Blue moon ; George Weasley

Thirty-three

The first night back at school, Esme had a nightmare.

A nightmare in which her father got a new girlfriend that made everyone forget that Esme's mother even existed.

Esme sat up in her bed, shaking, her eyes full of tears. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of the jumper she wore to bed, and then looked around her dorm.

The other girls were sleeping and Esme was happy that she hadn't woken them up.

She crawled out of bed, finding a pair of shorts before leaving the dormitory. She needed to take a breath and have a moment before going back to bed.

She walked down the hallway and out into the common room. She made her way down the stairs, wiping her eyes again.

Then she noticed the person in the common room.

George was laying on the sofa, a blanket covering him. A blanket she recognised to be Fred's.

Esme wrapped her arms around herself as she made her way closer to the sitting area.

She barely even reached the sofa before George woke up, groaning as he ran one hand over his face.

Then his eyes landed on Esme, and he paused.

"Es?" He asked, quickly sitting up. "What's wrong?"

Esme shook her head and shut her eyes for a moment. That question, coming from him, made the tears come falling again.

"I had a nightmare." She spoke. "I know I'm such a baby for crying over it, but I'm so scared. He's gonna— what if he— mum's dead and nothing I'll do will bring her back."

As George realised what this was about, he stood up, took the blanket and wrapped it around Esme before guiding her back to the sofa.

"You dreamt about your mother?"

She shook her head but then nodded.

"Dad was going out with someone knew and she made sure everyone forgot about mum... she made me forget about mum." Esme cried, her hands placed in her lap while George sat next to her, his hands folded.

"You know that won't happen, right?"

"But he is seeing someone. Ethan told me and dad confirmed it. I know it's been two years but he can't just— what about mum?"

Esme looked at George, her eyes red and puffy, her cheeks red and wet.

"And I miss you." She continued. "I miss you so much."

"I'm here..." he said softly and reached for her hands, but she shook her head and moved away.

"You're not, though. You hurt me, George. I set my boundaries by cancelling that date and when you dropped me as your friend, it felt like you were punishing me for not wanting that date to happen."

"Es—"

"I was so scared that if we got into a relationship together, we'd end up breaking up because you can't control your anger, or I'm too stubborn. I was so scared that it was going to ruin our friendship, so I set the boundary and it still ruined it."

George moved closer to her, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against him.

He rubbed her upper arm with his hand, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. He didn't say anything else, because he knew he couldn't come up with an explanation that would make her forgive him.

All he could do was apologise and hope that she knew how much he meant it.