Forget Me Not || George Weasley

Chapter 42

B.F.D, George thought that his life was destined for happiness.

He and his brother had it planned out down to the date after they'd left Hogwarts. When they would have the grand opening of their shop, when they would expand and buy another one to fill to the brim with manufactured joy. He was convinced that happiness was his, he was entitled to just reach out and take it. And then happiness withered and turned to dust, crushed under the debris of Hogwarts. A.F.D, George thought that happiness was the cruelest joke of all.

Then he met Olive.

Conor O'Connor had grinned with genuine happiness when George told him that he and the ice cream witch were...well he couldn't say what they were. Only that they were moving slowly, carefully. The healer had been glad to hear that as well, that George hadn't discovered a new vice to dull the pain by indulging over and over until his tolerance demanded more. Ollie was something different. Something he wanted to last as long as it could before he inevitably fucked it up. He hadn't told O'Connor that. It felt too intimate, too revealing.

George feels his lips spread into a slow smile when the bell above the door rings. Lee let's out a cheer that tells George exactly who it is. He doesn't look up from the bills he's been staring at while daydreaming over his last date with Olive. One where he'd gotten to taste a new, secret flavor of ice cream from her warm lips. Slow. It was getting harder to remember why they were going slow.

He bites down hard on his tongue when he hears a timid knock at the door, nonchalantly scrawling on his parchment and making a note of a payment while saying, "Hi, Ollie."

"Hi, George."

Her voice sounds warm, happy. Merlin, he'd forgotten that happy was a real emotion. He finally looks up and sees her leaning into the doorway of his office, twisting back and forth on the toes of her trainers. George glances down at the seemingly new, yellow shoes before eyeing the fuzzy pink sweater she's wearing. Her nose matches the fabric, pink from the chilly air. His lips fight to smile.

"I like your shoes."

She grins, green eyes shining. She lifts up one leg to twist her foot around, showing off her new trainers while saying, "Thank you. Hermione got them for me."

Something warm settles in his chest, causing him to lean over the desk and playfully grab her ankle. Olive laughs when he pulls gently, making her wobble on her one leg. He lets go only to crook a finger at her. He can tell she's thinking about being stubborn, but his eyes flicker down to watch her shoes when she finally decides to come around the desk and stand next to him.

George swivels in his chair, finally caving to his urge to smile. He couldn't help it, the same way he couldn't help reaching out and wrapping one of her curls around his finger. Olive leans down, setting her hands on the arms of his chair and softly kissing his cheek. George smirks slightly, turning his head and catching her lips with his own. He holds in a sigh, tugging on her lower lip gently with his teeth before grazing her top one with his tongue.

Olive hums appreciatively, the sound filling up his chest and making him dizzy. He leans back enough to see her eyes slowly open, his voice rasping, "Hi." Olive smiles, whispering, "Hi. Ready to go?"

George feels the warm, the good. He feels it when it begins to fade. He grunts, glancing down at the date scrawled across the papers he'd just been looking at. October 30th. His mother's birthday.

And the day before Halloween.

Something sour eats away at his throat and his words. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to see his family today. Because there would be inevitable talk of tomorrow. He hadn't told Ollie what he thought of Halloween now. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to put it into words. He loved Halloween B.F.D.