Disgrace - George Weasley

Chapter 6

"Dot? You okay?"

It's been a few months since the wedding, Ron, Harry and Hermione are still out somewhere, it's almost Christmas now and she's been staying with the twins for a while.

Her auror training has stopped due to the Ministry being taken over along with Quidditch as nowhere is safe for anyone.

She turns to see George standing in the doorway, and nods as she turns away from the window, "I feel like something's wrong." She says.

"What?"

She shakes her head with a sigh, "I feel like someone's watching me."

George sits her on the sofa besides her and sighs, "You're just paranoid."

"I'm not," She snaps, instantly regretting it when she sees the look of hurt on his face, "Somethings wrong, somewhere, I-I can feel it. Draco, he's... I don't know."

George sighs and wraps an arm around her, "I'm sure hers fine."

"He's a Death Eater, George. I let that happen and now he's out there somewhere in trouble, God only knows where. And he's probably all alone, I-"

"Dot," He interrupts placing his hand on her cheek to get her to look at him, "It's not your fault."

"Everything's my fault." She whispers.

He shakes his head, "Nothing's your fault."

She nods, "It is, if I had been in Slytherin, my father wouldn't hate me, if I hadn't of left Draco he'd be safe, if I hadn't owled the Order, Sirius would still be here. If I hadn't-"

"Stop." George says sternly cupping her jaw to look back at him again.

He takes in her teary gaze and sighs, "Dot, they weren't your fault."

She scoffs, "They weren't," He defends, "If you hadn't been put in Gryffindor, I'd have probably have never became best friends with you. If you hadn't left, you'd probably be dead. If you hadn't owled the Order, they you and the entire DA would've been dead."

"It wasn't your fault."

She sighs and gets to her feet, "Where are you going?"

"I just..." She glances around the room as she pulls on her coat, "I just need a few minutes. I'm going for a walk."

George stands and grabs his own coat, "You're not going alone," She opens her mouth to protest but he shakes his head and loops his arm through hers, "You're not going alone." He repeats.

She sighs and allows him to lead her through the street, looking around them at the softly falling snow he apparates them away from Diagon Alley.

They appear outside a café, one they spent many nights at when they lived with the Order at Grimmauld Place. Smiling softly to herself she leads the way into the café grinning at the old greying woman behind the counter.

"Oh, Dottie, sweetheart, we haven't seen you in years."

Marge, the owner, is also a witch, an old pure-blooded Slytherin who should've been a Hufflepuff. She's one of the kindest people Dorothy has ever met, "Quidditch took me far away, Marge."

The old witch grins as she glances around her, almost, empty café, with a flick of her old wand two cups appear in front of the young wizards and they smile gratefully.

Kicking the snow from their shoes they hang their coats up on the pegs and take a seat.

They talk for a while, about anything and everything, keeping the conversation away from Draco and the Death Eaters and the war they know that is just ahead, because they need time, they deserve it, one night of quiet.

One night of quiet before the chaos breaks loose.