Innova {George Weasley}

Prologue: Perierat

Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream. 

                       —Euripides

After Fred's death, George had spent a long time drowning his sorrows in alcohol and the drug the muggles called weed. He'd spent weeks holed up in a room he'd once shared with his other half that now smelled like sweat and tears, desolation, and the sickly sweet scent of drugs. The only consolation was the the room no longer smelled like Fred, though George in his half drunken, half drugged state could no longer really decide if this was a good thing. He'd stopped hearing his mother scream at him to -come out, that they'd all lost someone close to them- weeks ago. 

They didn't understand. They had lost a piece of their hearts, but he had lost a piece of his soul. And that was much harder to come back from. He didn't know if he ever could. A part of him was Underground or high up in the sky, and he just hoped the alcohol would draw him closer to the cavern underneath, while the drugs made him fly high enough to reach Heaven. It was a ridiculous pursuit, but the only thing George could think of in his hollow mind. 

A sharp rapping startled George out of his drunken slumber. His body twitched as he looked around to determine the source of the noise. It was not his mother knocking on the door, or the sound of one of his and Fred's experiments, it was an owl. An unfamiliar one at that, but once he stumbled drunkenly to the window, spent five minutes trying to open it, gave up and smashed it with a rock scaring the poor owl, and recovered the parchment in its claws he found it to be covered with a very familiar handwriting.

George,

Your mother tells me you're too busy moping to pay me a visit. I forgive you, in case you were worried. I lost my parents, and later Remus and Sirius, to the War. I may not understand the sheer depth of your grief, but I know how it feels to experience loss. 

I am so sorry about Fred, I wish I could have done something to prevent his death. Maybe if I had been man enough to face Voldemort sooner, or somehow managed to destroy the Horcruxes sooner, maybe then I could have done something. Maybe if Voldemort had died the first time...

But there's no point dwelling on the past.

Do you remember the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, Grimmauld Place? Well Sirius left it to me in his will, and I have plenty of rooms open. It's a bit drab and slightly gloomy still, but I figure you need some distance from the Burrow and from Molly. She can be a little suffocating although she always has the best intentions at heart. Never forget that. I know your family loved Fred, and I know he was your twin and that you're grief is deeper than theirs ever will be, but Molly has lost a son. One she kept in her womb for nine months. There is nothing on this Earth that can compare to the bond twins have with each other, but the bond a mother has with her children comes pretty damn close. 

I can have your room ready in two days should you decide to come. Until then, my homework for you as a therapist and mind-healer in training, is to talk to your family about Fred. Remember all the good times, all the pranks you ever pulled. I can't force you into anything, but I really do think you should try it. It will help, though it may not seem like it at first.

By the way, you don't mind sharing Grimmauld with a couple other survivors of the War? It's not exactly ideal for recovery, I know, but they had nowhere to go and Grimmauld is too big for a lonely Healer. And they really do brighten up the place. 

Some of them are finally smiling. 

Anyways, I have to leave for a shift at Mungo's. Let me know what you think?

Always, 

Harry

P.S. Malfoy's staying at Grimmauld too. Turns out he's completely bent and his parents kicked him out for it. Given my feelings about the git, you can surely understand that I have taken him in. He's much nicer now too. I suppose the War helped him in that way. Merlin knows it destroyed so many people, it's kind of nice to see that it helped.