*TW* Suicide, death, blood, mental health

Chapter 5

The entire school was buzzing the week following Sirius Black's break in. Everyone seemed to have a theory as to his motives, almost all of them revolving around Harry in some way. So far, Vivian's favorite was the theory that Black had broken into the castle to steal Harry's blood in order to make a duplicate of him that was loyal to Voldemort, hypothesized by Oliver Wood at dinner the night following the break in. She'd had to make extreme efforts to stop herself from laughing in Wood's very serious face; it was just silly. She thought it was most likely that Black simply wanted to kill the poor kid, but who was she to deny the man his melodramatic theories?

What she couldn't shake from her mind was the question on how Sirius Black entered the castle. No one is supposed to be able to get past a dementor without the wretched creatures sensing them. So how did he get in? Her only theory was that Black had somehow gotten into the castle prior to the dementors arrival, but if that were the case why wait so long to make a move? It made no sense to her no matter which way she looked at it.

Walking into the common room that Friday, she spotted Harry sitting alone in the far corner, seemingly trying to avoid the still probing eyes of other students. She felt another twinge of pity for the boy. He obviously enjoyed being the center of attention about as much as she did, and lately he seemed to be nothing but the center of attention.

Walking over cautiously, she put her hand on the back of the chair opposite him.

"Mind if I sit?"

He looked up at her hesitantly, probably wondering if she was going to start hounding him with questions about Black's intentions.

"Sure," he said, eventually giving her a halfhearted shrug and returning to the essay he had been writing as she sat down.

"Thanks. If I were you I would be telling just about everyone to fuck off at this point," she commented casually as she pulled her charms homework from her bag.

He looked back up at her, surprised.

"I'm hoping if I ignore them for long enough they'll eventually get bored," he said quietly as he stole a glance at the group of 4th years that had been staring at him since he sat down.

"Well then you are much more patient than I," she smiled kindly at him.

"More like used to it," Harry grumbled looking back down to twirl his quill in his hand.

"Mmm" she nodded in understanding. "Unfortunately this school loves its gossip."

"I just want to be normal. An uninteresting, unimportant 3rd year."

She was surprised by this omission, though she definitely sympathized. She shuddered to think about how she would feel if she was forced into the limelight for something she hadn't even done.

"Don't we all," she said with a laugh that earned her a confused look from Harry.

"But…" she continued, suddenly serious, "if you ever really need a place to get away from any gawkers, let me know," she finished with a wink.

Harry just blinked at her for a minute but eventually smiled and gave her a slightly confused thank you.

"Besides, at least I have the first quidditch match tomorrow to look forward to. Even if it's just against Hufflepuff," he said, making a face.

"Right! I'm excited to see the Gryffindor team in action! I'm sure it's going to go great!"

0-0

The quidditch match did not, in fact, go great. Not only was the weather horrific, with the rain from the previous day continuing in torrents, and neither did Gryffindor just lose the match to Hufflepuff, but somehow the dementors had also made their way to the quidditch field, perhaps sensing the influx of human emotions in the area. Whatever their motives, they converged on Harry who had flown high above the field going after the snitch. One second Vivian was trying to keep the hood of her rain cloak on while shivering in the stands next to Ron and Hermoine. The next second she was wide eyed as she watched Harry speeding downwards towards the ground.

"Oh my god," she whispered in shock as Ron and Hermoine screamed Harry's name next to her.

Vivian wanted to shut her eyes, terrified to see what she was certain would be her friend splattering onto the grass, but she was frozen in silence as the surrounding audience screamed in fear. She felt Hermonie's nails gripping into her arm but was unable to look away from the certain horror.

Suddenly, Harry's fall slowed, allowing him to hit the ground hard, but soft enough that he thankfully remained in one piece. She looked up at the faculty stands and saw Dumbledore standing with his wand pointed towards Harry.

She let out a huge breath of relief as her body went slightly numb, aware of Hermione pulling her down the stairs to the field with Ron close behind her.

A sizable crowd had gathered around the now unconscious Harry as people from the stands and the players in the air began to hover around him, worried.

"Stand back!" Dumbledore pushed his way through to stand over Harry. "Hospital wing at once," He ordered, levitating Harry into the air, the Gryffindor quidditch team, Vivian, Hermoine, and Ron in tow.

Madam Pomfrey tsked but did not say much as she ushered Dumbledore to the nearest bed and kicked the rest of them back out into the hallway so she could evaluate his wounds without their hovering presence.

Vivian sat on one of the nearby benches and bit her cuticles anxiously, still jittery from the event she had just witnessed.

"What's up?"

She glanced to her side as George sat next down next to her, still in his quidditch uniform, hair dripping from the rain.

"That was intense. I wasn't expecting to see something like that today."

He could tell. Her eyes were so wide that he could see the entirety of her irises with white in every direction.

"Pomfrey will fix him right up," he replied, nudging her shoulder with his own.

"No, I know. Just scared me is all," she tried to smile back at him. It had scared her, I mean really who wouldn't be scared watching their friend plummet to the ground from hundreds of feet?

But she knew she seemed really shaken up, probably more so than she needed to be. While the boy had survived, his fall had been uncomfortably similar to her brother's death, which she had had the misfortune of witnessing only the year prior.

It had been totally out of the blue, knocked her completely on her ass. One morning her brother was nothing but normal and next thing she knew she was getting a call that Eli was on a roof a hundred feet up and threatening to kill himself.

She had rushed there, her heart racing so fast she felt like she was going to pass out. She had made it as a crowd formed around the building's front, all eyes pointed upwards towards the man on the ledge. She could barely see him up there, a figure swaying back and forth as if he were drunk. She had been unable to reconcile the brother that had only hours ago been joking with her about one of his bad dates to this man on the ledge who wanted to die.

Without taking her eyes off him, she had pushed her way to the front of the crowd, as a man with a megaphone attempted to coax her brother away from the edge. She felt her airways constricting, as her brother continued his eerie swaying stance on the edge, looking straight ahead rather than down. He couldn't do this. Not to her. Not after everything they had been through together. Not after everything he had promised her.

Suddenly without warning, he tipped forward, his feet leaving the ledge as the rest of his body skyrocketed to the pavement below. The scream that escaped her mouth didn't stop as he fell, didn't stop as his body hit the ground, didn't stop as his blood and viscera splattered onto the surrounding onlookers, didn't stop as she tried to run to what used to be her brother only to be stopped by one of the police officers who had been securing the scene. Her scream had only managed to warp into sobs as she collapsed in the officer's arms. She'll never forget the look in his eyes as he whispered that he was sorry, or the look in Elder Lorenz' when he came to collect her from the police station.

She had had to identify him by the ring he always wore, the one that had been a gift from their mother for his initiation, just after his 13th birthday. It had been too small to fit any of his fingers for years at that point, but he still insisted on wearing it on a chain around his neck, one which she pointed out from the small table of personal effects that the police forensic team had managed to preserve. They had told her there was nothing else substantial left for her to identify.

Seeing Harry fall had shot her right back to those moments, the exact emotions she had felt when it was Eli replaying themselves in her head. She noticed her hands had begun to shake, and moved to sit on them to cover up her fear, an action that George noticed but didn't comment on.

Her eyes began darting back and forth, wondering if there was any chance of getting away from the group without any of them noticing. She just needed a few minutes by herself to take some deep breaths, get her heartbeat under control, get Eli out of her mind. Much to her dismay, before she even had a chance to stand up, the group's attention was called by Madame Pomfrey who had returned to the hall to let them know they could come see Harry.

Still trying to blink away the memories that wouldn't stop flashing in front of her eyes, she followed George into the hospital wing, hanging back as the Gryffindor team and Harry's closest friends surrounded his bedside as the boy began to open his eyes.

The entire group let out a collective sigh of relief as Harry was able to respond and joke with the twins, but Vivian couldn't stop her heart from pounding. All she could see was Eli's impact on the ground, over and over and over and over again.

Backing away from the rest of the group while they focused on Harry, she felt her airways begin to constrict. Gripping onto a nearby bed frame she tried to ground herself; Harry is fine, no one here died but the thoughts failed to quell her growing panic. Her brain was only accepting visions of Harry falling from the hundred foot building juxtaposed with Eli's gore in the Hospital Wing.

Feeling her breath quicken, she needed to get out of that room, away from the hospital bed with the boy who fell. Backing away slowly, she quickly stumbled backwards and turned into a run, fleeing the hospital wing and shoving open the door of the nearest bathroom she saw, the tears having already begun quickly streaming down her cheeks.

Locking herself into a stall, she willed herself, begged herself to calm down, to breathe normally, but all attempts of control quickly emptied from her brain as the scene of her brother falling played again in her mind. She didn't understand what was happening to herself. She felt like she was losing control of her mind and body.

Pulling her head down into her knees and wrapping her hands around the back of her neck, she cried, shivering as a cold sweat took over her body and not caring if there was anyone else in the room to hear her sobs.

She wasn't sure how long she had been there on the bathroom floor when she heard the lavatory's door open as a tentative voice whispered her name.

The tears had stopped by that point, replaced with a growing feeling of numbness that had begun to envelop her entire body. She could only groan in response to whoever had come looking for her and had made their way to stand in front of her stall.

"Vivian, open the door, everyone's worried about you," Alicia.

"Heidi found me and the twins in the common room after we got back from seeing Potter. She said you burst in here looking like you were about to faint and locked yourself in a stall. She said you didn't respond at all when she tried talking to you," Alicia's voice was laced with concern.

"Look, if you're worried about Harry, he's gonna be totally fine! He'll be ready to play in the next match!" she tried the positive approach when she still got no response.

Vivian almost could have laughed at the absurdity. Of course that's what they would assume she was freaking out about. It's not like she had told them much about her brother, certainly nothing about his death.

"I'm fine now, Alicia," Vivian mumbled as she opened the stall door and walked past her to the sink avoiding her friend's eyes.

"Oh you're fine? That's a relief," Alicia responded, voice dripping in sarcasm clearly referencing the state of Vivian's appearance.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she looked rough. Her hair, though now dried from the rain at the match, was knotted and curling up at odd angles. Her clothes were wrinkled and her tie and collar were pulled loose in an attempt to make breathing easier at the peak of her panic. Her face looked puffy and red while her eyes looked exhausted and dull.

Sighing, she looked away from the mirror to splash cold water on her face - not that it would help much.

"Look I don't want to talk about it okay? But my brother…fell like that and he didn't survive. Seeing Harry fall it…it felt like it was happening all over again," she finally said, turning to face Alicia but not meeting her eyes.

"Oh," was the only thing Alicia could come up with in response to that. She wasn't used to Vivian being so upfront.

"Yeah," Vivian responded, looking up at the ceiling and willing the tears not to start again.

The two stood in silence for a little while, before Alicia came to stand by her friend and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Let's go back to our room. We can drink the firewhiskey I stole from Lee and talk about unimportant stuff. Or we can just go to bed - up to you."

Vivian gave her friend what she hoped was a grateful smile. Stolen firewhiskey and unimportant stuff sounded amazing.

Walking back to the Gryffindor Tower, Vivian realized the sky outside had darkened and the hallways had cleared out a bit. She must have been in that bathroom stall for hours. She felt another feeling of gratitude wash over her as she looked at her friend, who was still giving her worried glances as the two walked through the halls. She definitely needed someone to pull her out of there - she didn't think she would have had the strength to do it herself.

Entering the common room, Alicia immediately steered her towards the staircase only to be quickly intercepted by Fred and George, who had apparently been waiting for the girls to return.

"Where have you been?"

"I turned around and you were gone!"

"And you're nowhere to be found-"

"Then Heidi comes up to us-"

"Scares us with some story-"

"What happened?"

Vivian's eyes darted between the two brothers, trying to follow their ping ponging interrogation through the brain fog that had begun to creep in.

"None of your business what happened," Alicia said firmly before Vivian could even begin to think of a response to their questions and continued pushing her shoulders up the girl's staircase where the twins could not follow.

"Viv?" she heard George call from the bottom of the stairs.

Turning to look, she tried giving him a small smile, but was pretty sure it turned out as more of a flat line than an actual smile. Based on the distressed look on George's face as she turned back up the stairs, she had not been very convincing.

She allowed Alicia to pull her into their shared dormitory and seat her on her bed while Alicia pulled out two glasses and a huge bottle of amber colored liquid. After pouring them each a glass, she stuffed one in Vivian's hand and leaned back next to her at the head of the bed.

"To getting drunk!" Alicia suddenly yelled out, thrusting her glass forward.

"Here here" Vivian smiled halfheartedly, clicking Alicia's glass with hers.

Despite the horrid events of the evening, and the emotional turmoil that followed, it was more than easy to ignore her problems after her second glass of firewhiskey as the burn of the liquor became less noticeable. And even easier when Alicia pulled out her latest copy of Quidditch Times, so the two could ogle the players in their uniforms. The pair had gotten through about three-fourths of the giant bottle and had returned to their favorite game "Fuck, Marry, Kill: Professors Edition" when Angelina, their third roommate returned to their room.

"Angelina!" the inebriated girls yelled out to her from their spot on Alicia's bed.

"We missed you!"

"You should hear what Alicia just said!"

"Want some firewhiskey?"

"Come drink with us!"

Angelina didn't say anything at first. She just stood in front of her drunk friends with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You know, George is about to have a coronary worrying about you," she eventually said to Vivian with a raised eyebrow. "He's convinced that something is seriously wrong."

"Ugh, he's always worrying! The guy needs to learn how to lighten up a little bit," Vivian rolled her eyes, her words slurred.

"Mmmmm I don't know he's pretty relaxed about basically everything else…" she smirked, sending a knowing look to Alicia.

Vivian looked between her friends, her drunk mind not following the sudden tonal shift.

"What are you guys smiling about?" she glared at her roommates.

"Oh nothing."

"Nothing at all," they both agreed, still smiling at each other.

"Okay, whatever," she snapped at them, reaching again for the bottle of firewhiskey. "I'm finishing the rest of this if Angelina won't drink with her friends," she glared up at Angelina, who did not seem upset in the slightest.

"All yours, girl!" she said with a laugh.

0-0

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the next day was rough. Vivian woke up with a headache that had skipped right past throbbing into splitting. Opening her eyes proved to be a difficult feat, as it seemed that the entirety of the world had begun spinning around her. She had briefly tried to sit up, but had quickly regretted that decision when a wave of nausea hit her, throwing her back down to her pillow.

Alicia, who had drank substantially less than Vivian had the night before, tried and failed to get her out of bed for breakfast and then again for lunch, but her insistence that she would feel better once she had food in her stomach was only met by miserable groans and a retching noise from Vivian's mountain of blankets.

By dinnertime that night however, Alicia had enough and forced her out of bed reiterating that she was not just going to lay there wasting away all day.

"Here, put this on, the twins and Angelina are waiting downstairs and we're leaving in 10 minutes," she said, tossing a sweater at Vivian, who had slumped down to the floor after being pulled from under her covers.

"Just let me die here, Alicia please! I promise I'll be fine tomorrow," she begged with her face pressed firmly to the cool floor.

"No. 10 minutes," was Alicia's only response before stomping out of the dormitory slamming the door behind her.

Vivian let out a long, long groan as soon as she heard the door close. She was pretty sure this was the most hungover she had ever been in her life. If she was any older, she might be of half a mind to start drafting out her final will and testament, seeing as she felt on the brink of death.

Pulling herself up from the floor by her bedsheets, she shut her eyes to fight the wave of dizziness that threatened to send her back to the ground before slowly moving to put on the outfit Alicia had picked out for her.

She knew her friend was probably right, she would definitely feel a lot better once she had eaten, but she had also been avoiding the twins and anyone else who might have seen her little episode the day before. She had not had time to fully process the emotional ordeal she had gone through, what with all the drinking and whatnot. She had obviously known she wasn't over the death of her brother, but she had never reacted that way before other than right after it happened. The feeling of being unable to stop panicking had unnerved her and the following feeling of numbness, though temporarily subdued by the firewhiskey, had persisted into the next day and was still present as she reluctantly made her way down the dormitory steps to meet her friends. Up until that point, she had been able to ignore the gaping hole that Eli's unexplained suicide had left in her chest, for the most part. But right now, other than the numbness, her emptiness was all she was able to feel.

"There she is, there's America's Sweetheart!" Fred yelled, a bit too loudly grabbing the attention of a few lingering first years and not helping the continued pounding in her head. "Get enough sleep, have ya?" he asked with a cheeky grin as she walked like a zombie over to them.

"No," she grumbled as the group walked through the portrait hole and headed towards the Great Hall.

"Well I for one am just delighted to finally see your bright and shining face for the first time today at this early hour of 6 pm. And can I just say you look incredible. And Georgie here was worried something was wrong," Fred said, elbowing his twin who sent him a dirty look in response. Vivian was fairly certain he was purposefully speaking at a volume that could shatter glass.

"Okay," was all she could muster up, closing her eyes to rub her temples as the group walked through the castle. She began to fall behind the group, wanting nothing more than to be in silence.

"Hey," said a voice that was suddenly next to her. She could have cried. Was it so hard to be left alone at this school? She sighed and opened her eyes, not surprised to find George walking next to her.

"Are you okay?" he said in a low voice, not wanting the others to overhear.

"I'm just peachy, George. Feeling like a million bucks," she snapped at him, the words coming out harsher than she intended but not able to care from the pain in her head.

"I figured. Which is why I wanted to give you this," he said, handing her a small vial with an orange liquid inside. "Hangover cure, new product of yours truly and his less appealing twin. We figured out a combo-"

He was cut off by Vivian abruptly stopping her walk to twist the cap off and down the whole bottle, not caring what the ingredients were. Nothing could possibly make her feel worse than she already did. Shuddering slightly at the concoction's bitter taste, she immediately felt the pain in her head subside and her nausea disappear.

"Well you can consider this one a success. Now I do feel like a million bucks," she said with a cough and a small smile gratefully up at him.

He beamed down at her, before his expression quickly turned serious.

"What happened yesterday? I know you weren't that upset over Potter."

She sighed, the momentary happiness she had felt quickly disappearing as she again felt the stab of empty in her chest.

"I'm fine, George," she said in a drained tone, as she resumed walking towards the Great Hall. She did not want to discuss feelings that she hadn't even begun to process with George and she especially did not want to discuss them surrounded by all the students and staff at dinner.

"Doesn't seem like it," he said, his long legs catching up with her easily. "It seems like-"

"Oh my god!" she stopped and turned quickly to face him, the frustration thrumming against the back of her eyes while his looked back at her in surprise. "I was upset about something. Now I'm not. Can you please. Just. Drop it."

He blinked and averted his eyes from her then, moving around her to catch up with the rest of the group, only mumbling a quick "Sorry," as he passed her.

She sighed again. Great. Now I'm being a dick to my friends. Thanks a lot Eli.

Vivian was uncharacteristically quiet at dinner that evening, the stress of her probable panic attack and the weight of Eli's memory feeling like a ten ton brick on her shoulders. She had spent the majority of the evening picking at her dinner and only contributing the minimum to conversations around her. She had noticed George giving her worried glances throughout the meal, but she didn't have it in her to meet his gaze. She knew she was going to have to apologize for being so mean to him when he was only trying to help her but she was in no mood to get into another deep conversation about feelings with him at the moment.

"He's a git is what he is!" Ron was busy complaining about some kid in their year when Vivian decided to tune back into the conversation.

"Malfoy's an arse for sure."

Malfoy. Vivian was pretty sure she recognized that name from the many, many, many hours she had spent listening to her fellow Gryffindors complain about the Slytherin house. Scanning her eyes along the green and silver table, she spotted the small blonde boy, though he definitely seemed to be trying to hold himself to appear larger. He was surrounded by his cronies and smirking at something another Slytherin was saying.

"I think he seems kind of sad," she suddenly found herself saying aloud before she could stop the words.

The group quieted and all eyes turned on her with that confused look she had grown oh-so used to seeing from them.

"What in Godric's name are you talking about!" Ron yelled at her incredulously. "You really think that smug fuck seems sad right now?" he said gesturing to Malfoy who had begun to laugh at whatever the other student had said.

"No, not right now," she sputtered, embarrassed to suddenly be the center of attention. "I mean in general he has…a bruised aura," she nodded, still looking at the Slytherin table.

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Ron asked again, his volume and the betrayal in his eyes ever increasing.

"Ugh forget it," Vivian grumbled, turning back down to her plate, not having the energy to argue.

"No, what do you mean?" George suddenly spoke up, giving her an odd look she couldn't decipher.

She sighed, looking back up at the blonde across the room.

"I don't know. I guess he just seems…kinda hopeless? And like he's trying to fill a void of some kind," she said evenly, still looking at the kid.

Okay, so she was definitely projecting a little bit. Sort of the pot calling the kettle black for her to call anyone else hopeless, or accuse them of trying to fill a void. But looking at the kid she felt a similarity to him, in a messed up way she could sort of relate to the Slytherin. She knew that his parents were Death Eaters and blood purists who looked down upon those they deemed "lesser", beliefs the boy definitely seemed to carry as well. But she also couldn't imagine that parents like that would give their children much of a choice in what they believe or who they surround themselves with. And what could he do, go against his entire family, all their friends, and everything he had been taught? That was a lot to ask of someone who hadn't even turned 15 yet. She had also noticed the way the boy flinched ever so slightly when someone moved their hand too quickly in his peripheral. Yes, she definitely could relate to him.

"Well I think my definition of hopeless and yours vary dramatically," Ron rolled his eyes, annoyed at her.

"Hmm," was her only response as she finally took her eyes off Draco who had turned to sneer at them, seeming to have noticed the group staring at him from their table.

She stayed quiet for the remainder of the meal and only picked at the little food she had put on her plate, much to the chagrin of Alicia who had been watching her like a hawk. She also didn't say much as she trudged back to the Gryffindor common room at the tail end of her friend group. She had wanted to go back up to her dorm and go right back to bed, but Alicia blocked her way to the staircase.

"Nuh uh, you locked yourself in the room all day, you are spending time down here around other people tonight because it is good for you," she said, shaking her head at Vivian and ignoring any attempts to reason with her.

Huffing, Vivian headed over to the couch in front of the fireplace. If she was going to be forced to socialize, she at least was going to do absolutely none of the work. She released a breath of pent up frustration and exhaustion, as she collapsed onto the cushions, staring blankly into the fire.

"Long day?"

She tore her gaze away from the flames to see George standing in front of her, with a hint of worry in his eyes.

She sighed. And it just kept getting longer.

"They're all long," she answered, trying to smile up at him but it turned into more of a grimace than an actual smile.

The corners of George's mouth turned down as he sat down next to her, eyeing her warily.

"Is everything okay, Viv? You've seemed really…upset today. I mean I know I overstepped and you're hungover but you just seemed sad. More sad than I think a small quidditch injury or a bad headache would really make you."

She closed her eyes and leaned back into the couch. Why did he have to be so fucking observant all the time?

"I'm sorry, George. You were only trying to be a good friend and I shouldn't have snapped at you," she said finally in an apologetic tone.

"I didn't take it too personally," he said with a small smile, as he booped her nose trying to make her laugh. "Because I knew something else was bothering you. Which is…?" he trailed off waiting for her to complete the thought.

She closed her eyes again. It's not that she didn't want to talk to George. She actually really liked talking to him, and found herself able to be more open with him than she was used to being with people. She just didn't enjoy the idea of unloading her problems onto someone who couldn't do anything about it. She didn't like the idea of anyone feeling sorry for her or looking at her with pity. And, childish as it may have been, she didn't like the exposed feeling she got whenever she considered opening up to George. It made her stomach twist in a weird way, a feeling she would almost call fear if it wasn't accompanied by her frustration with her own inability to express her feelings.

"Harry falling brought up some bad memories," she admitted, knowing he would keep pestering her until she gave him something. "Memories I wish I could forget," she squeezed her eyes shut, as the image of what remained of Eli on the ground flashed in her brain again.

He didn't say anything for a while as he stared at her trying to read in her eyes the hidden meaning in her words.

He sighed eventually, turning to look at the fire so they were sat side by side on the couch. Without looking at her he weighed his words carefully, conscious of the fact that pushing too hard could set her off again.

"Well when you're ready to talk about it I'll be there to listen," he said slowly, his hand sliding over the top of hers, lacing through her fingers.

She rolled her eyes at his cliche, but there was a part of her that really did want to tell him. Tell him everything about Eli, her parents, her family, how she felt as she saw Harry fall and how scared she had been at her reaction in the hospital wing. Even though it spoke against every instinct she had, every rule she had been taught to follow, and every logical thought her brain came up with, she wanted George Weasley to know her.

"My brother…" she began slowly, flipping her palm up so he could hold her hand properly. "He…he died by falling off a building. Or jumping rather," she continued quietly, looking down at their hands.

"I see," George said as he watched her face evenly.

"I was there. I saw it happen, the whole thing," she watched as a hundred different emotions flitted across George's face. She winced, unsure what reaction she would want from him. The idea of being pitied was obviously out of the question, but she wanted him to say something.

"Merlin that's…I'm so sorry," he said quietly as he squeezed her hand.

"It was horrible. And he left me all alone…" her voice barely a whisper, as George let go of her hand to put his arm around her shoulders.

"And I don't even know why he did it, that's the thing that eats me alive the most," she continued a stab of bitterness in her voice now. "I didn't notice any signs. And he didn't leave a note, didn't say anything to anyone, no explanation. Nothing," she could feel her heartbeat speed up and a burn in her eyes as she tried to blink away the tears, unsuccessfully.

"He left me all alone and he couldn't even tell me why," she looked up at George who was looking at her not with pity, but with concern, worry. She hadn't planned on telling him that. She had never told anyone about her anger at her brother for leaving her with no explanation to make her understand his decision. She had always felt guilty for having those thoughts, worried that others would think her callous and uncaring, focused on herself when it was her brother that had been the one in pain. But for whatever reason she knew George wouldn't judge her.

"Maybe he didn't know why either," he murmured soothingly into her hair as he reached up to wipe the tear that began to fall down her cheek. "Maybe he thought he would be burdening you if he told you why."

She could understand that.

"In any case, seeing Harry fall reminded me of… all that," she said, straightening her back in his arms, trying to wave away the cloud of emotion that had returned over her head.

"Right," he said, nodding his head with his arm still wrapped around her shoulders. "That would do it for me too, I'm sorry," apologizing for assuming she had simply been overreacting to Harry's fall. He had never considered what it would mean to lose his parents, or lose any of his siblings, let alone witness their deaths. Thinking about it now, just the idea of losing Fred or Ginny or even Percy made his stomach drop. But he also had a huge family, a sturdy net of support for him to fall into, no matter what; a clan of people who would always be there to pick up any pieces and keep him moving in his life. She was all alone.

"Me too," she said glumly as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

The two stared into the fire for several minutes, each lost in their own separate thoughts. George couldn't shake the feeling of sorrow he suddenly had for the girl. Everything about her just seemed so sad. Bruised as she put it with Malfoy at dinner. He hated the feeling that she had no one in her corner.

"Come on," he said, suddenly hopping up from the couch and offering her his hand. Hell, he was in her corner, even if no one else was.

"What? Where?" she responded, confused by this sudden change.

"The kitchens. I know someone who needs a dessert when I see one."

She smiled up at him then, a real smile that showed off her uneven dimples. She did need a dessert. Taking George's hand she allowed herself to be pulled towards a large painting of a bowl of fruit, giggling slightly when George tickled the pear granting the two access to the kitchens and the house elves who offered them a huge tray of pastries and sweets. She was enjoying a chocolate chip-walnut cookie, her favorite, when she caught George staring at her over his cupcake.

"Thanks for cheering me up," she smiled again at him.

"Anytime," he replied with a lopsided grin.

Thank you gottalovethenbooks for my 1st review on this story! Means a lot :)