Erklings.

George shivered involuntarily as the lashing rain and whipping wind drenched him, mingling with his tears. A shaky hand reached out and touched the gravestone, dripping with the falling rain; George’s fingers grazed it lightly. A sob emitted from his throat as he crouched closer, his numb fingers now tracing the letters softly.



George sighed, sitting down, crossed-legged on the soaking grass in front of his brother’s gravestone, pulling a hand through his sopping, ginger hair. Drawing in a deep breath, he began to speak.

“Hey Freddie, happy twenty first birthday, I wish you were here. It isn’t right, you know…you not being here. It was hard enough at Christmas. Mum knitted you a scarf with the letter ‘F’ on and put it under the tree and when I turned up on Christmas morning...alone…” George broke off, another sob wrangling its way from his throat before he began to speak again, “she asked where you were and then she quickly realised, she burst into tears and wouldn’t come out of her room for hours, Dad had to coax her out after a while.”

Another shiver ran up George’s spine, ignoring the weather he smiled weakly at his brother’s grave, he was staring at it intently as if Fred was going to pop up at any moment and yell ‘April Fool’s!’ but it was quite on the contrary, it done nothing except drip with water. George let out a frustrated groan as more tears spilled from his eyes, the continuous ache in his chest become considerably heavier with each sob.

Goosebumps ran across his cloaked skin, his robes were sticking to him like glue, soaked through and through. George was numb all over, not from the cold, from the fact his brother was no longer there with him. Another angry noise came from George, but was drowned out by the lightning that crashed over head.

“I bet that’s you Fred, you’re angry I can’t move on, aren’t you?” George whispered solemnly, trying to wipe the moisture off of his face. “I’m trying, I really am. I’ve managed to get back into the shop now; I can do that, at least.”

“I think he would be very proud.” A voice came from behind George. “You’re doing well, baby steps George, take it slow.”

George’s head whipped around to see who had disturbed him, his wand ready to hex or curse the person. His angry expression softened as he saw the short, straggly, blonde girl, standing, just as wet as he was, with a distant expression on her delicate features.

“Luna?” George whispered hoarsely, not recognizing his own voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, me? I was looking for an Erkling, my father would like me to lure one so he can write an article on them for The Quibbler.” Luna explained softly, looking at George, who diverted his red, puffy eyes from hers. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, yeah. Just…you know…just...” George stared but gave up as his voice cracked; he stood up, swaying slightly.

“You know, George…Harry told me something his Godfather said to him. I think I'm going to tell you, yes…I think I am.” Luna said firmly, a look of concern now holding onto her features. “The ones who love us, never truly leave us, in here.”

Luna had placed her nimble hand, palm down onto George’s heart which skipped a beat, the ache in his chest lessening slightly as his own hand found its way on top of Luna’s. George took a step forward, his breathing speeding up considerably as Luna smiled.

George pulled her into a tight hug, Luna squeaked in surprised but slinked her long arms around his neck and sighed happily. George, for the first time in a while, let out a soft chuckle as he pulled away looking down at Luna, her gray eyes glistening in the sinking sun.

The rain was now letting off as the sky became painted with the beauty of the sunset, ever so slowly making its way down the horizon. George looked up and smiled, properly as he thought Fred, you sly git. George remembering when he had a crush on Luna, during their seventh year at Hogwarts .

Knowing this was the signal he had been praying for, soaking wet, George placed his hands softly on Luna’s own drenched, tiny waist, as she stared up at him, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Their faces inches apart as George’s heartbeat increased a considerable amount, his breathing was ragged and uneven as Luna looked unfazed, he decided to go for it, feeling as if Fred was egging him on, in his ear; ‘C’mon Georgie, do it, go for it. You’re a bleeding Weasley for Merlin’s sake!’ George bit his lip and closed the gap between Luna and him, she giggled softly as she kissed him back, ever so gently.

The heavy aching in George’s chest seemed to have died and been replaced with a tiny yet powerful spark of something, something that made George’s stomach overflow with butterflies, his veins overcome with adrenaline, it was something that had been missing for quite sometime, it was - hope.