#this was like one of my first fics
Smile once more like you did before (George Weasley x Reader)
A/N Set after the battle. Again, apologies for any errors or inaccuracies, if you find one tell me and I’ll fix it update: turns out I missed off the ending so it’s been added in A/N
You apparated a short distance a way from a large homely building you knew as the burrow. It looked darker somehow like a large grey cloud was looming over it and it’s inhabitants.
You cautiously made your way up to the front door and knocked twice. A large dish of steaming food was a welcome source of warmth to your chilled hands in the slight spring chill. Just as a gust of wind swept past you, the door swung open to reveal Molly Weasley. She smiled but you could tell it was forced even if she hadn’t meant it to be. You didn’t blame her after everything, it was hard for most to smile at the losses from the war especially those closest.
“Hello, dear.” She said in an attempt at a cheery tone.
“Hi. I-uhm.” You stumbled with unsureness in your voice. You held up the dish of casserole as if to let it speak for you. “I brought this. It’s not much but-”
“Oh thank you, how kind. Do come in.” Molly ushered you in and took the steaming plate as you passed her. As you walked into the kitchen with her you got a closer look at her eyes which were puffy and red, her face looked tired.
You stood awkwardly as she placed the dish with an array of others, whether made by Molly herself or by others as gestures for her loss, you didn’t know. You glanced around, nobody else seemed to be here. It occurred to you as strange with their usually being so many occupants.
Molly caught your sweeping glance and motioned for you to sit at the table. “Arthur’s in the shed, working on things helps distract him.” She started answering your unasked question. “Ginny’s with Harry visiting Bill and Fleur, Percy’s upstairs asleep I assume and Ron and Hermione have gone to Australia to find her parents.” She hesitated before continuing at my inquisitive look. “And George- he’s upstairs too.” She said it whilst avoiding my gaze and in a tone that sounded as if it caused her pain.
“Is he alright?” You knew it was stupid question before the last word uttered from your mouth but you wanted to know. He was still your boyfriend after all.
You had been dating since your 6th year when your date to the Yule ball had stood you up and George had offered to dance with you after his date had mysteriously fallen ill. (You later discovered that Fred had slipped her a puking pastille.) But George had actually been your crush for 4 years prior. In your second year when you were being taunted by another student for being in (Y/H) in the corridors, George had been close by and stood up for you and escorted you back to your common room to make sure you were okay, that’s when the feelings towards him started.
Molly looked at you with a small smile but it soon faltered as she answered your question. “He’s- been better.” She said vaguely looking towards the staircase with a frown. She turned back to you. “He’s been drinking.” Your heart sunk at the thought. He was trying to numb the pain of loss with drink. “I’ve tried-” she held back a sob as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’ve tried to stop him but he won’t listen. I don’t want to lose him too.” She said the last sentence in a voice barley above a whisper, hoping you wouldn’t hear but you did. You grabbed her hand and smiled at her the best you could.
“Can I?” You nodded your head towards the staircase. Molly nodded as you made your way over, as you climbed the first step you looked back. Molly was wiping her tears hurriedly and putting dishes into the refrigerator.
You climbed to where you knew George’s room was. You hesitated but quickly shook the thoughts of turning back around out of your head and made your way to the door. You knocked but no sound came from within. You tried again and again but nothing. You creaked the door open slightly and saw George laying on his stomach, an empty bottle of firewhisky in his limp hand. A soft snore filled the room and you sighed in relief at the sound.
You walked into the room quietly, it was dark. The curtains were drawn and you saw by a thin ray of light that there were several bottles of liquor standing on the nightstand, some looked older, others more recent. You didn’t want to look at them much longer so you turned your attention to the sleeping figure who was curled up in his bed. He almost looked peaceful as he his snores continued. You got a closer look at his face, and like Molly, he looked tired. There were deep bags under his eyes. You brushed a stray piece of messy hair out of his face and he stirred. You held your breath. You had never seen him drunk and didn’t know what to expect. You weren’t fully sure if you were ready to talk to him yet either. To your relief he did not wake but instead rolled on to his back and slept on.
Something shiny caught your eye in the dimness of the room and you looked at where George’s arm had been. You picked up the small photo frame and the smiling faces of two men looked up at you as they moved around in the picture to show the front of a bright orange store. A store that was instantly recognisable as were the men in the picture. Fred and George were grinning their trademark smirks, first at the camera and then at each other. They looked happy as they had always done when they were together.
You didn’t realise you were crying until a tear dropped onto your hand. You replaced the picture to where it been. You wiped your eyes and made to exit the room deciding to come back another time when he was more awake. Just as you reached the door, a loud crash echoed through the room. You turned and realised the bottle of firewhisky had fell from George’s hands. He woke up with a start and his eyes fell on you. He squinted in the dim light of the room.
“(Y/N)?” There was a slight slur to his speech as he looked at you and you knew now there was no escape. He switched on a light and your eyes adjusted to the brightness of it as did his.
“What’re you doing here?” George asked still squinting as the light seemed to hurt his eyes. Your heart hammered in your chest, whatever you had wanted to say flew out of your brain. You couldn’t find any words to say. He looked on at you confused.
“I-” you stammered. “I wanted to see you.” The words came out in a whisper.
George’s look of confusion turned to agitation. “Come to check I’m ‘alright’ have you?” He said gesturing air quotes to add to his sarcasm and agitated tone. He looked away from you.
You stood frozen, not knowing how to react. He was either drunk or fed up with the amount of pity he’d been receiving, perhaps a mixture of both.
“George, I-”
“Let me guess you’re sorry for my loss. You understand what I’m going through.” Sarcasm was still evident in his tone. You shook of the feeling of anger, it was the drink and the tiredness, not to mention he’s been through a lot. “Do me a favour and leave me alone.” He added nastily.
You bit back your tongue as you went to leave but a sudden and random surge of anger rose as you spotted a picture lying on the floor in front of you. In the photograph, a large group of students stood smiling.
Dumbledore’s army, the group Harry and Hermione had started in your 7th year to fight umbridge. You, Fred and George were standing side by side laughing and smiling with each other.
“You know what?” You turned and George looked taken aback at your expression and tone of voice. “No.”
You marched over, grabbed the waste bin and begun throwing bottles in it. “George Weasley you are not going to do this to yourself.”
He furrowed his eyebrows at you and looked annoyed as you took the full bottle of firewhisky that stood on the floor beside his bed and trashed it. “What the-!”
“This is not what anyone would’ve wanted, least of all Fred.” You placed the waste bin back on the floor and stared defiantly back at him as he looked ready to argue.
“And how do you know what Fred would’ve wanted?” He stared angrily at you but he still sounded slightly taken aback at your boldness.
“Maybe I don’t. But I knew him and I know you, George. And you sitting around like this, getting drunk every day isn’t helping anyone. Last year when you opened that joke shop, it brought happiness to a lot of people who were in a world of darkness. That’s what we need George. Light.” You stared into his eyes which soon avoided your steady gaze. “I’m not saying you have to start making jokes every second but we need you to be you, George.”
“But I’m nothing without him.” He mumbled sadly under his breath.
“Are you kidding, you’re George freakin’ Weasley!” You punched his arm playfully and you could’ve sworn you saw a smile play at his lips. He shook his head and looked at the picture of him and Fred. He looked back at you sadly.
“I don’t know, (Y/N).” He stared down at his lap. You were worried you’d gone too far and swore internally at yourself for being too forward.
“I’m sorry George. I’m gonna-” you gestured towards the door and made to leave.
“Wait.” You turned to see George standing up and facing you. He looked more sober than he had when he had first woken up. He looked at you hesitantly. “You’re right. I’m being an idiot.”
“I didn’t mean-” you started but was soon cut off once again.
“No I am. It’s just - it was nice not to have to feel anything.” George looked at the floor and you felt terrible. You hated seeing him like this. You grabbed his hand and moved your head to meet his downward gaze. You looked at each other briefly before he hugged you tightly.
You smiled and blushed slightly at the closeness. You both stayed locked in a silent embrace for what felt like forever before George broke the silence.
“(Y/N)?” He asked in a small voice.
“Yeah?”
“Do you still love me?” You broke the hug and stared into his brown eyes which were still red and swollen.
“Of course I do.” You smiled at him and cupped his jaw with your hands. “I have since I was 12 years old.” He smiled back and just like it always did, the sight created a small swooping sensation in your stomach.
“Really?” He gave a breathless chuckle. “Cause I’ve liked you since I was 11.” You smiled broadly before he closed the small gap between you both and kissed you sweetly.
Shortly after, you heard a call from downstairs about dinner from Molly. After a little convincing you made your way hand in hand down to the kitchen with George. Molly looked at your interlinked hands and smiled sweetly. George squeezed your hand as you both sat down at the table.
“Ginny and Harry will be along shortly.” Molly said as she served up plates of the casserole you had brought. Percy had come down for dinner and simply nodded at you in hello. He had clearly just woken up and looked pale as well as tired. Arthur had also come in from the shed and shook your hand as he sat down. He looked cheery at the food being served. You wondered briefly whether he just was putting on a brave face. “Dig in. Dig in.” Molly said.
Ginny and Harry arrived via floo powder, a couple of minutes after you had begun eating. They were surprised to see you but gave you smiles and hugs anyway. It was a quiet dinner that might have normally been loud and full of chatter. Ginny announced she was thinking about playing quidditch professionally and Harry said he was fully behind her in whatever she did. Everyone was pleasantly surprised when George made a joke about the double entendre. It caused an eruption of laughter around the table even from Mrs Weasley who typically disapproved of such jokes. The atmosphere seemed to become more comfortable as the evening went on.
After dinner you offered to help Molly clean up but you forgot that everything was done by magic in this house and so the plates were sent to wash themselves. She thanked you for the offer anyway. Once Ginny had roped George into a game of exploding snap and Harry, Percy and Arthur had delved into conversation in the sitting room, you were left with Molly who turned to you and smiled.
“Thank you (Y/N).”
“For what?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“I just haven’t seen him that happy since -since everything happened.” She looked at where George was laughing with Ginny and smiled again.
You looked at the pair as well just as George’s gaze caught yours and he winked at you and smirked. You knew the loss of Fred would never stop hurting him but you knew you wanted to be there for him no matter what.
