DRARRY - Wonderful Wheezes

Epilogue

A few weeks later, Harry closed up Wheezes around 8 pm, shooing the last customers out. It had been a bright, exciting day, but there was something he needed to do which wasn't bright or exciting at all.

Harry disapparated from the street, appearing a moment later in front of the Burrow. Mrs Weasley let him in, and he walked carefully up the steps toward George's room.

He knocked, but there was no answer. He went in anyway.

Harry sat in the chair beside George's bed. George didn't move, didn't look at him, but he was clearly awake.

"We missed you."

Nothing. Not a bit of reaction.

"It was beautiful, it... we missed you."

Harry remembered what it was like to watch the Weasleys drag George to Fred's funeral, watch them support his body like it would collapse if any of them let go. He hadn't felt comfortable sharing in their pain, then. As if it would be an imposition to stand beside the rest of them like he'd known Fred just as well.

Mr Weasley had taken him aside after, once everyone else was back at home, and he'd told Harry that it didn't matter how long he'd known them, he was family just the same.

"Ron didn't want to go, either. He knew it'd be a huge crowd, and the Prophet would be watching him like a hawk, and that Hermione would be there, but he stayed through all of it. And I thought he was just worried he'd regret not going, but..."

Harry stood, and he placed a vial on George's bedside table.

"That's the memory there, if you ever... I've got a Pensieve you can borrow, just say the word. Any time. He tried to get all the best parts."

George still did not move.

"All right, well. I'll see you," he said. "Come by any time, really. The shop or Grimmauld. Even to just, er... get away for a moment. Bye, George."

He was at the door when George spoke.

"Tell him thanks, for me."

Harry caught his breath. "I will."