R

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And I just can't reach out to tell you that I always wonder what you're up to . . .

You sat, curled up on your bed.  So many reoccurring thoughts swam through it.  You were so upset and you just couldn't stop your emotions from unveiling.  You laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling.  You missed George.  You missed Fred.  You missed how Hogwarts used to be, with Dumbledore, Lupin, Tonks, Lavender . . . You could name more, but what was the point?  Other than George, they were all gone.  And George didn't even want you there (or so you thought). 

You slowly forced yourself out of bed, walking over to your bedroom mirror.  You looked at yourself, up and down, before you grabbed your wand.  You would leave; you would get a taste of what life was really like, without George.  But, you simply couldn't bring yourself to do it.  In a matter of time, you had curled up in the corner, trembling as tears rolled down your cheeks.  There was nothing you could do to stop them; they just kept coming. 

George had gotten dressed that very next day, as well.  He would go outside, for the first time in months.   He took a deep breath and looked at himself in his mirror, making sure he looked decent before he walked downstairs.  He kissed his mother on the cheek. 

"Where are you going, dear?" Molly asked him.

"I'm going to check on Y/n," he turned to face her.  "I am . . . worried about her."  He pulled out his wand from his pocket before he apparated to your doorstep.  Immediately, he found himself knocking at your door. 

You jolted from your new spot on the couch.  Roughly wiping your tear-streaked face, you slowly made your way to your door.  You didn't bother to ask who it was as you unlocked it; whoever was behind the door just opened it right up.

Without hesitation, strong, but weak arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to the man's chest.  Your eyes widened, not even objecting.  You remember that smell.  It was a cologne you bought him and Fred, respectively.  He only used it on special occasions.  Slowly, you looked up to see the man you loved dearly. 

"George . . ."

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