the gentle moon / george weasley

i must not protect curses

"What happened to your hand?"

"I cut it."

"Oh, thanks. For a minute there, I didn't know what happened." August rolled her eyes, "Let me see your hand, George."

"It's just a cut — it's nothing — it's —"

But August had grabbed George's forearm and pulled the back of George's hand to level with her eyes. There was a pause, during which she stared at the words carved into the skin, she thought her eyes were deceiving her. And when it began to appear blurry she thought maybe it was her eyes playing tricks on her but in reality, it was just her tears pooling.

"I thought you said she was giving you lines?"

George hesitated, but after all, it was August and he couldn't lie to her, so he told August the truth about the hours he had been spending in Umbridge's office.

"That fucking bitch!" August said in a revolted whisper as they came to a halt in front of the Fat Lady, who was dozing peacefully with her head against her frame. "She's sick! We have to go to McGonagall, say something!"

"No," said George at once. "I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's got to me."

"George look at your hand! It looks mangled after one detention with her!"

George couldn't look her in the eyes after that.

"George?" August put herself in front of him before he could walk through the portrait hole, "It's only been one detention right?"

"Not exactly." George sighed, pushing them both into the common room, "I've had one every night this week with Harry."

"Harry..." August held back a sob, "Does his- does his hand look like that too?"

It was heartbreaking to see her like this. He hated when she cried.

"August, you must know, I would do anything for you. So would Harry." He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into one of the secluded corners of the common room.

"No, not this..." August gently grabbed his hand in hers, her thumb carefully brushing over the scar. "You shouldn't have had this happen to you."

With his free hand, he caressed her face, palming it on her damp cheek. "She said awful things about werewolves."

"So does everyone else..." August cried, "But I don't care. I never did."

"You do." George said, "I know you do. I know you August... You barely come back to the Gryffindor Tower since you moved dorms... It's because you're scared to run into her in the hall. I know you."

August looked up at him with tears streaming down her cheeks. With his hand still on her cheek, he gently wiped a tear away with his thumb.

"August, these scars don't bother me." He weakly smiled, "I would do anything for you."

August's lip twitched.

"You're my girl." His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck and pulled her into him. "I hate that bitch, and I'll keep putting Bulbadox Powder on her chair if she keeps yapping that trap of hers."

George felt relieved when he heard a muffled giggle come from her, hugging her tighter he kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, August." He tells her, "I will always stick up for you."

"Can I at least take care of this?" She pushed herself away from him, still holding the scarred hand.

"Will it make you feel better?"