Epilogue: Part 3

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2 December, 1998. I was still living at the burrow; I felt increasingly more unworthy of their hospitality, and more like a burden every day.

I often told mum Weasley this, and she always said, "don't you dare think that! We have plenty of room, and you help tremendously! You are my daughter!" She always knew how to make me feel better.

It was the morning of my 19th birthday, a Sunday— I woke up around 8a, and reached over to cuddle with Tabitha, who began purring excessively in my face. Just then, I heard the front door swing open. "Oi! I hear it's someone's birthday! Where's the birthday girl anyway?!" It was George.

I smiled to myself as I hid my face under my comforter as I heard him walk up the steps.

I stifled my laughter as Tabitha got down to see who was at the door. I closed my eyes and bit my lip to hide my laughter.

"Hmm.. birthday girl!" George quipped when he got close to my bed. I felt him sit down. He leaned up and whispered in my ear, "Mary... WAKE UP!"

I rolled over and smacked him as he started to tickle me. "Stop, ya git!" I laughed as I sat up to face him. "I've missed you Georgie!" He hadn't been around the past few weeks; the shop was bustling with new customers and it was becoming more and more busy.

"Same kiddo! Happy birthday!"

"Thanks Georgie! I'll guess I'll get up.."

"Good! Presents and a surprise downstairs," he winked. He walked out with a smirk, and I rolled to the edge of the bed.

I grabbed my necklace— the heart shaped locket Freddie gave me my fifth year; I recently added the ring he was planning to give me to the chain.

As I held it in my hands, I started to tear up. I would've been engaged to my best friend by the end of the day. But that's not possible now. I missed Fred everyday, but I was missing him extra this day.

I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed one of Fred's old quidditch jerseys from his dresser, and threw it on over the tank and shorts I was already wearing. I stopped to look at the full-length mirror on the wall on George's side of the room. I pulled the hem of the jersey up to my nose, and took a deep breathe. His scent still faintly lingered on the tattered maroon jersey. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and pet Tabitha before I exited the room.

As soon as I hit the hallway, George flew up the steps. "There she is!" He boasted. Then he paused for a moment when he noticed what I was wearing. He smiled, "close your eyes, sweets! I'll help you down the steps!"

"Oh sweet Merlin, you Weasley's will be the death of me yet," I chuckled. I closed my eyes and soon as I did, George grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. He proceeded to smack me lightly on the bum 19 times.

"Georgie! This is not helping me down the steps!" I said through my cackling.

I was smacking and kicking him, but he didn't put me down, "guess you're awake now, love?"

"You're an arse George Wesley!" I screamed through a fit of laughter.

"That's why ya love me, darling!" He cackled with another tap on the bum. We hadn't even left the hallway yet & he was already making me out of breathe from laughing.

He finally started to move toward the steps, me still slung over his shoulder, his hand comfortably on my thigh, just below my bum. I had given up trying to fight him and rested my head on my hand; my elbow was perched on his back.

"Eyes closed, love?" He asked before we stepped onto the landing.

I put both hands to cover my eyes, "yep!"

"Good!" He said with some sinister tone. He set me down and turned me the direction he wanted me. "Open 'em up!"

I did.

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