WRITTEN FOR THE HOUSES COMPETITION, YEAR 10, ROUND 7

House: Slytherin

Class: Prefect

Category: Drabble

Word Count: 1000

Prompt: [Lyric Prompt] "You make me live."

Warnings/Disclaimers:

Harry hadn't agreed with the other Weasleys when they decided that enough time had passed and George would be perfectly alright living alone in his Diagon Alley flat, so he moved in about forty minutes after George, and things had been going fine.

George tinkered a little in his lab, and Harry tried not to worry about him as he hunted down Death Eaters for the Ministry. He'd tracked Travers for most of the night and early morning before having a lucky break, and he'd showered at the Ministry after dumping him in the holding cells. Then he'd stopped by the shops before heading home.

He was exhausted and it wasn't even noon, but there was no reason to hesitate outside the door. Everything would be fine when he stepped in, even if his assignment ran long.

George would be fine.

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George was miserable. His head was pounding, his stomach revolting and he could only groan as a bright light attacked his closed eyelids, bathing his world in uncomfortable red. An answering groan came from less than a metre away.

"Must have been a wild party," Harry said, casting a long shadow into the room as he blocked some of the evil light let in by the open door.

George opened an eye to glare at him and caught Lee giving Harry the two-fingered salute from the other side of the couch.

"In or out but close the fucking door," George mumbled around the awful taste in his mouth. Harry stepped in and closed the door, sending the groceries to the kitchen with a spell before turning his wand on the coffee table, charming the empty bottles into a conjured garbage bag.

Lee whistled lowly.

"Damn, Harry. You're a right housewife."

Harry showed him his middle finger but didn't stop straightening up the room that he and Lee had trashed the previous night.

"Feel free to remember you're a wizard and help out at any time, Lee."

Lee gurgled and turned around to hide his face in the back of the couch, almost kicking George in the family-maker as he did.

Harry laughed at them, and George usually loved that sound, he truly did, but right then it felt like his skull would split open at the tiniest encouragement. He groaned.

"Merlin, you're in a bad way."

George pouted, eyes still closed, hoping for mercy.

Harry, because he was an angel, just sighed.

"I'll go make lunch for when you pick yourselves up. I'll make enough for everyone. The hangover potions are in the bathroom cabinet."

George made a vaguely agreeing noise and did his best to melt into his old couch.

It could have worked, except that a potion vial started harassing him, hitting his arm over and over until he grabbed it from mid-air.

Of course, Harry wouldn't actually expect him to walk all the way to the bathroom under his own power, George thought fondly as he unstoppered the hangover cure. He heard Lee do the same next to him and got ready to throw his friend out so he could have a nice lunch alone with Harry. Lee obviously shouldn't have gotten his hopes up regardless of Harry's invitation.

When Lee was out of the door and George felt a little more human, he followed the delicious smell towards his small kitchen where Harry was mixing something in a pot. George hummed contentedly and wrapped his arms around Harry from behind. He was pretty tense, and George hoped nothing bad had happened at work.

"Smells wonderful," he said, nuzzling against Harry's neck.

Harry put down the wooden spoon in his hand and took a deep breath.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

George's head snapped up and he stared at the back of Harry's head, incredulous.

"What?"

"Am I too overbearing? Do you need more time with your friends?"

"What are you talking about?"

George felt Harry's shoulders shake against his chest.

"I don't know, I—it's just that I leave for a shift and you drink so much that you're barely coherent at 11 a.m., and I felt like things were getting better, but maybe I've gotten it all wrong. And you threw Lee out as soon as I got home—or is that it? Does Lee have a… an issue with me?"

A knock to the head would have shocked him less.

"Harry, what the hell are you talking about? I threw Lee out because I want to spend some time with you, and I wouldn't care if he had a problem with you, but he doesn't. He thinks you hung the moon and bitches every time I don't let him eat your cooking. I can drink less if it bothers you, but things are going fine. I never expected things to—" George swallowed, managing to push forward only because of how worried for Harry he was. "I didn't think things would ever be fine again, but these past few months have been good, right? Can you tell me where this is all coming from, please?"

Harry sighed deeply and sank a little more against George, turning so he could rest the side of his face against his chest.

"I'm sorry, I just—I know I didn't even ask before moving in with you, and sometimes I worry I'm just making things worse—"

George couldn't listen to Harry's self-doubt anymore. He gently turned him around and framed his face with his hands, making sure those green eyes were focused on him before speaking.

"Harry, I was moving through life like an inferius before you shoved your way into my flat and made me live again. Do you understand?" he asked, stepping even closer to Harry, their knees knocking together. "You make me live."

Harry sobbed, just once, and abandoned his forehead against George's chest. George enveloped him in his arms more securely. They stayed wrapped around each other for a few long minutes.

Then George asked, "Have you been up since yesterday morning?" And Harry laughed against him.