Sequel: Anchor
Status: Complete! Check out, Anchor. It's the sequel to this story.

Love Gone Mad

THIRTY-EIGHT

"You're lucky to have snatched this place while you did, Mrs. Malfoy. This corner is the most sought after prize in Diagon Alley; seeing all the business it gets," a bright-eyed brunette spoke. She was dressed in a navy pencil skirt and matching blazer. After receiving a nod from her client, the real estate agent jotted unspoken notes onto her clipboard at hand.

"I have my connections," Narcissa Malfoy let her words run out smoothly. Triumphing in her grand prize.

Narcissa glided to the left side of the baron room, her stilettos clicking against the dented floorboards. She picked up her hand and taped three times on the wall. Hollow.

"High pathetically speaking, if one were to knock down this wall, where would it lead?" Narcissa turned to face Mrs. Clark, her real estate agent. Hands clasped and lips perched; awaiting an answer.

"I do believe that would lead straight into the shop next door; Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

"How quaint." A smirk slithered upon Narcissa's lips. Signing the deal.

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It had been three weeks since Fred's funeral and Adara was practically living with the Weasley's now. She helped the family with anything that needed to be done around the house. Laundry. Cooking. Console. Cleaning. Adara would have it done in a heart beat. She'd fallen in love with George's family and did everything she could to help them cope with the loss of their son and brother.

The previous day, Adara helped Arthur Weasley box up most of Fred's belongings due to Molly's inability to complete the task. Her tears didn't fall as often as the weeks before, but every now and again, Adara would find her letting silent tears of mourning fall for her beloved son.

Adara's promise to George that each day would get easier had proven itself true; however, he still couldn't mask the sadness that lingered within him. Life wasn't the same without Fred. He wasn't ready to go back to the loft and joke shop that he had once shared with his twin. Not ready to go back until today that is; George just didn't know it yet.

Adara slowly slinked out of bed, being cautious to not wake the sleeping frame beside her. She tip toed to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Adara took her shower at a leisurely pace, knowing it would be at least an hour until George would awaken. She got dressed and pulled her wavy, damp hair into a pony tail, letting a few stands fall messily to the sides. After applying a small amount of makeup, Adara strode back into her bedroom and was greeted with the sight of George's peacefully sleeping frame. A devilish smirk whisked its way across Adara's lips and she tackled the once slumbering body of her boyfriend.

“Good morning, handsome,” Adara cooed as she twirled her fingers through George’s hair.

He let out a dreary chuckle and swung his arms around Adara, smiling up at her.

"Good morning, gorgeous," George complimented as he squeezed her tight and rolled over. Adara let out a laugh and was now looking up at the man of her dreams.

"My, my," George gawked as his once tired eyes began to focus, "Why are you all dressed up?"

Adara walked her fingers down George's chest then met his loving gaze once more. Hazel on Sapphire. "We're going on a date today."

"Really?" George teased while raising an eyebrow, "I don't remember you asking me out."

Adara bit her bottom lip; George's crooked smile was contagious.

"George Weasley," she spoke alluringly, "I like you." Adara caressed the side of George's face; his pulse quickened. "Will you accompany me on a date today?"

"I thought you'd never ask," George replied with a wink then placed hundreds of kisses across Adara's cheek and neck.

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Adara escorted herself to the kitchen while George took a shower; she seated herself across the table from Arthur Weasley, who was reading the morning's post of the Daily Prophet.

"Good morning," Arthur greeted Adara from behind the paper, she saw his hand reach over and grab his cup of coffee.

She returned the welcome and glanced out the window to her left. Her eyes met several figures hovering in mid air, she couldn't make out their faces because of the distance, but she was certain the rest of the Weasley family were lavishing themselves in a game of Quidditch.

“Would you like a spot of breakfast, Adara?” Molly Weasley asked as she scurried into the kitchen. The whites of her eyes held an undertone of pink; she’d been crying again.

“No, thank you. George and I are going out for breakfast.”

“How lovely,” Molly beamed from ear to ear and began scrubbing down the breakfast dishes in the sink.

Soon George appeared in the doorway and Adara clung to his side. Both bid Mr. and Mrs. Weasley goodbye and strode out the front door.

“Hey George,” his brother Ron called as he sped toward the couple on his broomstick. “Want to play a few rounds of Quidditch with us?”

“Sorry, Ickle Ronnie,” George paused, he wasn’t used to saying that nickname without hearing the repeat of his twin. Adara’s small hand clenched his and he regained his composer. “I already have plans.”

“Alright, well, it’s your loss, mate,” Ron replied with a subtle smile at Adara, who smirked in return.

“Adara,” Molly called out as she exited the Burrow and strode toward her. “I almost forgot.”

Adara looked down at the envelope in Molly’s hands. “This came for you in the post today.”

“Thank you, Molly,” she expressed and retrieved the note from the woman’s hand. Molly scurried back inside and a warm breezed kissed Adara’s pale skin.

“Who is it from?” George asked as he wrapped an arm around Adara’s shoulder.

"My aunt," she breathed. Adara couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to Narcissa. After the Second Wizarding War, Adara heard her aunt and uncle had switched sides. Made an alliance. Begged for forgiveness to avoid imprisonment.

Adara tucked the white envelope into her purse, "I'll read it later, you're more important." She smiled up at George, who did hesitate to return the gesture.

"As I should be," George teased and linked his arm with Adara, who apparated them both to a street corner in Diagon Alley.

Adara felt George tense up beside her, "Can't we get breakfast somewhere else?"

"No," Adara hissed, "Florean Fortescue's has the best ice cream."

George chuckled, 'You want ice cream for breakfast, eh?"

"I'd eat it any time," Adara replied while looking up at the man who stood beside her.

"Alright then," George inhaled deeply and laced his fingers with Adara; silencing the desire run from this street that held so many memories.

Adara sat occupying a small, white, circular table outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Her legs crossed; right over left. Her hair danced in the morning breeze that blew past and she eyed George, who was approaching; with ice cream at hand, from behind her sunglasses.

George sat in silence as he listened to Adara talk, which consisted mostly of rambling and laugh at her own humor. Gosh, he loved this girl. He gazed at how beautiful she looked in her simple white dress; he couldn’t help by flirt with the image of her in another white dress. A wedding gown. She was perfect for him and him for her. He couldn’t express how much Adara meant to him. Having her by his side during the loss of Fred made things somewhat bearable and watching her interact so lovingly toward his family always stopped him cold. She was perfect.

“Shall we go for a walk?” Adara’s delicate words pulled him out of his train of thought and he grinned.

The couple rose from their seats and George strode to Adara’s side, wrapped his arm around her slender waist and kissed her atop the head.

“Thank you,” he whispered; squeezing her close.

“For what?”

“For getting me out of the house.”

“Anything for you, love,” Adara cooed. As the two walked, they drowned in one another’s presence. Oblivious to the world around them. Or, at least George was.

Adara had stealthily lead George to the outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. George froze beside her as he realized where his feet had taken him.

“Let’s go inside,” Adara insisted while tugging on George’s hand. Out of her peripherals, she caught a glimpse of a sold sign handing in the window of the building adjacent to the twin’s joke shop, although, she didn’t give it a second thought.

“I’m not sure if I can,” George admitted as he was plagued with the memories of all the times he’d walked through those doors with Fred.

“Please, George,” Adara beckoned, the tips of their shoes were touching. George removed his gaze from Adara’s pleading eyes; knowing he’d cave in a heart beat if he stared at her any longer.

“I just want to hear you laugh again,” Adara expressed as she wrapped both arms around George’s waist.

Unable to resist her lulling voice, George glanced down at the women who held on to him and let out a sigh of defeat. Adara took a step back, trying to cover her expression of victory as George fumbled through the key ring he held in his hands.

Selecting a bronze skeleton key, George took five steps toward the entrance to the building he didn't think he would have to face today.

Adara stood at George's side as he unlocked the door that creaked loudly as it opened. Adara brushed past him and stepped into the joke shop, waving her wand to illuminate the lights in the building.

George stood in the doorway, heart pounding against his chest; resisting the urge to cry.

"Come on, darling," Adara beckoned as she tugged his hands and pulled George inside.

The shop came to life right before his eyes. From the floor to the ceiling; everything rewound memories in George's mind.

Adara strode through the shop, staying in close proximity to George, but allowing him space to breath. To take it all in. To reminisce. To renew.

Her eyes caught sight of a luminescent pink fountain and her curiosity heightened. As Adara strode closer, a smile greeted her lips. It was her Love Potion. She'd given the recipe to George the day they broke up. Adara grimaced at the memory, inwardly cursing her foolish nature. She peered over her shoulder and caught sight of George standing in front of a wall of his joke products. Creations of his brother and himself. He was doing something Adara hadn't witnessed in over a month. Laughing.

Adara's throat tightened as she set down a vial of Love Potion she was previously clenching in her hands and strode over toward George; taking mental snapshots of the scene before her with each step.

Click. Click. Click. Click.


She wrapped her arms around George’s waist and laid her head against his back; hugging him from behind.

“You’re laughing,” she whispered as a single tear slipped down her cheek. Adara loosened her grip around George and let him turn to face her.

Adara’s heart fluttered as she studied George’s face. The same gleam his eyes normally withheld had returned. The color in his face had warmth. He was smiling. Not forced, as it had been during the past month. No, this time it was genuine.
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