Forget Me Not || George Weasley

Chapter 33

George stares down at the bills and order forms, but he can't quite seem to focus.

His appointment with Conor O'Connor had been good, productive. He'd been honest about Angelina, how he was going to move past that and let go. But when the healer asked about Olive, George had clammed up. He wanted to tell the healer things that he couldn't even reckon with himself. Instead, he'd changed the subject. They talked about Ginny's impending marriage, how George was still uncomfortable and nervous over the whole ordeal. How he was glad they hadn't set a date. But then his owl like mind healer had challenged him. Challenged him to ask Ginny about her wedding.

George didn't have the heart to tell the healer that he was growing weary of reconciling with change, so he agreed.

But when he went by to ask Olive if she would want to join him and Ginny and Harry and the whole lot of them for dinner, tempted to cheat and ask her to ask Ginny questions about the wedding, Florean's was closed.

That had been two days ago.

And Florean's was still closed.

"George? Did you send an owl for more Peruvian instant darkness powder?"

He glances up just as Lee pops his head in the door, a curious expression on his face. George nods, replying plainly, "Yes."

Lee crinkles his nose, sticking his tongue out before mumbling something along the lines of "fucking grumpy."

George was, he'd admit it. Because he had a craving for ice cream and an undeniable urge to see the only shade of green that didn't make his ears hurt. George hesitates for a moment before calling out to his friend that had disappeared into the depths of the shop, "Have you heard from Ollie?"

"Me?"

George's lips twitch when Lee appears again, like a gnome erupting out of the middle of the earth and appearing as if magically summoned, "No, mate. Haven't seen her since the Leaky Cauldron. I've been...busy."

"Busy," George scoffs, rolling his eyes. Lee offers up nothing but a sheepish smile, but a George recognized the earring that adorned his best mate's face now. Yep. Busy.

He feels a slight prickle of irritation, put off by the change in routine, "Florean's is always open during the week. Always."

Lee's face twists into one of concern and George feels unnerved at the shared feeling. Odd. It was odd to have not see Olive Murphy for three days, even if just in passing in the streets of Diagon Alley. It was even more odd that the shop was closed.

He shifts back awkwardly in his chair, running his hands through his hair and exhaling slowly. Change. He fucking hated when things got screwed up. They'd fallen into a routine now, one that George liked quite a bit. But that routine revolves around their respective shops, and Olive's was always open. Always. But when he'd stopped by last, the windows had been dark, the closed sign crooked. He'd even tried the door, testing to make sure that she hadn't forgotten to lock it. She hadn't. The shop was shut down, empty.

He rises from his chair, glancing forlornly at the bills he hadn't finished paying.

"I've got it, mate," George glances up at Lee, eyes narrowing at the knowing smile on his friends face. But the worry is still there. And it makes George nervous. Very nervous. "Go check and see if she's in."

He walks to Florean's in a trance, mind occupied with thoughts that threatened him in a way they hadn't for a while. Something.

Something is bothering him.

Something he hadn't felt in sometime simmers uncomfortably in his chest when he bangs three times of the pink door that he'd kept passing in the hopes would be open. Something he hadn't felt since he wiped dust from his eyes, blinked up at the night sky, and realized he could no longer hear Fred fighting beside him.