Good Girl || George Weasley

54

"Kill him."

"I can't. I can't, please, don't make me–"

But, against my will, I watch my arm raise, my wand pointing right at Harry, who stands on the other side of the graveyard. Instead of Death Eaters, I'm surrounded by my friends and family, who are all watching me.

"Kill him," the soft, womanly voice says in my ear, even though nobody is standing near me.

"I don't–"

Still, there's a flash, and I hear myself scream, even though my body is frozen. The green light, from my wand, hits Harry, and his body hits the ground, lifeless.

I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks as everyone in the circle screams at me, asking why I would do that, calling me a monster and a murderer. George, Fred, Charlie, Ron, Hermione, they're all there, hate in their eyes, directed at me. Only the woman's voice in my ear, so familiar, praises me.

"Excellent, my dear Kathryn. I knew you were one of us."

I sit up, choking back a sob as I bring my knees to my chest. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust, for me to realize that I'm not back there, that I'm safe. I feel arms wrap around me from behind, and I feel George softly kiss my shoulder and then my neck.

"You're okay," he whispers, caressing my hair back as I try to catch my breath and stop trembling. "You're safe. I'm right here. You're safe now. You got out of there, baby."

I wake up twice more that night, and each time George wakes up with me, calming me down with his words and his touch until I'm able to drift back to sleep. I apologize to him first thing in the morning, exhaustion still weighing me down, and he assures me I don't have anything to apologize for.

I feel a little better when he does, indeed, join me in the shower.

It's not as sexual as I was expecting, but it's very intimate, and really, really nice. He carefully washes my hair for me, and for a few minutes, he just holds me under the hot water, our bare, flushed skin pressed against each other in much-needed contact. I throw on some of his clothes so that I have something clean to wear over to my room, but by the time I'm walking with the twins, Roger, and Lee to breakfast, my stomach is turning, and I want to just go hide for a while.

Because the minute we step into the Great Hall, everyone's staring. And not in a good, she-just-won-the-Triwizard-Tournament way. Some look amazed, some look like they're judging me, others don't even look at me. Any normalcy or close-to-normalcy I felt with the boys last night is long gone, and the only reason I'm still able to function is because of the tight grip that George has on my hand, assuring me that he's here with me.

Harry isn't there, and I don't blame him. I don't see him until later, when we're both called to Dumbledore's office, and I have five hundred Galleons put into my hands by Fudge, who smiles warily at me as he does, like he either thinks I'm raving mad or going to have a mental break.

Or both.

I'm also told that, due to the circumstances, I have my Apparition license without having to redo the exam, and not to worry, that Barty Crouch Jr. will be receiving the Dementor's Kiss.

I almost want to laugh. Sure, just like that, I won't worry anymore. It's not like Voldemort's back or anything.

The minute we both leave, Harry turns to me, clutching the pouch of his five hundred Galleons in his hands. He has this haunted look on his face, and every time I look at him, it doesn't seem like he's really here. 

And I get it more than I'll ever be able to say.

"I don't–"

I shake my head, knowing what he's about to say.