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It was the middle of the night when I was startled out of sleep. Ginny was muttering incessantly in her sleep and with Hermione I wasn't sure if she was even breathing.

I hadn't had nightmares in a long time. But I probably shouldn't be surprised that they were back. Quietly, I shuffled my feet over the side of the bed and listened to see if any of the other girls would wake up as well, but when everything stayed quiet, I slipped out into the hallway and into the bathroom. It was only here that I realized HOW fucking impractical it was to have the main hand unusable. Not even going to the bathroom was easy. I was washing my hand when the door opened.

Astonished, George looked at me. "Evening," he grumbled, looking from the door handle to me and back again. "Was that on purpose?"

I pulled the hem of the T-shirt I was sleeping in a little longer. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get it back open. Kind of limited there."

"Maybe in the future you should put a sock on the doorknob or something," he suggested, but faltered as he looked down my bare legs. "Or wear socks at all," he cleared his throat.

The silence between us was as thick as honey. I still hadn't thanked him. "George, I -"

"Are you done? Because I need to go to the bathroom. I mean, if you want to stay, to each his own preferences."

Embarrassed, I plodded past him.

"Should I leave the door open as an invitation?"

"Good night," I whispered sternly and pulled the door out of his hand.

I was halfway down the hall when I changed my mind after all. It was rude enough that I had delayed the matter so long. George opened the door just as I reached the top step. He raised an eyebrow.

"Did you want to come in now? I mean, I'm done, but -"

"Do you have a minute?", I interrupted his shameless speech.

"Sure, what's so urgent at this hour?"

"Was that irony?", I asked uncertainly. It really was the middle of the night. After everything that had happened, he had to be as wiped out as I was.

George pulled up one corner of his mouth. "It's okay. Shall we sit down? You're still swaying pretty good."

Gratefully, I nodded. "Hermione is worse than Madame Pomfrey. If I refused to take the medicine, I'm sure she'd make me." I tried a grumpy laugh.

"Guess the blood loss isn't helping either."

I wanted to direct George to the kitchen table, but he had other plans and steered me purposefully to the large sofa where I had woken up.

"What's the point of being so formal. Do you want to cancel a contract with me? We're friends," he explained his decision as he steered me with one hand on my back. Involuntarily, I straightened my back as the spot he touched immediately began to tingle again. Friends. After everything that had happened, yes. Maybe it would be okay to be friends.

The sofa was softer than I remembered and I immediately sank into the cushions. With a blanket in hand, George immediately joined me and put it around my shoulders. "So, what's there to tell me at three in the morning?" He casually dropped down on the sofa next to me, his back against the armrest.

I gathered the blanket between my fingers.

"I haven't had a chance to thank you," I whisper. Suddenly I was startlingly aware of the silence in the house. Ron could probably hear what we were talking about in his attic room if he wanted to.

"Oh, come on," George immediately waved it off. He had one foot up on the sofa, and was leaning his elbow on his knee so he could turn to face me.

"No, please," I interrupted his backtalk. "You saved my life. I don't know how to thank you at all. I can never repay you."

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