Still ; George Weasley

Fifty-four

Mention of sexual assault

"What do you mean by that?"

I shrugged.

"That he didn't rape me."

George watched me as I went back to bed, covering myself up with the duvet.

I was tired and my head was hurting.

"Alright... you said he didn't rape you." He said, watching me carefully. "But he did do something, didn't he?"

I looked down at my hands, resting on top of the duvet.

My silence gave it away.

I heard George inhale sharply.

"H-He didn't... rape me." I said without taking my eyes off my hands. "I wasn't raped..."

I looked up at the sound of his footsteps. He sat on the bed, folding his legs to sit right in front of me.

"Can I hold your hands?"

I looked back down at my hands as I moved them over to his. He grabbed them, holding them gently as he stroke them with his thumbs.

"Did he touch you?"

"He didn't not touch me." I laughed and looked at his face, immediately stopping when I realised I shouldn't be joking about it. "He didn't rape me."

"You keep saying that."

"Because he didn't!" I raised my voice out of frustration. "I don't even remember most of what happened after he pulled off my pants."

"What do you mean?" He asked, bringing my hands up to kiss them. "You can tell me..."

I sighed.

"When he—" I pulled my hands from his and wrapped my arms around myself as the memory came back. "...after he put touched me over my underwear and he then pushed his hand... when he—"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut as my breathing changed.

"...when he slid his hand into my underwear, I— I pushed the reality away." I tried to explain. "I tried focusing on all the happy memories I have. I tried to trick my brain into thinking I was safe with you and not in the basement... so I don't know what happened after he touched me directly..."

I shook my head, feeling my body shake a little.

"I don't— I can't talk about it. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay." George nodded, seeing how upset it made me. "You don't have to."

I breathed heavily before chuckling.

"I need a therapist." I chuckled, shaking my head while George kept looking at me in a certain way. "I mean... yep, I definitely need a therapist."

I got off the bed and George reached for my hand, accidentally being too fast in his actions which made me flinch.

We looked at each other, me breathing heavily while realisation hit him. His eyes widened a bit and he slowly got off the bed.

"Can I hug you?" He asked and as I nodded, he made sure to make calm movements while wrapping his arms around me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"You don't scare me." I whispered. "You didn't scare me. I'm just—"

"You don't have to hide the fact that you got scared." He told me. "I was being too rough with my movements. I'm sorry, darling."