Falling For

Having taken a part-time job at a muggle bookstore in an attempt to get myself out of the house, I began to find that I was spending more time alone than I did at home. It was never my intention, to be honest - in fact, it left me feeling like I was constantly running on empty. It seemed to be a good system though – George’s wage paying for our wizarding supplies and my muggle money supporting our grocery and souvenir bills. George appeared to brighten every time I returned home with muggle magic tricks – especially if they were the gag kind. It felt like I was doing the right thing at the time.

Lee had been staying with us for a few days now, having heard Angelina had emerged from the woodworks. It was lovely to have a house full of chattiness and laughter – and it was absolutely refreshing to arrive home to a warm meal and an atmosphere that didn’t seem so dark. Angelina had settled into our system quite well, much to the boys’ enjoyment. Sometimes I found her waiting outside Fred’s room, probably in hope that he would emerge one day, but it ended the same each time - with her fallen face and my wince of discomfort.

Other than that, George was brightening more and more each day. I found that his friends were his life source, and I was disappointed in myself for not figuring this out later. As much as they came with sore memories, Lee and Angelina were still fresh and free from the Weasley curse. Of course they still hurt like we did, but they had a way of healing us both with little pain.

I tried to visit Noël as much as possible, but our schedules had begun to clash with my new job. He was hobbling around like an old man most of the time – the gash on his stomach still aching even after months of therapy. He had trouble digesting some foods, and most alcohols – which seemed to depress him, even if it wasn’t that important to him in the first place. I did feel bad for him though, he was still alone in his big house. I know he wanted to fill it up with a family as soon as possible, but I also wasn’t ready to acknowledge the idea of him seeing someone else.

It had taken me a while to unearth the feelings I had buried for him. Seeing him curled up in the rubble, bleeding all over our hands, had flicked a switch inside of me. If he had gone that night, I knew I would have been done forever. It was a horrible feeling, knowing that I would have cried more for him than I did for Fred – but Noël had always been there to pick me back up again when I needed it the most. He was special to me, and it took me a while to come to terms with the fact that he was a very important figure in my life.

Pushing those stray feelings aside though for the strength of my relationship, I tried to spend as much time with George as I possibly could. It was beginning to get a little easier to talk to him, finding his presence more refreshing each and every day. Our bedroom life had also warmed – still simmering gently and not as hot as it possibly could have been, but just enough to keep us both sated. I was beginning to feel a little better about things, inspired by his lingering fingers and the sweet breath that swam through the soft hairs on the back of my neck.

I almost felt like things were really progressing - like someone had finally lit the candle that was collecting dust in the middle of our lives. Fred used to watch that candle, and he always made sure it never, ever went out. We couldn’t bear to look at it since he had left us. But with the added entertainment of Lee and Angelina, it had burst into life again – casting a lovely light across our faces, and even though the shadows still lurked behind us, it burnt on gently with each huff of confusion.

But one Tuesday, after a long night of card games and cups of teas, our discussion turned to our time at school. George and I had been dancing around the subject for months now, considering every memory was filled with the name we all couldn’t bear to hear. Lee and Angelina were laughing about something that had happened in second year – long before my time, so I was alone in the conversation - before someone uttered an 'Oh, and remember that time when Fred-?'.

It was like someone had sucked the air from the room – leaving us to sit stagnate at the kitchen table without a whisper to breathe. George rubbed his nose with the side of his palm, and placed his cards face down on the pale wood. My eyes, searching between the three of them for the first signs of break, found Lee’s after a quick round. He was already wincing, pushing his thick strands of braided hair over his shoulder before turning to the redhead.

"What about that time he accidentally set Sprout on fire?"

George guffawed and Angelina let out a sniff of laughter, my eyes widening to a sudden horror. "Merlin, really?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation light before it dulled down into tears or something equally as painful for the four of us.

"Yeah, herbology in our third year." George told me, breaking into a genuine smile. "Right on the seat of her pants, too." He clarified, soon grinning at my intense grimace.

"Oh Merlin, I remember that." I told them all with a gentle smile that shone behind my cup of tea. "Those were her favourite robes too."

"A whole week of detention." George finished, picking up his cards and hiding his happy eyes behind them. "Though I covered for him for most of it."

"Yeah, he was trying to get me to come to Hogsmeade with him that weekend, under the guise of a 'study date'." Angelina piped in quietly, hesitation coating her voice. "He tried me all week... Finally said yes on the Friday night."

"He always was such a smooth talker." I snorted back and George nodded happily, nudging my knee with his own. "Oh, and change suit to hearts."

"Ah, Merlin's bloomers, Min! Do you want me to lose?" My boyfriend groaned and Lee let out a booming laugh, throwing a matching card down. Lee, who had always been a small boy in stature, had grown into himself by then, and now had the body to match his voice. "What about the testing period for the puking pastilles..? When Fred managed to get sick all over a first year student four floors down?"

"I forgot about that!" Lee added. "How he couldn't keep it in and just spit-up over the side of a moving staircase!"

I began to laugh heartily, hiding the tears that had welled from the giggles in the wrist of my sweater. George managed to recreate the shriek of the first year perfectly, and that sent us into fits, leaning our elbows on the table to cover our mouths - so the neighbours wouldn't complain about the noises we were currently making. I'm sure they would not have minded, as they had not heard a peep from us for months.

“How about the Yule Ball – when he gave McGonagall the ride of her life?” George grinned, turning his happy gaze to me, and I tittered at the memory of the tiny teacher being waltzed around the room by the very mischievous redheaded lad. “He even offered to walk her back to her room.”

“I’m still surprised she didn’t make him scrub the floors after that.” I added, and Lee chortled gaily. “She really liked him, didn’t she?”

“All the teachers loved us, regardless of all the trouble we caused.” George smirked, pleased with his input into our lives. “’Cept for Snape, but he only enjoyed the gnats living in his underpants.”

“You made school fun.” Lee told him and the redhead’s eyes softened, complimented by his indulgent words. “There was always something happening with you two…”

“Flitwick left that swamp there for a month after you left.” I divulged him, finding joy in the way his smile widened ten-fold.

“And everyone gave Umbridge hell after that – I remember having quite a black market of dung bombs living under my bed for months.”

“I never got any of those letters you owled me either, George.” Reaching for his hand, I ran my fingers over his scarred knuckles. “And if I did, the wax was broken and they smelt of sugary tea and cat hair.”

Lee beamed and I squinted with delight. “You left us a right mess, you trouble-makers.”

The beginning of an overjoyed sentence left the redhead’s mouth, falling stupid after being interrupted by a loud sniff. Our eyes snapped to Angelina, who had welled up in pain in the corner. With her face covered with an equally as rough hand, the girl began to shudder and shake.

“I really miss him.” She squeaked, well out of her strong character. Apparently it had all been too much to handle, her fists balling into shaking domes that hid her trembling lips. I had never seen her cry in the open before – even at Fred’s funeral she had somehow managed to keep a strong face. “I really, really—“

I felt the sudden weight of the true feelings that fell from her mouth. George tensed beside me and Lee had apparently frozen, leaving me to keep her gaze with my own watery blue eyes. Having thought we had moved passed all of this, I realised that it had only just started, and we were still bottom tier tear catchers that offered little support with our glassy stares and inability to grasp the situation with steady hands.

Standing up to busy myself, I headed to the sink under the influence that I was fetching her a glass of water. A chair shifted and I felt the pressure of a painful hug, her hiccups breaking through the silence that had swallowed us whole. Unable to stop the new tears that burned from the corner of my eyes, I shivered over the sink like a broken willow that couldn’t handle the sudden breeze.

Looking out into the neighbour’s lounge room, I felt the draft through the billowing curtains that laced our kitchen window. Flashes of fire burnt down my cheeks and I couldn’t figure out how to stop the pent up tears from escaping – ruining my clean streak since Fred had left us. I had promised myself that I would be strong, but seeing the strongest woman I knew turn into a weeping child had left me feeling weak and feeble under a column of ache and panic.

Fumbling for the faucet, I fetched her a glass – the tumbler shaking so hard that it was impossible to keep the water steady. Placing it on the drying rack, I hunched over and found solace in the shining surface of the sink – trying to keep my mind free of the discomfort that had draped itself over me. All I could hear were her sobs and it was draining me – sucking all the happiness I had just found out through the hole in my heart that the troublesome redhead had torn through when he had left us. I tried not to make a sound, successful in the slightest – waiting desperately for George to find me and tell me it was going to be okay.

I waited in vain, steadying myself gently with the soft sweep of my palm across my cheeks. Turning, in anticipation of any kind of comfort, I found Lee seated stiffly to my left. George and Angelina had wrapped themselves into a cloud of hurt – the comfort seeping from his pores leaving me struck for breath.

As petty as it was, I could feel the sting of jealousy ripping through my stomach and into my heart - as if he had stabbed me himself. He had never held me like that before, not in that way – not even when Cedric had gone. It made me cry a little harder, my fingers finding the glass that sat behind me to throw it down my throat in attempt to cool the guilt that was crawling up my gullet. I wanted to force myself between them, to feel the touch I was so desperately craving from the man I had always loved. Why had he never given me that chance? The chance to have him tell me it was going to be all right, just like those words he was mumbling into her ear as he kneeled beside her.

Every time she looked him in the eyes, she cried harder. I understood her problem, considering the fact that he shared the same face as her old lover, and gazing into those brown eyes left her just as breathless as I was during the first few weeks of pain. Unable to read the message in her eyes that scrolled too fast, I couldn’t bear to look at them anymore – and I had to turn away, catching Lee’s panicked look that told me he could read my mind.

An ache in my jaw signified that I was clenching too hard – my sad fingers spilling the remaining drink down the sink. I just could not handle the fact that he was not looking at me – that he couldn’t break away from her for one second just so he could check my status. The guilt that washed through my stomach made me sick, and I hunched at the middle a little – trying to force every bad feeling back into the depths of my mind so I could bury them late at night.

I wanted him in bed with me, so we could tangle our legs together and rub our noses – and I craved his hands cradling my jaw, so he could hold me straight and tell me we were safe from all of this. I know now that I should not have been so bitter, and I wish I could have remembered that his gentle soul knew no bounds of comfort. He understood her pain just as much as I did, even more. And even though he could not cry for her, I could see that his eyes flickered with every ounce of empathy he could muster – his hand that braced the back of her neck soaking positivity through to her core.

But I could not handle it. I could not handle the way that he held her – like he should have held me. I turned back around, welcoming the stiff breeze that was blooming through the silky curtains that once let the light in. Nothing has ever matched the feeling I felt that night – the bruising of my heart that pumped nothing but envy and terror, knowing that I had the chance of losing the man I knew I needed more than anything else in the whole wide world.

I wish I could remember it, though. Just one taste… One minute, just to be back there… and I would have reassured myself that it was nothing serious, nothing to be paltry about, but my young mind had something else to consider in that point in time. It was then I realised how well Noël had held me in those situations, and it was then that I realised that Noël had always held me tighter than George had ever managed…

The realisation broke my heart.