#billweasley

He shakes his head, even though he yawned. The moon casts a glow inside the room that’s enough for me to keep working, I wouldn’t want to turn on the lights and wake everyone up. I say, “You’re tired, George, go back to sleep.” 

“I’m not tired.” he protests, and his eyes blink slowly. It’s been this way ever since I can remember. Every night before they go off to Hogwarts, we have a sleepover, and every night, I can’t sleep, my heart aching from the idea of missing my friends so much, and George would sneak in downstairs, eyes droopy and force himself to stay awake. 

“We send each other letters everyday.” I say, reminding him that we would still be close, and maybe reminding myself too. He lays his head on the back of the sofa and he hums, “It’s not the same.” 

“I wish you could come to Hogwarts with us,” he muses, and I try not to think about it too hard. My friends, my closest friends every year would go off and spend the entire school year far away from here, all the way in Scotland where they would learn magic and I would stay at home, missing them. He says, “Remember when mom and dad found out that you knew about us?” 

I chuckle, remembering the memory fondly. It’s forbidden in the Wizarding World for a muggle to know about magic, but one day, when I was I think eight or nine, I was wondering outside my home, and I noticed a tall large house that was leaning so slightly, and I can’t remember why but I went towards that house, only to be flung backwards by a mysterious force. 

George and Fred had stolen their older brothers’ wands and a spell had gone haywire. They rushed to help me, and they couldn’t hide from me the magic that I just experienced, maybe because they knew that I’d tell my parents who would eventually talk to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley who would then ground them for the rest of their lives. 

“We kept it a secret for a long time.” I add, it took them years to find out, and maybe it would’ve taken them longer if I hadn’t slipped up. George laughs, “If only you wouldn’t have mentioned Hogwarts.” 

“I was sad you were leaving! What was I supposed to do?” I exclaim, but my voice still low trying to be mindful of the rest of the members of the Weasley family that were sleeping upstairs. George shuffles closer to me and he repeats, the corners of his lips turned down, “I wish you could come with us this year especially.” 

We’ve done this five times before, but it doesn’t get easier each year. Why couldn’t summer vacation be longer than just six weeks? I mirror his actions, placing my hoop beside me and moving closer to him, our thighs almost touching. I ask, “why this year especially?” 

“I heard from Charlie that there will be something special happening, a tournament, other wizarding schools coming too…” he trails off, his eyes unfocused before adding in a low voice, “a Ball…” 

“A Ball? You’ve never had a Ball at Hogwarts before.” I note, surprised, from their stories Hogwarts didn’t seem like a place for such festivities, they always had to be the ones to liven the place up with their brilliant pranks. Another thought enters my mind, a ball is basically a fancy dance, and a dance means that he’ll have to ask someone. I avoided his eyes, trying to sound as casual as I could. I inquired, “Do you have anyone in mind…for that?” 

“Not really…I was thinking Fred and I could go solo,” he hums. I don’t think about the relief that I feel and I chuckle, “As if Fred would pass up an opportunity like this with Angelina.” 

He chuckles as well. Fred has never been one to be shy when talking about the girls he likes. He has been going around flirting with their entire Quidditch team, first it was Spinnit, then Bell, and this year it’s Angelina. I do think this time it’s different though, he couldn’t stop talking about her gorgeous hair all summer. 

“That is, if Charlie isn’t bluffing. He could be finally trying to get back at us, besides, I think this year I want to focus on our jokes more,” he says, moving the topic of conversation, and I’m grateful for the switch. The image of George dancing the night away with someone other than me, gets me all jittery. I ask, “what prank are you going to start with?” 

“Hmm I don’t know, but I was thinking we finally do the fake knife thing you mentioned.” he suggests, and I clap my hands excitedly, and I move closer to him on the sofa. I add, “The one where you and Fred fake a fight in the Great Hall and he ends up ‘stabbing’ you in front of everyone?” 

He nods, “I’m sure it’ll give everyone a big scare, especially the professors. Fred and I just have to figure out what to fight about, and set the scene well. If we’re doing this, then we’re going to do it well.” 

“Ohh, I wish I could see it.” I say, before I have the time to process my words. George doesn’t mind it, he reaches over to grab my hand, he says, “I’ll make sure that you get a video.” 

“How? I thought muggle stuff wasn’t allowed in Hogwarts.” I say, remembering the time when I tried to give George a pager so we could talk while he’s at Hogwarts, but it exploded as soon as they arrived inside the castle. He says, “Yes, but there’s this kid in Ginny’s year, and he always walks around with this camera of his, I’ll tell him about the prank before and I’ll tell him to take a video of it.” 

“I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.” 

“You wouldn’t be ruining a thing, besides, It would be worth it so you can see it.” he mumbles, and his cheeks flush. I’m sure mine are the same. I try to not move my body so he doesn’t realise that he’s still holding my hand. He whispers, “I’m really going to miss you.” 

“I’m going to miss you too.” 

***

I’m laying on the grass in the middle of the field in front of the Weasley’s house. Bill and Charlie are visiting this year and I decided to pop in to say hello. I always visit Mrs. Weasley throughout the year, she says it gets lonely without everyone around. I have to agree with her, the quiet during the school year is eerie and uncomfortable compared to the joy and noise during the summer and winter breaks.

Spring has only just started a few weeks ago, but the flowers are already blooming to their fullest. I close my eyes and breathe in the soft air that blows from above the hill. A shadow covers my face, blocking me from the sun. I open my eyes softly and see a mop of ginger hair standing over me. It must be Bill or Charlie, no wait, it’s- I ask, “Fred?”  

“In the flesh,” he says with a smile on his face. I quickly stand up and grin. I ramble, “You’re back, you’re back! You’re back early! What are you doing here, it’s the end of April? You still have a lot of weeks left in school.” 

“We left, we quit!” Fred cheers, he explains, “Couldn’t stand Umbridge in the slightest and we don’t need the degrees anyways, we won’t need them for our joke shop.”

“Ugh, it’s so great that you’re here.” I exclaim, clapping my hands together. Their new professor was an awful person, the things they told me about in their letters is simply unforgivable. I feel better now that they’re both away from her. I look around a bit, and I find that George isn’t anywhere near the field where we’re standing. I pout and ask, “Where’s George?” 

“At least act like you’re happy to see me a bit more than that before asking for the love of your life.” he teases me, a large laugh erupting from his throat mid way. My cheeks heat up, and I playfully punch his arm. I say, “I am happy to see you, and besides he’s not the love of my life-” 

“Who’s not the love of your life?” George says, as soon as he appears in front of me in a flash. I stumble back and place my hand on my chest, in surprise. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to his apparating thing that they do. My cheeks turn even more red as I wave him off, “Nothing, no one.” 

He turns to Fred in question but Fred only shrugs his shoulders, and sends me a subtle wink when George gives him his back. George finally looks at me and he smiles. He closes the space between us, and he covers me with his arms. I wrap my arms around him in a hug. I inhale the smell of cinnamon and fireworks and his cologne. He whispers in my ear, sending goosebumps over my neck, “we’re back…I just couldn’t wait to see you.” 

“You liar, Fred told me that you quit school.” I say, pulling back from the hug, and Fred interrupts the private moment, he says, “I don’t think he’s entirely lying, love.” 

George’s head snaps to his brother and he glares at him. A terrifying voice booms from the bottom of the hill, a terrifying voice that I know all too well. We all tense as we hear Mrs. Weasley shout out the twins' name. I ask, “I take it you didn’t talk to her about this before you left.” 

“I’ll go talk to her. You two catch up.” Fred says, while walking down the hill and towards the burrow. Mrs. Weasley starts shouting again, but the voices quiet down as they close the door behind them, taking the conversation inside. George sinks down to the grass, his knees close to his chest and his hands covering his face. 

“It’s going to be okay, George.” I reassure him, but honestly, I have no idea. Mrs. Weasley has often expressed her distaste for their liking for jokes and pranks and especially when they decided they want to pursue it as their jobs. I do think they can make a career out of it, but I don’t know if Mrs. Weasley will support them. 

I sat down beside him, our hips flushed together. I repeat my thoughts, “I fully support your dreams, George, no matter what.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he replies. He uncovers his face and the sun shines its bright rays across his face, making his beautiful brown eyes glimmer. My breath hitches. I only now notice the large scar on the bag of his hand with the words ‘I must not tell lies’. I reach out and grab his hand gently, looking over at it with concern in my eyes. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” George says, trying to make it seem like it’s nothing. It looks like someone carved the words into his hands with a knife. I grave the cut over with my thumb, holding his hand gently. The words are cut in deep too. I sigh, “George, this is terrible.” 

“Don’t worry, we rub an ointment on it every day, so it only hurts a little now,” his words offer little comfort as I gasp, “It still hurts?” 

The scar looks like it’s been there for a long time, it’s already started to heal. It’s no longer a deep red but rather a softer sort of pink. He chuckles nervously, trying to soften the blow, “I mean, no it doesn’t hurt, of course it won’t fade but-” 

“It’s going to be this way, forever?” I exclaim, and I take in a deep breath looking off into the distance. I always remember that as magical as their world is, it’s also very dangerous. I shouldn’t have to worry about them when they’re just at school, but I am, and with the things they’re telling me, with what’s coming. I haven’t been this worried since they were attacked at the big Quidditch game last year. George doesn’t answer and that’s all the confirmation I need. 

“I don’t want you to worry.” he says, and I look at him incredulously. Tears appear in my eyes, I wish I’d been there when this all happened, so I could’ve helped, but what help can I be with magical problems when I’m not magical? He pulled me into his chest, and I said, “How can I not?” 

“At least I’ll get to see you all the time now.” George says with a coy grin on his face. Yes! No more of them leaving for ten out of twelve months a year. No more weird letters appearing out of nowhere that catch my parent’s attention. I could even see them everyday. I laugh, “That is a good consolation prize.” 

I snuggle deeper into his chest, ignoring the way he tenses up first before wrapping his arms around my stomach. The blades of grass and the flowers all bend to the side as the gusts of wind wooshes through. I sigh, “I’m really happy you’re here, George.” 

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, and I nod my head, of course, he can ask me anything. He scratches the back of his neck, anxious, and he stutters a bit before tilting his head towards the burrow, he says, “When I was inside…Bill told me something.” 

Oohh no, what did Bill say now? All the Weasleys are such nosey people, I hope he didn’t tell George about how I’m madly in love with him. This could ruin everything. I say nothing, and it urges him to continue, “he said that you were dating someone, some guy named Rick or something.”

Ah yes, Rick, the guy from my A-level English class. He was almost nothing, I only told Bill because Rick once sent me a message when I was at the Burrow, and as previously mentioned, the Weasleys are nosey. I explain, “It wasn’t anything too important, it was a two week thing, at most.” 

George just hums, his chest hitches from behind me. He asks, “Do you…like him?” 

No, oh god, no I do not. I have not liked anyone other than George, but how can I say that, how can I say that to him without ruining everything. We’ve been friends for over a decade, just because I feel like I might die whenever he mentioned that he went to the Yule Ball with Spinnit or that I get so happy whenever he’s around and because I want to kiss him, always. That’s not a good enough reason to say anything that might ruin this, unless he gives me a sign-

“I really hope you don’t.” 

My head snaps to his face, my heart in my chest. He couldn’t mean… could he? I know George better than I know anyone else, and I don’t understand a single thing that’s happening. Why is he looking at me like that? My stomach tumbles like I’m riding a rollercoaster, oh, George would love going on a rollercoaster. I stutter, “No, I-I don’t like him.” 

“Oh?” he hums, and he’s not looking at my eyes anymore, he’s looking at my lips. I feel like I might throw up, my heart is beating so fast. He licks his lips, and I add, with very little courage in me but with a lot of hope, “I like someone else.” 

“Anyone I know?” George muses, and he tugs me closer to him by my waist. Our legs tangled up like some unorganised wires together. I place my shaking hands on his chest, and he looks back at me, waiting. I know exactly what that look is now. Before I hesitate, and while my heart beat is right in my ears, I say, “Just kiss me already, George.” 

And he does. 

***

It’s been two hours while I wait at the Burrow. The lights closed and the only thing shining was the moonlight. I’d open the lights but I can’t get myself to move from my spot on the sofa. The spot where I was when George explained to me that the entire Weasley family were going to go fight an evil wizard, never mind that the last time they ‘faced’ them, the Burrow was burned down. 

Nothing could make him stay, not begging and not tears. The dark and grim atmosphere is a sharp contrast to the usual happy mood of the burrow. I sat there for hours with one eye on the clock and the other eye on the Weasley family clock, each hand on the clock representing a member of the Weasley family. All the clocks pointing at Hogwarts and all of them still hanging on. 

Another hour passes, and I start pacing, maybe I should clean up a bit? The brooms and the dishes usually do their work with magic, but I’m sure I can still use them. I pick up the broom and start out with George and I’s room, where we’re staying when we’re at the Burrow. As soon as I walk in, I’m hit with a wave of nausea, looking at all the picture frames and the messed up bed that we were too lazy to make in the morning, staying in bed for just a little bit longer. 

The pictures of George at Hogwarts with the Quidditch team, pictures of our first date, and second and our apartment together with Fred above the shop, where I’m legally allowed to be, but that never stopped us. A helpless sob escapes from my mouth, what if something happens to him? He already lost an ear a few months ago, what if he dies? What if any of them die? 

This is a horrible idea, I close the door to the room and go back downstairs, I’ll clean up here instead. I clean like I’ve never cleaned before. Vacuuming, cleaning all the stairs, washing the walls, and dusting and anything I can possibly think of. I do the dishes and I look back at the clock. It's been three hours already, and nothing. They will be hungry when they all come back, I should make them something to eat. 

I should make something sweet and salty. I’ll make muffins and I should probably also make a casserole, or maybe they’d want something lighter to eat. Should I make eggs? But eggs don’t taste well after they sit for a long time, but why would they sit for a long time? They should all be back any minute now. 

Another hour passes. 

This one I spent crying, everyone in this family was a major part of my life. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley who have been my second parents ever since I was eight. Ginny who is the little sister I never had. Will I ever get to see Ron and Hermione admit their feelings for each other? Bill who finally moved back home after years and Fleur who I only started to get to know better. Charlie who actually tried to give me a dragon egg when I was ten because I wanted one so bad before Percy took it away because how reckless is it to give a ten year old a dragon egg. Fred who has been my best friend for years and only finally started to live his dreams. And George- 

I keep crying until another hour passes. I hear a stumble outside the door of the burrow, and at lightning speed, I rush to see who it is. I swing the door open and outside it is Fred with bruised skin and blood splattered over his clothes and body. I sob and rush over to hug him. He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay. 

“Come on, I have to get you somewhere?” Fred announces, and he takes his wand out of his jeans and takes my hand. I look between his face and the wand that’s in his grip and the horror goes through me. Where’s George? I’m just about to say it when Fred says, “This is going to feel weird.” 

And it did feel weird. My body contorts and swirls and flips through space, and in a flash I’m in a new place, I almost throw up, the bile rising up to my mouth and I have to force it back down while clutching my stomach. How did they apparate as often as this did? This is awful. I regain my composure and I feel the gust of wind, and I notice that I’m standing in front of a castle that’s covered in ruins, I almost throw up again when I notice all the blood and a few bodies just a few metres away. 

Fred is smiling, that means that nothing bad could’ve happened, right? He motions for me with his finger to turn around, and I furrow my eyebrows before spinning to look behind me. It’s George. With all his limbs and only a broken lip, and some bruises up his arms, and his clothes covered in dirt and dust. I close the gap between us and hug him. I start crying again, and he tightens his grip around me, squeezing me tight. I sob, “you’re okay, you’re okay.” 

“I know this isn’t the best of circumstances but I wanted you to see it.” George says, and he nods his head towards the castle. I turn to look at it, the words clicking, this must be Hogwarts. It’s so much more grand than the photos. I imagine it must’ve looked better even before all this. He says, “I always wanted you to see it before…” 

He trails off, and I pull myself back closer to him, the distance unbearable now. I urged him on, “Before?” 

He clears his throat, and he starts another sentence, “I was going to wait, do it at a better time, but I- this day was not good-” he chuckles, he always finds joy even in the worst moments, but why was he talking like this? Is everything okay? Is he going to die? He continues before I break down again, “The entire time we were fighting I just kept thinking, Merlin, I’d be an idiot if I died without marrying you.” 

It stops me in my tracks, my mouth parts open. No way, right? No way. He takes a step from me, and I keep my arms linked to his before he releases it. He starts to lean down, my heart is lurching in my throat, no way. He sinks down on one knee with his back straighted, plucking a small velvet box out of his pocket. I hear a cheer and I turn around to fit every Weasley family member watching behind us; including Harry and Hermione. 

I chuckle and tears start to fall from my eyes. I wipe them quickly and a smile graces my face. They’re all okay. George clears his throat, and grins, he starts, “Will you-” 

“Yes.” 

“Let me finish.” George chuckles and a few echo from behind us the same laughter. I bite down on my bottom lip and George shakes his head fondly, he repeats, “Will you marry-” 

“Yes!” I interrupt again and lurch forward into his arms. The box almost falls from his hands as he catches me on the ground. He laughs and shrugs his shoulders towards his family, he whispers, “Close enough-” 

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