𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 | f. w

viii. family matters*

He wasn't wrong. All she could think about was what she had been meaning to tell him for so long, and what she was now bottling up inside, trying to keep from coming out. Everything about him made her want to throw her arms around him and kiss him and tell him how sorry she is for what she did. But she couldn't. It would ruin everything. She knew that.

"Oh—yeah. I'm fine. A bit tired, is all", she gave him a weak smile, her chin resting in the palm of her hand as she stared into the warmth of the fire, drifting off into the land of the past.

"Okay, well—if you're sure you're okay, I'm just gonna head to bed. You'll help Verity with the register tomorrow as well, yeah?", he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, before heading up the stairs to the bedroom.

As soon as Fred was out of view of the girl, she carefully - without making too much noise - brought out the pile of hand written letters she had been keeping stuffed away under her mattress (she was sleeping on the couch, which could be magically transformed into a king sized bed). Letters she had been writing to him from the day she left London to the day before she came back. Letters she never sent. Love letters.

Teary-eyed and with a promise to never share their contents, she threw them into the blazing fire.

Watching as they crumbled to ash, she soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

✦✧✦

The following days were spent tending to the very crowded and busy shop in Diagon Alley. It almost felt like the place had been given a second chance. After the war, and before Edith found herself in Romania, Fred had struggled immensely trying to keep from having to shut it down all together. It wasn't the same without George, and people found themselves coping with the trauma of it all. Buying Fizzing Frisbees wasn't exactly people's top priority at that point. Understandably so. However, after a few months, curious folk started gathering outside the shop as if nothing had ever happened. Perhaps they'd come to realise, that laughter and mischief was what the world needed. It was a way to move on from the haunting past, a way to heal.

"You know, Fred hasn't been able to stop talking about you since you came back", Verity whispered at a point when the crowding was starting to die down a little.

An immediate crimson blush seemed to coat her cheeks upon hearing those words, and Edith couldn't hide the smile forming on her lips.

She was happy. Happier than she's been in a very long time.

"Hmm?", she murmured nonchalantly, as if trying to sound unbothered. Of course, it was obvious she was highly affected by the comment.

Verity smiled. "Come on. You can't tell me you haven't noticed how happy he's been lately? I haven't seen him like this since before George...—". Sighing deeply, she placed a gentle hand on Edith's shoulder, before quickly tending to a costumer who wanted her product wrapped. Then she turned her attention back to the brunette.

"—All I'm saying is—it's clear he has feelings for you, and I'm pretty sure you feel the same way. So what's stopping you?".

"Everything. It's been so long, and we're finally in a good place. I-I don't want to ruin that. I don't want us to be strangers again". Edith smiled at a happy costumer exiting the shop, all while trying to keep a brave face that wouldn't show just how much she was really struggling.