A/N: Sorry it takes me so long to upload sometimes, guys. My laptops a bit bad and sometimes doesn't like to open word and the internet at the same time and it shuts down for no reason, making it difficult to write and upload. Sorry! :(
Chapter 22
Ridiculous.
Completely and utterly ridiculous. George slapped his brother. Hard. Right across the face. He didn't even care when blood began to stream from Fred's nose. He turned to look at his own children, carefully studying each of their faces in determination not to ever forget them. He painted a picture of them both in his mind which he desperately hoped would never fade.
"I want to see Molly," George said, while still glaring at his brother.
"Fred needs to get back to the tower anyway, so you may as well take him back," Angelina suggested, glaring daggers at her brother-in-law.
"I'll come straight back to take Roxy home," George promised, kissing his wife on the cheek and following his son towards the door, "Feel free to slap Fred if he continues to act like a gormless vegetable."
Angelina snorted and shook her head.
George followed his son through the Hogwarts halls. It was nice to stroll through the castle without the constant threat of death hanging over his head, despite the miserable circumstances.
When they reached the portrait, Fred confidently announced, "Almighty!" to the Fat Lady.
The picture swung forward, somewhat reluctantly, and George was sure he heard the woman whisper, "apparently", as she opened.
George clambered through the hole after his son and looked around the common room. It looked exactly the same as it had when he had been a Gryffindor, despite it being destroyed in the battle. Although, an edge of panic was darting around the room that evening- all the students were gaping gormlessly at their hands, faces shocked and miserable.
"Oh no," George muttered under his breath, "No, not everyone!"
After spotting Molly's friends sitting on the sofas by the fire, George made his way through the crowds of crying students.
"Hey," one kid George recognised, Matt, said, "Aren't you Molly's dad?"
"Her uncle, actually, but I get your confusion," George replied kindly, "Is Molly around?"
"No, she just went up to bed, she seemed a bit upset to be honest," a boy George didn't recognise answered.
"I'll go get her if you would like," one of the girls replied, she was snuggled into another boys chest, both looking slightly worried about their disappearing appendages.
"That would be great, thanks."
As the girl got up to go and fetch her friend, the boy she'd been sitting with looked at George closely, "you own that wicked joke shop on Diagon Alley, don't you?"
George nodded and smiled, "That's me."
"Wow. I've loved that place since I was a little kid! I've never been once to Diagon Alley without going in and buying something."
George's smile widened even more as the boy continued, "It's gotten so much better recently though, I loved all the products you brought out last Christmas! I don't think I've pulled a single prank here without using something from your shop."
"You pull pranks?" George asked, his eyebrow raised.
"Of course! Why, you're not going to tell me I'm at school to learn, not joke around, are you?"
George laughed, "That would make me the biggest hypocrite ever to walk this planet. No, I'm just glad Molly's, made friends with the right people."
The group began laughing, and when the girl returned a few minutes later with Molly behind her, the Gryffindors were still giggling childishly.
"What's so funny?" Moll asked. She looked as though she'd been crying, with red, puffy eyes and tear tracks staining her cheeks.
George wrapped his niece in a hug and looked her in the eyes, "You know what's going on, don't you?" he demanded.
Molly hung her head and nodded sheepishly, before explaining everything, sniffling sadly every so often. George and her friends listened closely, their jaws going slack and eyes widening.
When she finished, Molly once again buried her head in her uncle's shoulder, shaking as she cried.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone in that shop to begin with, let alone taken that phial with me, but I didn't know what else I could do and I-"
George hushed the sobbing girl and rubbed his hand in circles on her back, "I'll check it out tomorrow, Mol. I'll go there straight away after work, I promise. We'll sort it out."
Molly nodded and sniffed, "I'm going to bed."
"Ok, I'll write soon," George promised as Molly returned to the staircase, shoulders hunched.
George sighed sadly and wiped a hand across his brow.
24 hours. That would be it hopefully. All he had to do was remember long enough to sort everything out. All he had to do was keep his mind straight and get to that creepy store fast enough to stop the students from fading.
He turned back to Molly's friends. "Look after yourselves guys, I'll sort this out," he said before turning to the jokester boy, "And you, if you ever need a summer job, you know where to go."
The boy beamed and thanked George enthusiastically. The rest of the Gryffindors wished George luck as he made his way over to the portrait hole. Before he left, George wrapped his son in a hug, "That hand of yours isn't going anywhere," George whispered into his ear, "I promise."