One and Only 3 ; George Weasley

236

This is literally the last chapter I've got saved but I'm publishing it because I love you all.

And I will continue writing.

-

Diagon Alley was awfully crowded.

I hated it. Shoulders bumping into me. Clothes brushing past the bare skin of my hands, reminding me of Luke forcefully undressing me. I wanted to get away. I wanted that more than anything.

I was walking with my family who were all chatting out of happiness, excited to be home for Christmas. We were going to stay in the flat until the twentieth of December when we would go to the Burrow where grandma and grandpa would host Christmas like always.

When we got off the train, Simon gave me back my notebook with a smile and then hugged me goodbye which I knew pissed Luke off, though he didn't hurt me because the platform was full of people. He did threaten me. I had to show up on December twenty-sixth, otherwise he'd hurt me when school started again.

The shop was full of little kids with their parents. Some were trying out the free samples of products and others were simply looking while a few was in the middle of purchasing up where Verity stood. Ron was stocking shelves and then my eyes landed on my dad on the other side of the room. How did he get there so fast? Did he apparate?

"All right." I then heard his voice behind me and I turned around to look at him, eyes wide. He noticed how I looked and a frown appeared on his way. "Sweetheart, you alright?"

"Uncle Fred!" I heard Veronica's voice as she came running from under the stairs with something in her hand. She ran to the guy that I thought was my dad, and showed him the thing in her hand.

No...

Next thing I knew, everything went black.

When I woke up again, I laid on the sofa in the living room. My vision was a bit blurry but after blinking a few times, it got more clear. Mum was sitting on the edge of the sofa and reached for a glass of water on the coffee table when she saw I was awake.

"Here, sit up and drink this." she told me. I pulled myself up to sit and my eyes landed on the person in the kitchen. The same person I saw in the shop. He sat on a chair in the kitchen, surrounded by my siblings and they all seemed to have become great friends with him.

No one seemed confused. Why was I?

How was that even possible?

"You fainted." mum told me as I grabbed the glass from her hand and drank almost all of it in one go. "Which... is understandable. I almost fainted too when I saw him."

"I thought he was dead." I said, my eyes staying on my very much not dead uncle in the kitchen.

"He was." she sighed. "We got an owl in late September. Grandma and grandpa found him next to his grave. The only thing wrong with him was that he was covered in dirt."

"But how is that possible? He should've been eaten by the worms due to being in the ground for eighteen years."

"He was stuck in the past, rewatching his own death."

"Huh?" I frowned. "As a ghost kinda thing?"

"You could say that." she nodded. "Though, in the alternative timeline he was in, I died too. He woke up in the casket after he managed to save me and have my father die instead."

Suddenly, dad rushed into the living room, placing his hands on the arm rest of the sofa at the other end than where I was sitting. He looked at me and he didn't look happy. Though he didn't look mad either. He looked hurt, sad?

"Vivi, darling..."

He sighed and I looked past him to see Sammy look our way. No... he did not. Remind me to beat his fucking arse later.

"Get up." dad told me.

"George, what are you doing?" mum asked. "She just fainted. She needs rest."

"I need to speak to our daughter."

"Dad?" I questioned. "I'm sorry. I-I don't k-know what S-Sammy told you. I-I didn't–"

"I'm not mad at you." he frowned. "You're not in trouble but I do need to speak to you."

Mum watched as I slowly got up from the sofa. I pulled my sleeves down around my hands and followed my dad through the living room and into the kitchen where the door was. I hadn't even been introduced to my uncle yet. Everything was happening so fast and what the hell did my dad know? He wasn't mad at me but he wanted to speak in the sound proof room. We walked down through the shop as Verity and uncle Ron were closing it.

Dad held open the door to the basement and let me walk through first before he followed. I hadn't been down here in such a long time but the sight immediately made me smile. I remember being younger and sitting down here with Sammy and our father. He'd show us how he'd make uncle Fred's favourite potion. Amortentia. He loved pranking people to find out who they were attracted to and apparently he pranked mum before she started dating my dad.

"Vivi." dad spoke, causing me to snap out of my thoughts to look at him while he turned on the light in the room. "Roll up your sleeves."

My eyes widened as his request and I quickly shook my head, moving my arms to behind my back.

"Roll up your sleeves." he repeated. "Show me your wrists."

I didn't say anything. I just carefully looked at my dad. He looked back at me and he didn't look like someone who wanted to be messed with right now.

"Sammy told me something." he started explaining. "He told me about your behaviour lately. Your sudden urge to be alone instead of being with your siblings and Emery as usual. He saw when you burned all of your t-shirts. He told me what Emery told him. You don't change in your dormitory anymore. You go into the bathroom and that they haven't seen your arms for months. So I am asking you one more time Genevieve. Blakely. Weasley. Would you please roll up your sleeves?"

"No."

He sighed.

"Does Sammy have a reason to think you're harming yourself?" He asked.

I scoffed, running a hand into my hair to tug on it. "I'm going to kill him. I'm gonna fucking kill him."

"Genevieve!" Dad raised his voice at me to gain my focus again. "Don't get mad at your brother for caring about you. He did right in telling me when he was worried."

"Yeah? Did he tell you anything else?" I asked sharply.

"What else do I need to know?"

"Nothing." I sighed. I bit my lip and looked at him for a minute before roughly pushing up my sleeves and showing him my wrists. "There! Happy?! This is pathetic. I'm pathetic."

"Pa— what?" He frowned. He grabbed under my wrist, being careful to not hurt me as he looked at the scars of both the razor blade and the cigarette. "Why— why would you do this? Hurt yourself?"

"I don't know."

"I don't believe you." He told me.

"It doesn't matter." I said. "You wouldn't understand."

He pulled a chair out from under the table and motioned for me to sit, which I did as he sat opposite of me. "Try me. You talk, I listen."