-headed clan and their spouses and offspring were already in attendance. George was the only absent face. Of the living. Of the dead, Fred's portrait had been turned towards the wall. Every sitting space was occupied and clever transfiguration charms had created more seats. Ron was seated on a toasted BLT sandwich, Hugo on his lap, Harry was settled comfortably on a divan-sized dustbunny, Lily on his lap.
Arthur and Molly were moving between the kitchen and the living area, distributing mugs of cocoa and a plate of biscuits. Finally Arthur stood still and Molly joined him. Mr. Weasley looked around the room at the burgeoned size of his family and felt something catch in his throat. He cleared it noisily and all voices went silent, all eyes on him.
"I do think the children should go upstairs, they can play in Ginny's old room." He looked apologetically at his young grandchildren. "This is going to be a grownups talk but I bet the first one up the stairs will find something fun beneath the bed." And the race was on.
He turned back to the room. "Thank you, all of you for coming on such short notice."
Dismissive murmurs rose and Molly smiled. "We remember having young ones at home on a worknight. Thank you. Sincerely."
Bill spoke, "You said this was about George."
"And so it is. We saw George yesterday at Ginny and Harry's house. Ron and Hermione were there, too. He doesn't look good."
Hermione interrupted. "But he sounds good. I thought he sounded better than he has in a long time."
Molly nodded, her eyes brimming. "That's why we want to talk about this, together, as a family."
"But without George?" Ron asked.
"Without George." Arthur nodded. "Apparently, Ronald went to his room above "The Triumphant Sword" and, well...maybe he should tell it."
"He's using muggle drugs. He's drinking. A lot. And he was in a room spelled with Forever Night. It was pretty awful."
Hermione continued. "He visits Fred as often as Headmistress McGonagall will allow him at the castle..."
Bill interrupted, "Does he see Freddie and Roxie when he's there?"
She shrugged and shook her head then continued. "He's come up with this idea..." her voice trailed off.
"Idea?" Charlie asked into the uncomfortable silence. Fleur and Bill on the sofa beside him leaned forward.
"He wants to teach Charms at Hogwarts," Molly said this, her voice proud but the tremble in it revealing her nervousness.
Percy ran a quick and unhappy hand through his hair. "That's madness."
All heads swiveled in his direction. "Why?" Arthur asked quietly.
"He didn't sit his 7th year OWLS, he quit the only job he'd ever had two years ago, then that complete and utterly terrifying nervous breakdown – this is all public knowledge." He wagged a pointed finger at the ceiling. "Now Ron's saying he's a druggie and lushington...no surprise there. And George thinks Headmistress McGonnagal will hire him to teach Charms to children?" He laughed, the sound was far from amused.
Audrey was nodding, looking up with a convicted sort of pride at her bustling husband, but the rest of the room looked stricken.
Harry stood. "If you're not going to support him now, Percy, if you're not willing to try to help him with this, then you might as well say so and the rest of us will work without you."
"Now?" Percy looked astonished. "Not support him now? I think he needed supporting when he dragged all of us through that spectacular break-up of his marriage. His own children don't speak to him."
Audrey was nodding. "Well, he left the day Freddie and Roxie got their Hogwarts letters..."
"I don't want to talk about those children right now." Molly's voice was shaking.
But Percy continued. "Where have all of you been while he was spiraling into this place? It's not as if none of us didn't know. Well, Charlie gets a pass because he doesn't live here, but really? The stories, the rumours, seeing how he actually looks at holidays and Sunday dinners. He griddled a half-galleon off me in front of Gringotts last Winter before either one of us even realized who the other was. He's wrecked himself good. Why the sudden interest in helping him now?"
"Why didn't you tell us that story before this?" Ginny was outraged.
"Please. I was embarrassed enough for all of us. He's a grown wizard and there is no excuse."
Molly began to cry and Bill rose quickly from the sofa and guided her to his spot where she sat heavily.
Ron was bristling visibly. "You got any opinions about the rest of us you'd like to get off your chest, brother?"
Hermione and Ginny both put a hand on his arm.
Ginny spoke. "I know what you're saying, Percy, and some of it is true. We've all been busy with our families, our lives, our jobs, our children. But he has an excuse and I think none of us have wanted to look directly at it. He touched on it a bit yesterday. It wasn't just Fred that died in the War..."
Bill held up a hand. "This isn't doing anyone any good. I agree, he's a mess and we've all been looking away from it."
Harry stood. "We need to talk about Fred. About Fred's death. About how that ripped George out of his own life. We've all been avoiding that more than we've been avoiding talking about George wrecking himself. Have we let George talk about Fred over the years? Not really. Did any of us actually think it was a good idea for George to marry Angelina right after the War?"
All eyes flicked quickly over to Molly and then away.
Fleur whispered. "It seemed like such a good idea, didn't it?" She looked around the room and no one would meet her eye. Bill smiled at her sadly.
"I think," Molly's voice was quiet but firm. "I think, we all thought George was stronger than he is. I think, after that terrible war, all of those senseless and tragic deaths, we didn't feel we could mourn Fred's death differently, more than, say Remus or Tonks. I can see my mistakes now. And me, the one who carried those boys, brought them into the world, nursed them at the same time. They would tangle together in my lap like a ball of yarn." She laughed and the room laughed nervously with her, hands beginning to dry eyes. "They told us, the midwives told us to put those babies to sleep in separate cots, but I knew we could never do that. Oh, not for trying." She looked up at Arthur who nodded at her. "The first week we put them each in his own wee crib but they howled to raise the dead and your father and I, well, we thought we were old pros at raising babies but those two boys threw all that out the window and we had to relearn everything." She looked up proudly at Arthur. "It was actually your father who took George out of his cot and lay him down next to Fred and we stood there, both of us exhausted beyond words, watching the two of them settle and sleep." She laughed. "I'd quite forgotten by that time what sleeping was!"
"We never separated them again." The twins' father said.
"I don't remember them ever being apart, even a single night," said Charlie.
"And now they're never together. Not really." Ginny said this quietly.
Hermione left the room quickly and returned with a box of tissues and passed the box.
Molly was crying openly now, tears wetting her face. "They never really belonged to me, to me and your father, not like the rest of you. They always belonged to each other."
"It's been nineteen years. Why does it still hurt so much?" Ron asked.
Bill blew his nose loudly and balled the tissue into his hand. "Are we saying that this is how George feels all the time?"
"Except when he's at Hogwarts. With Fred." Molly nodded, wiping at her tears.
"We've got to help him." Percy announced this, his voice now soft and forgiving. He looked at each Weasley and was answered with a firm nod.
"We're going to help him, then," said the room in unison.