Unlikely || George Weasley

Chapter 7 - Embers

The Burrow, May 17 1998

George couldn't take his eyes off her.

In his defence, Hermione was wearing that soft blue off-the-shoulder blouse and had her hair loose, with a few strands pinned behind her ears. He loved that top. Even from a distance.

He heard a gentle cough behind him, and he turned to catch Fred wiggling his eyebrows at him.
"Are we concentrating, Georgie?" He goaded, flicking his gaze towards the window and the girl with her books under the great oak tree.

George flipped him off, returning his attention to the endless list of owl-orders for the shop put between them at the kitchen table. Seriously, when did they get so popular? He had no idea that people would be in such demand of fireworks after a war.

It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon. As promised, the twins were back for a family meal in the evening. Their dad was enjoying a rare day off and was out setting the table early, the elongated bench placed in the garden shade. It was a hot day, unusual for England in the Spring. But it gave the family a chance to eat outside rather than all crammed around the Burrow's small dining table.

It was the first time Fred and George had been home since moving back into the flat. They'd spent the past week cleaning it from top to bottom and sorting through all the old stock in the shop. George had a hunch that Fred was trying to prove some kind of point; that he could do everything by himself and didn't need any help. He had been keeping a close eye on his twin (not just to appease their mother) but Fred had been slowly working his way back up to full health. He could go the full working day without looking tired or needing a break longer than twenty minutes for lunch.

Bill and Fleur would be back from their brief trip to see her parents in France, and Ginny had invited her friends Neville, Luna and Hannah Abbott to join them. It would be an almost full house later. A united front, he realised with a jolt, as both the funerals for the fighters at Hogwarts and the first Death Eater trials at the Ministry were due to start tomorrow.

It was Lavender Brown's funeral in the morning.

Fred threw down his quill and stretched, snapping George out of his morbid thoughts. "I'm starving. It must be time for a break by now, we've been at this for hours."

"Fancy a game of quidditch?" George offered. He was keen to get outside too. Keen to move, run, celebrate being alive.

"Hell yeah!"

They abandoned the table and Fred stuck his head up the stairs.

"RON! HARRY! PERCE! GINNY!" He bellowed. There was a distant sound of footfall and then-

Crack. Ron and Harry apparated into the sitting room.

"What the bloody hell are you shouting for?" Ron demanded, twisting his finger in his ear like he needed to clear it of wax.

Before George could answer, there came a loud "WHADDYOUWANT?" from an upper floor.

"Her voice can really carry." Fred muttered before calling up, "QUIDDITCH MATCH!"

A second crack and Ginny joined them, pulling her hair into a high ponytail.

"No need to shout. I'm in." She pecked Harry on the cheek. Ron pointedly looked away.

Fred was frowning. "That's only five of us – unless one of you wants so sit out? No sign of Percy."

"We could wait until after dinner. Bill could join in, that would make six?" Harry suggested but George shook his head.

"Nah, it'll be too dark by then. We could ask..." He tapered off, nodding towards the front window where Hermione was still visible.

"Not likely." Ron scoffed.