Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swap of the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won… it exists… it is real… it is possible… it is yours.
Ayn Rand, “Atlas Shrugged”.
***
The funeral was performed in the middle of May. It had been a beautiful sunny day, in total discord of the mourning family and friends. He felt it like if was some kind of dream, a horrifying dream of which he couldn’t wake up. The pain around him overwhelmed him and on the same time made him feel sick and think that none of those people could possibly feel the same pain than he, because they hadn’t lost it all. They all had hope, they all had reasons to go back to their everyday life. He couldn’t. Because sadly, sorrowfully and dramatically, the very half of himself was now buried six feet under. The words of compassion and encouragement about how everything would be just fine after a while just slipped him. He didn’t want to think of a future were he was and his brother was not. He didn’t want to think of the family that surrounded him, of the store that waited for his return. The only thing that he was feeling to do was to be alone in his apartment and drink fire whiskey until he was too drunk to remember this sorrow.
The sign on the front door of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes said “closed until further notice”. It had been like this for about six months, ever since the family of the owners has been targeted by the Death Eaters, and even though after the Battle of Hogwarts the Weasleys had been named National Heroes, among many others, the store remained closed. The kids that were anxious to buy mischief artifacts, had to turn away and headed to some other place, evidently disappointed, and tried to find some of the fun that they wanted. A red headed man looked how a group of curious kids with upset faces walked away from the store. He opened the front door with a flick of his wand and entered the lonely store. It hadn’t been cleaned or touched in months. But that wasn’t why he was there. He went to the back of the store and climbed the stairs. Once on the top, he opened the door and walked inside the empty kitchen-sitting room. He crossed the room, looking with slight disgust at the pile of dirty dishes and the mountain of to wash clothes. There were two doors in the opposite wall and, with no hesitate, he opened the first one.
It was as dark inside of the bedroom as it was on the living room. The curtains were closed and the small bed table was stained with dried wax from the candles. On the floor, next to the bed, there was a half empty bottle of fire whiskey and a broken glass. On the bed drooling over the pillow pale and looking truly lousy, laid George. After thinking for a moment, Charlie kneeled next to him and with his right hand he obstruct George’s nasal’s orifice. After thirty seconds or so, he woke up very agitated. He looked at his older brother, who was grinning.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked as he sat up.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Charlie said, looking around the room. “What are you doing, Georgie? Drinking and staying in bed all day? This isn’t you.”
“Don’t start,” He got up and started looking for a clean pair of robes.
“I’m only doing it for your own good.”
“Well, thanks, but no, thanks.” He finally found one and passed over his head.
“Listen, you need to stop doing this to yourself. You need help. Let us help,” George didn’t say anything, so Charlie went on “Look, I understand how you’re feeling…”
“No, you don’t.”
“He was my brother too, you know!” Charlie yelled.
“Oh, really? Were you born the same day he was? Did you spent every single day of your life with him? Do you know what was he afraid of? Which was his favorite song? What he used to do when he got up every day? No you don’t! I do, and it hunts me ever since he died! You don’t know what it’s like to be used to spent your whole life with somebody and all the sudden that person is taken from you, don’t you? You can’t possibly begin to understand how I feel!
He turned back with tears in his eyes, but refusal to cry in front of his older brother. His words had apparently made an effect on Charlie, who looked down and said nothing for a while. George calmed down and saw his older brother broken.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help, but I just can’t do this right now. I can’t.”
“Okay. We’ll be expecting you when you’re ready,” He walked through the bedroom door and stopped in the middle of the living room. “Just make sure it doesn’t take you that long, mate. We miss you”
George nodded in agreement and waited until he heard the front door closed. Once he did, he sat on one of the armchairs, waved his wand so that the fire whiskey bottle flied to him and started drinking once again.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound was painful to George’s hears. He wished that it would stop, but it didn’t. Knock, knock, knock. Then a sound of footsteps over the wooden floor came to him. Whoever it was was now climbing the stairs. Knock, knock, knock. Now was hammering at the apartment door. He gave a frustration grunt and yelled from under the blankets.
“If you’re any other of my relatives and you’re concern, please GO AWAY!” no answer “And if you’re not related to me, follow the same instruction, will yah.”
On the exact moment when he was about to go back to sleep, the bedroom door opened and the most unexpected person appeared on the threshold. Light skin, petite, brunette and grey eyed, Alicia Spinet was looking at him, surrounded by the shadows of the apartment. She had her arms crossed like if she was about to lecture a very troubled little boy.
“What are you doing here?” asked George in surprise.
“I talked to your brother yesterday; he said you were pretty bad shaped. I thought you might need a hand.”
She walked to the bed looking around, with a expression that clearly said “obviously you do.” She sat on the bed and looked at his eyes. “So,” she said, as George remained in silence, “how you’ve been doing?”
“Awesome. Drinking and wasting my time are real fun,” he answered ironically.
“You’re still in denial, huh?”
“I’m not denying anything,” he said defensively.
“Yes, you are,” She stood up and clapped her hands. “C’mon, let’s go! We’re going out.”
“Out?” said George like if the idea would totally terrified him.
“Yes, out, to the world. Get up,” she demanded “I’m not leaving this room until you’re up and ready”
“I can’t get out,” he said.
“Yes you can. Is not that hard,” She laughed.
“No, I mean from the bed,” He said a bit embarrassed “I’m naked.”
“So?”
“Okay, let’s discuss the wonders of the human body!” he said irritated.
She turned around and stared at the opposite wall.
“Why were you naked, anyway?”
“I kinda got drenched in fire whiskey last night and I was too tired to get dressed before going to bed. Besides, it’s not like I knew I’d be having such a delightful visit this morning,” He said with evident sarcasm. But Alicia wasn’t troubled by the tone.
“It’s three o’clock on the afternoon, George,” she responded, pitifully.
“Why do I have to go out?” he said changing the subject.
“Because you have no food and you’re too slim; you’re too pale and need to see the sun shine; you need to do some exercise; you…”
“Okay, I get it.”
They left the store and started walking through the Diagon Alley. George wanted to be back at his dim apartment; he had the awful sensation that everybody were staring at him and whispering. He knew that it was stupid, that it was just his mind playing with him, but he couldn’t control the paranoia that was gradually growing inside of him. Maybe Alicia understood how he was feeling, because she suggested going to the muggle London and finding some quiet place to eat. They went to the Leaky Cauldron and, after refusing Tom’s request of staying there, they entered the Muggle world.
Once there, for the first time in months, George felt free. Nobody around him knew what had happened in March, or how he had been behaving lately. There, surrounded by chatty shoppers, he was nobody, and, as such, the pain slipped away, only for a short while.
They entered a fast food store and bought hamburgers, fish and chips, soda and ice cream. They left the store with their food in paper bags (Alicia had cast a freezing charm on the ice creams when nobody was looking so that it wouldn’t melt) and headed to a lonely alley. They disappeared and reappeared on the coast of a river. The place was deserted, except for a few people that were sitting there. They sat on the ground, far from anyone, and started eating. George was surprised that he enjoyed spending that time with Alicia. She wasn’t trying to convince him to talk of how he was feeling and appreciated that. When they started eating the ice cream, the sun sat, and suddenly, out of nowhere, she started talking.
“My mum and dad got married when she was very young, right after she finished Hogwarts. Her parents didn’t want her to do it, but they were in love, so they didn’t care. Like a minute later, she was having me and life was just good,” she didn’t look at him; she was concentrated in her ice cream. “And then, after her twenty first birthday, she started to get sick. The Healers diagnosed her with the Kuznetsov Disease. It’s pretty rare and extremely deadly. It shows up after the person turns twenty one and the life expectation does not go further than seven years. My entire childhood was marked with episodes were my mum forgot who she was, or me or my dad, and she started to lose control of her magic. It was pretty scary at the time, because I didn’t understand why it was happening. But it wasn’t like that all the time; mostly she was my mum, sick and weak, but still my mum. And then, at my ninth birthday, she collapsed. She had baked me this beautiful butterfly shaped cake, all pink and purple. She was cutting it when she passed out. She started floating and screaming, and everything in the room started flying and exploding and burning. I have a scar over my collar bone because I was too close to the window when it exploded. Eventually, my dad could take her to Saint Mungos, but there was nothing that they could do. We were told to stay in the hospital because she would die any time soon.” She paused for a few seconds and looked at the sunset. “It was horrible, I couldn’t breathe, sleep, think. I couldn’t bear to be in the presence of my father because I was afraid that if he saw how sad I was, that would make him cry. I spent hours without crying ‘cause I didn’t want my dad, my grandma, my grandpa or anybody to see how I was feeling. Until one day, Angelina showed up to the hospital. We were neighbors, not really friends, but we knew each other. She stayed with me the whole time, day and night. She didn’t have to say a word, because her presence meant more to me that any speech. After my mum die, I felt free to cry and talked only to her and I think that if I hadn’t had her by my side I would never be able to move on. She told me that some times it was easier to grief with someone that you don’t know than with your own family, because you are free to show your true feelings and you don’t have to worry about making the other person feel bad. And she was right, ‘cause when you’re in such a pain it’s hard to let go if you have to be pending of the other. This way you are the only one that matters and once you’re done with it, you can look around and see for the first time that the others are hurting too. So, when you feel that you want to talk, and if you want me to, of course, I’ll be here and I’ll be pending on you,” She finished and looked him in the eyes, finally.
George nodded in silence. He was thinking of what Alicia had said; how every single word seemed to caught him and made him want to hold the petite woman at his side. He knew she was sad too, even though she wasn’t showing it. He blamed himself for never ask her about her family, for never concerning about her. He felt that somehow, he should have.
They were very quiet during the way back to the apartment. This time, George didn’t have the paranoia feeling as they entered the Diagon Alley; all he could think was how right Alicia was. He invited her to go upstairs and she agreed. After an afternoon of soberness he realized that his apartment was, indeed, absolutely gross. He didn’t have any time to feel ashamed of it at the moment, because he suddenly started talking, without even considering what he was saying.
“How could he?! He wasn’t supposed to die! He had to come home with me so we could laugh and celebrate the end of the war! How could he leave me with this pain and the burden of being alone? How dare he?!” he started pacing around the living room, not caring that he was screaming. “And now I have to stay in here, alive, and miss him and wonder how thinghs would it be like if he hadn’t died. Every time I look something I remember him, or his jokes! I can’t think because I feel he’s in my head and I constantly imagine him talking to me! I dream that he’s alive and it’s so great that I don’t want to be awake! I had to cover all the mirrors in the apartment because it’s too painful to see him and knowing that it's just me!” at the next moment, he found himself being hugged by Alicia and crying over her shoulder. He hadn’t felt so hold in all those months and now he actually was letting go. Not all the fire whiskey in the world could ever be as good for him as this hug was. “How am I supposed to live without him by my side?” he asked.
“You will; I’ll help you,” She responded.
And with those simple words, George’s world knew light again.
***
He woke up next morning. He didn’t have a headache or felt lousy after a long night of drinking, because, indeed, he hadn’t drunk no even a single drop of alcohol. He remembered going to sleep very early, after a long talk to Alicia. George’s heart shake when he thought of her. She really understood him; she didn’t pressure him to talk of how he was feeling. Instead, she made him know that there was somebody at his side willing to hear him whenever he disposed it. She had stayed with him until he was ready to go to bed and left only after check that he was truly asleep.
He sat on the bed and looked around. He didn’t want to stay alone that day, after such an emotional night. He figured that, since he hadn’t bathed in about a week, he should start the new day with a hot shower. He left the bedroom and headed to the bathroom. Before entering, he took a look at the clock of the kitchen. According to it, it was 8:30 a.m. Once in the shower, he couldn’t help but feel humiliated when he asked himself which day of the week it was and couldn’t find a straight answer.
After the shower he got dressed and left the store. There wasn’t many people on the street, probably because the early hour. He started walking not knowing where to go or what to do and suddenly he felt the need to go to the Burrow. Before he could think otherwise, he appeared there. The gnomes were running all over the backyard and scaring two lonely chickens. He crossed the garden toward the back door and silently opened it. On the second he entered the kitchen, a woman throw herself to him a hugged him so hard he thought his ribs may be broken. Like a minute later, Molly Weasley let her son go.
“Oh, Georgie, it’s so good to see you! I’ve missed you so much, honey.” She hugged him another time, not as hard as before, thankfully, and kissed him on the cheek.
“Hi, mum.” George went to the table and sat on one of the chairs. There was nobody else.
“Your father went to work about half an hour ago; he’ll be so sorry he missed you.” She said as she sat too. “Charlie’s gone as well, but I’m afraid I have no idea where. All I know is that he said something about a friend from Romania coming to visit.” She stared at him and her eyes started to get wet. George really didn’t want to see her cry.
Maybe she knew that too, because she said something about going to look for something at the garage and left through the backdoor. George thought he would stay alone until she got back, but he soon heard the noise of big foots going down the stairs. A second later, Ron walked in the kitchen. He saw George, gave him a small smile and sat at his side.
“So, having a good morning?” he asked casually. George nod.
“Quite good. It’s one of the best lately.”
“Charlie said that he went to your place yesterday, but that you weren’t doing so well. What made you change your mind?” Ron said, right to the point.
“A lot happens on one day.” It was true.
“Well, whatever it was, I’m glad it helped you.”
“Thanks.” He sighed, a bit awkward, something extremely rare on him. Wishing to change the subject, he said “So, what’s new?”
“Nothing much… Ginny, Harry, Hermione and I are going back to Hogwarts this September. Dad’s working hard with Percy and Kingsley at the Ministry. Mum’s, well… not Mum, but she was worse a few weeks before. Oh, and you’re gonna be uncle.” He reported.
“Bill and Fleur’s?” George asked interested.
“Yeah, they found out last week. Must have been tough for Bill to handle. I mean, feeling so happy for being a dad after what happened. I would feel guilty, not that he should, of course, but I’m guessing he’s feeling that way.”
When did Ron became so sensitive?, thought George. Before he could say another word, Harry entered the kitchen.
“Morning.” He said to George, very surprised and glad of finally see him. He sat next to George.
“How are things with my sister?” he asked.
“Great” Harry nod.
They remained in silence until Mrs. Weasley came back to the kitchen. It was obvious for her voice and eyes that she had been crying. She prepared them some breakfast, which they ate with the join of Ginny and Hermione. They spent the morning talking. They told George everything that had happened in the last months; after three hours in a row, he was aware of anything from the Ministry to little Teddy Lupin. He found himself enjoying the company of his family; he hadn’t realized until that moment how much he had missed them. They asked him to stay for lunch, but he thought that he need some alone time. Not because he didn’t want to be around them, but because he felt that he needed to take it more slowly. He did, however, agreed to go for dinner the next day.
George was walking through the Diagon Alley, not caring where he was stepping. He was looking at the shop windows when a petite brunette woman inside of the Magic Box, a shop where you could buy different kind of magical furniture, such as lamps, trunks with very large interiors and color-shifting carpets, came to his attention. He smiled slightly and went into the store. Alicia was being paid by an old lady carrying what looked like a floor lamp wrapped in gift-wrap. Her father, a nice looking man in his middle forties, with her daughter’s same eyes and grayish hair was writing something next to the cash register. When the old lady left, Alicia turned to George.
“Hey, good to see you in broad day light!” she said with a grin.
“It’s all your merit. Listen can we talk? It’ll be just a minute,” He asked.
“Sure. Is everything okay?” she was looking at him very serious.
“Yeah; I’ve just… I went to the Burrow,” He said, relieved “It was easier to be around them after last night, just like you said.”
“I’m proud of you. You must be tougher than I thought you were. I’ve never expected you to start healing so fast,” She said with her voice full of warmth.
“And that’s not it. I thought you should be the first one to know that I’m reopening the store,” He declared.
“It was about time. Who’s gonna teach all those kids how to best play pranks without being caught?” she joked.
He laughed and looked at her in the eyes. He had lived with her for seven years at Hogwarts and never saw what that look held. Deep down, he could see a broken smile, but he could also see hope for things to get better. And that’s what he most liked about her. She blushed at his intensive gaze and looked down, half smiling.
“So, hum, do you wanna come to my place later so you can see how much I have improved on the store’s restoring?”
“Yeah, I’d love to. I’ll be there.”
They said good-bye and both led to their respective work places, both grinning with pleasure.
With Arms Outstretched by maggiequeen
Chapter Notes: The title of the fanfiction it is based on a song by Rilo Kiley. I do not own any of the characters or the plot, I just like to play with them.
I know that this chapter started sad and that George's attitude may seem slightly Out of Character, but I know where I'm going with this and I can promise a very happy ending. Just remember that, as J.K. Rowling said, George really never got over his brother's death; that he changed.