For the Yule Ball: Write about falling asleep.
Also for the anon reviewer, Sarah, who asked for GeorgeDaphne, something not happy. Your wish is my command!
Word Count: 513
He is broken. Daphne can see that the moment her eyes find him in the crowded pub.
She understands, of course. George Weasley is well known, and there isn't a soul in wizarding Britain who doesn't know about his twin's death the day before.
Daphne hesitates. Her intentions are good, but will he believe her? Sometimes the Weasleys can be just as prejudiced as her House. Will he only see her as a Slytherin, an enemy looking to rub salt on the wounds?
With a shrug, she decides to move closer; she won't know unless she tries.
"Need a refill?" she asks sweetly.
He spares her a brief glance before returning his gaze to his drink. A scowl tugs at his lips, but he doesn't speak.
"I'm sorry about your brother."
That gets more of a reaction. He flinches at her words before draining the last of his drink and slamming his glass against the counter.
"Another," Daphne calls, gesturing for Rosmerta. "And a gillywater for me."
"Why are you being so nice?" he asks, and there's something in his voice that's half suspicion, half pain.
"Slytherins aren't all bad, you know. My family refused to back the Dark Lord," she answers simply, exchanging coins for the drinks.
George goes silent again, but his posture relaxes, and he chooses to sip this drink rather than down it as quickly as possible. Daphne takes that as a good sign.
"I miss him," he says, his voice so quiet that Daphne is barely sure he's spoken at all. "I miss him so much already. I don't know how I'm going to make it."
Daphne rests her hand on his. She can't imagine what he's going through. Just the thought of losing Astoria is enough to make her heart feel as though it's being ripped to shreds.
"I've never been apart from him," George mumbles, and Daphne notices the tears streaking his freckled face.
Her hands tremble as she reaches out and brushes her fingers over his cheek, wiping away the tears. George tenses, but he doesn't push her hand away.
"I don't want to be alone."
"You don't have to be," she tells him.
…
He wouldn't be doing this if he wasn't lonely. It's okay; Daphne wouldn't be here if she wasn't looking for redemption.
She should have stayed and fought. Instead, she had proven herself a true Slytherin, only concerned with saving her own skin. She's disgusted with herself.
If the only thing she can do is chase away his loneliness for one night, she'll take it.
…
She lays beside him, watching his bare chest rise and fall slowly. George looks peaceful now, if only in his sleep.
Daphne leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek before sinking into the pillow. She wishes this could be normal, but it isn't. She's just a soul with good intentions, trying so hard to make something right. This isn't love, and it will never be.
But it will have to be enough.
She closes her eyes and slowly falls into a fitful sleep.