Forget Me Not || George Weasley

Chapter 25

One is shorter than the other, the mousy brown hair a dead giveaway the minute George looks at him. That, and the lingering sadness in the lines of his face. George could remember Dennis Creevy at his sorting, dripping wet from falling into the Black Lake. He and Fred had nearly thrown up from laughing so hard. He could remember Dennis Creevy nearly passing out when Harry spoke to him for the first time.

He remembers Dennis sobbing over the body of his brother Colin.

George's throat tightens, and the recognition hits him like the Hogwarts express. This was Dennis, and George hadn't thought about him since he'd seen his own brother dead in the Great Hall. He hadn't really thought about anyone outside of his family, his closest friends. Panic stirs in his chest but he manages to squeeze out, "Dennis, good to see you."

The younger boy's brows raise in surprise, like he can't believe that George knows who he is. George is surprised too, because while Dennis looks much the same, the bloke standing next to him looks nothing like the Nigel Wolpert he had come to know at Hogwarts.

Nigel is taller now. Built instead of scrawny, like the war had broken him apart and in turn had remade him into something stronger. He has the same strawberry blonde hair, but it's cropped close to his head so that his curls don't grow thick and unruly. George remembers ruffling Nigel's hair, he remembers him finally succeeding in using a stunning spell while in Dumbledore's army.

He remembers Fred congratulating him for it.

Nigel smiles slightly, his blue eyes glinting like he too is remembering things from the past, "Long time no see, Weasley. How's business?"

George blinks, hand slipping from Olive's dungarees. For a moment he isn't sure he can respond, but then he feels the fingers holding the cuff of his sleeve slide underneath the fabric that suddenly feels like a restraint, and they gently tap the inside of his wrist,

"Good," George swallows, surprised that he's managing this at all, "Business is good." Inhale for six. Exhale for five.

Nigel nods, and George follows his eyes down to where Olive has her fingers up his sleeve. Something churns in his chest, something that feels close to that selfishness. George doesn't move away from her touch. He leans into it, slowly turning his palm face up and glancing down at the blonde when she tiptoes her fingers across it to seal their hands together.

"How'd you meet George, Liv?"

George glances up at Dennis' question, his lips twitching at the amusement on the younger bloke's face. Dennis wasn't the one concerned.

Nigel was.

Nigel's laugh sounds forced, a mixture of a strained huff and a chuckle that makes George feel uncomfortable, "She probably doesn't remember, Dennis."

George's hand tightens around Olive's, and the warmth is back in a far more volatile way. He peers at Nigel stonily, his voice flat, "She remembers."

Olive laughs, and he wonders if it sounds shaky only to him, "George is hard to forget. Besides, I write down the important stuff."

Important stuff. Merlin, she says it like it means nothing, like it's that simple. Important stuff. She thought he was important stuff.

His fingers squeeze her hand again, and then he mutters awkwardly, "I didn't mean to distract you. I just was coming to see if you were going to Hermione's birthday?"

Olive blinks up at him, that glassy wash appearing over her eyes and the pink in her cheeks telling him she couldn't quite remember, and that she was embarrassed for it. Probably because sodding Nigel had already made a snarky comment about her memory. He manages a slight smile, letting go of her hand slowly and saying, "She said she asked you, but go check your planner and see."