Still ; George Weasley

Fifty-six

You know that dream I talked about?

Well, today I've seen a lot of manifestation tiktoks, describing my soulmate and it's describing the guy from my dream so I'm a little bit freaked out.

-

George was asleep.

I was not.

I was wearing a pair of his sweatpants and one of his hoodies. The smell and the size made it comfortable for me.

Though I couldn't sleep.

My knees were pulled up to my chest and my arms were wrapped around them. One of my sleeves were rolled up as I had been staring at the burned initials on my arm.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Everything was great and now I'm living here, knowing what happened but not being able to remember it.

I want to remember it, but at the same time, I don't.

I reached over to where George laid on his stomach, running my fingers through his ginger hair.

"I love you." I whispered, leaning down to kiss his cheek before I got off the bed.

I put on some socks before I left the bedroom, though I paused as I saw Fred in the kitchen. He himself was paused, about to take a sip of some tea while looking at me.

"Allie—" he put down the cup and quickly closed the newspaper on the table in front of him. "...what are you doing up?"

I closed the door behind me, quickly pulling down my sleeve before approaching him in the kitchen while I wrapped my arms around myself.

"Couldn't sleep." I pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. "What're you reading?"

"Oh it's— nothing." He breathed, folding it once more before folding his arms on top of it. "Just an old version of the Daily Prophet."

I cocked an eyebrow at him as I leaned back in my chair.

"I'm mentioned, am I not?"

"I mean... it really depends how you look at it." He said. "A lot of people get mentioned and you're a Silverberry. Your family is in here at least once a month."

I frowned out of frustration, staring at the newspaper underneath his arms on the table.

"I want to read it." I said and held out a hand before looking at Fred again.

He bit his lip for a moment, then shook his head.

"You don't. I can promise you, Allie... you don't want to read it."

"Just let me read it." I sighed. "Please."

He hesitated, giving me a careful look before nodding slowly, pushing the newspaper over to me.

"I still think you shouldn't."

I ignored him and opened the newspaper, looking for the page and when I found it, I read it. Not once, not twice... but five times before I folded it again and put it on the table.

I gulped, trying to fight the tears. That hurt to read.

"Hey—" Fred reached over to grab my hand. "...don't let Skeeter get to you. Who cares if she or anyone else thinks you were raped? You know that didn't happen so why care?"

"Yeah." I breathed, rubbing my eyes. "I wasn't raped..."

I stared at the table for another second before I stood up and pushed the chair back in its original position.