Waldosia/// George Weasley

Chapter 11

"Right," she sarcastically laughed while stubbornly taking the money from his hands, shoving it in the customer's, and glaring back at George, "Just not about how you kissed me, yeah?"

Clover didn't know whose jaw dropped quicker, the customer's or George's. His eyes pointedly avoided hers and his face paled slightly, the only color evident in his expression was the red tint staining his cheeks. Not even a second later, he looked over at the customer and ignored the words that fell from Clover's mouth, "Have a good day."

Eyeing both Clover and George peculiarly, the man awkwardly made his way out of the shop. And with every last drop of stubbornness in her, Clover turned her back to George and walked over to the pile of Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs that had neglected to be finished getting stacked. She crossed her arms over her chest and began to angrily shove the boxes into the shelf in front of her.

It was immature the way he was acting; George knew that. He knew that the second his lips pressed against hers he should have apologized for what he did, how he did it, and why he did it. But as soon as their faces parted, he physically couldn't get those words, or any words for that matter, out of his mouth. George was at a complete lost for words. Everything had stopped moving and breathing and thinking and being. The only thing going through his head was that he was kissing lips that had never talked to Fred, he was wrapping his hands around a body that Fred had never touched. She wasn't like Angelina. Clover was his, the most selfish part of his brain told him. And, that's exactly why he stormed away from her that morning. Because it was only meant to be a destructive, mind-distracting kiss; he couldn't let it be more.

But as the days passed, his initial panic morphed into anger. He couldn't believe he had let Fred slip from his mind. He couldn't believe he let a simple kiss take away the memories of his brother, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. How could she so unknowingly take away everything from him? Once again the most selfish part of his brain came to the forefront; this is why he needed Angelina. As long as he had her, he never had to worry about Fred disappearing. George didn't think he could handle losing him mentally as well as physically, and he certainly wouldn't let Clover do that to him.

"They're crooked," he grumbled just loud enough so the blonde would hear him.

She turned around and narrowed her eyes at him, both of them staring at each other angrily. Keeping her eyes locked on George, Clover abruptly picked up another box and messily threw it towards stack, "If you don't like the way I do it, then do it your-

In the midst of glaring at each other, neither Clover nor George realized that the blonde girl had accidentally thrown the box directly towards the prototype on display. It had fallen to the ground, cutting her sentence off with a loud pop and an explosion of color.

That's all it took to set her off. A simple explosion of red and white sparked all around the shop, knocking over the rest of the Whiz-bangs while doing so. Pops and snaps and sparks were now shooting all around Clover, and boxes that were neatly stacked on the shelf above her rained down on top of her head.

Clover knew they were only fireworks, but her brain refused to acknowledge that. Instead of sparks, she saw spells being shot out. Instead of hearing an explosion of color, she heard the explosion of a wall. Instead of feeling boxes fall on her head, Clover felt like she was being buried alive by rubble.

Her hands shakily slapped themselves over her ears and she shut her widened eyes in hopes of grounding herself. But there was no stopping the panic and fear coursing through her body. Her breathing quickened to the point where she felt as if she was holding her breath. But she didn't care. All she knew was that the wall was coming down, the war was crashing around her. Linny...