ex-witch ✔️ | g.w. post war

34

28/04/2001
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Diagon Alley, London
¬

[ o k a y ]

"YOU'RE RIGHT."

A million of emotions ran through his veins as he saw her curled up figure on the floor, looking incredibly fragile in hospital blue overalls and furry white slip-ons embroidered with 'Newton Abbott Community Hospital'.

She was here.

This whole time, she was here, in his shop, while he was too busy running around town.

For a moment, George stood rigidly by the door, staring down at Elinor. A part of him thought that this was just a desperate dream, but he was too afraid to pinch himself in case he woke up. He didn't want to wake up.

Elinor's voice cracked, "I'm a coward. When things get hard, or the choices are difficult, I run away. I'm a wuss, a pathetic loser, and I don't know why I chose to come here. I don't know why when I decided to run away, again, this is the only place I could think of—"

That grounded him back.

George crouched down and engulfed her in a squeezing hug, one hand pressed against her shoulder and the other firmly held the back of her head. She was real. She was real.

He was relieved beyond words.

"It's okay," George whispered shakily, looking up to the ceiling, "Godric— It's okay. Whenever you feel like running away, run here, okay? Come here. Come to me. Here."

He felt her wet tears soaking through his shirt. They fell onto the floor and shifted their position so he was spooning her, burying his face in her hair. They didn't know how long they stayed that way, but nothing ever felt more comfortable and right than this.

☆★☆

28/04/2001
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Diagon Alley, London
¬

"IT'S WINTER IN A JAR."

Nobody stated it out loud, but neither George nor Elinor wanted to be apart from each other. He had his arm circled around his waist as he guided her upstairs and she clenched onto his shirt as he made her a hot beverage

They ended up curled up on the couch with a blanket thrown over their legs. Elinor clasped her hands around the cup of chocolate drink, warming her palms with it, while George had one hand thrown over her shoulder and the other holding his brand new invention.

"Open it."

Elinor sluggishly reached for the jar, which resembled the mason one she had as night light in her room, and turned the lid open. A white ball of light flew out of it like a dandelion seed, floating higher and higher until it reached the ceiling and exploded into white, fluffy substance.

Snowflakes.

Lots and lots of them, raining subtly in George's living room and piling up on the wooden floor.

"Whoa..." Elinor breathed, "It's beautiful."

With a flick of his wand, George created a protective ball around them, as if they were watching the snowfall through a window. Gently, he placed a beanie on Elinor's head and wrapped a scarf around Elinor's neck, making sure she was warm and cozy.

"Do you like it?"

Elinor hummed in agreement.

"Good. You have to like it. I made it for you."