Friends Forever? GeorgeWeasleyXReader

Chapter 78

*Christmas 2005

   I should be happy, sitting on the floor of the Burrow with Freddie in between my legs on Christmas Day, but instead my head is filled with guilt from the night before and this morning's conversation. 

   I woke up to find George asleep on the couch. Miss Molly gave me a small smile as I walk into the kitchen. I sigh, placing Freddie in the highchair, "Accio toast."
   The toast flew to my hand, and I started shredding it apart, handing it to Freddie. Miss Molly sets a bottle near him, which he grabs up quickly. 
   I smile as Miss Molly swishes her wand around to make the Burrow start to come to life. She doesn't ask about anything. I think she's always wanted my to be open with her, without the budging. 
   I chuckle, "Mum, are you going to ask why your son was out on the couch instead of his room this morning?"
   Her red curls whip around, "I didn't even notice."
   I roll my eyes, "He found out what we talked about and got upset."
   "Hmm. You know better than most that he hasn't grieved enough over Fred," she pinches the brim of her nose the way she always does when we talk about Fred. "You just need to give him time. Remember how much time he gave you once upon a time?"
   My fingers twist into the hole in my shirt, "I know."
  The stirring in the living room causes me to jump up, right as George walks in. His hair is a mess, sticking up in all directions, his arms lift up, leaving a sliver of his stomach exposed. I shiver as he sits in the chair farthest from me.
   "Mum, when is everyone else coming tonight? I have to go somewhere," George's voice is scratchy, and his eyes won't meet mine.
   "I believe around six. What in the world do you have to do that is more important than spending your son's first Christmas with him?" Her voice is stern.
   His eyes widen, he stutters, "Well, nothing. I just- need to do something."
   She points her wand in his face, "George Fabian, if you are not back in two hours I will personally come and find you and murder you."
   He nods his head, going up to get dressed.
   A few minutes late he comes back down, kissing Freddie on the head, and he walks out the door.

   It's been four hours and George is still not back. I lean back, feeling Freddie crawl over my legs. My eyes burn from holding back tears.

   "Um, Y/n," the familiar, gruff voice of Mr. Arthur echoes behind me. "Will you come outside with me? Molly will take care of Freddie."

   I rub my hands over my eyes, getting up. A small cry escapes from Freddie's mouth as he reaches for me. I smile, bending over to kiss his red head, "Mummy will be back."

    The piercing wind whips at my face as I wrap my sweater around me closely. I finally look up at Mr. Arthur, his eyes drawn down, the worry lines that have grown over the years are deeper now. His hand reaches out for mine, "Sweetie, I have some news." I grip his hand thinking the worse, before he continues, "George has sent an owl and said he won't be coming to Christmas."

   I slink down into the chair, letting his hand slip from mine and feel his arm go around my shoulders. The tears I had been holding back all morning are released with a sob, "Wh-did he say where he was going?"

   Mr. Arthur looks down, shaking his head, "Just that he couldn't handle being with family right now."

   My hands shield my face as the tears continue to fall, sobs reverberate under the porch. My heart feels like it is collapsing inside of me. Mr. Arthur's strong hand rubs my shoulder.

   "Y/n, sweetie. I need you to breathe," he crouches in front of me, removing my hands from my face so I am staring into his kind, older eyes. "Breathe, in and out." 

    I follow his guide, being transported back to when I did this same breathing exercise with Fred, in a time far away. The familiar scene leads me to crack a small smile.