BLEED OUT ━━ george weasley

xx. feels like this

On the fourth day, she opened the door.

It was almost lunch time, but Fred and George were stood in the kitchen, wearing matching grim expressions as they stood with their heads bowed over a sheet of parchment.

On the table, the Daily Prophet laid open, the front bearing a moving picture of Harry's face and thick block letters reading Undesirable No. 1.

"What's that?"

The twins jumped sky-high before whirling around to face her. George's brows furrowed, but Fred was quick to revert to his usual self as he smacked a hand over his chest and jokingly demanded, "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Keegan shrugged. "It's not my fault you're easy to sneak up on."

"Did you just say I'm easy? Keegan, you're being awfully rude today..."

Keegan merely rolled her eyes as he laughed and gestured to the paper in George's hand. As she took a tentative step closer, she realised it was a letter.

"They're okay," George muttered, each word thickly laced with tension. Fred glanced between the two of them, all of a sudden uneasy. "Here. See for yourself."

We're alright. Don't write anything back. If you need anything, go to Bill and Fleur's.

Mum.

She didn't sign their names, or give an address. Just in case. They could never be too careful, especially not now, with the Death Eaters breathing down their necks.

"Where's Bill and Fleur's?" she asked, her voice soft but croaky from lack of use. She handed the note back to George then, who refused to meet her eyes as he folded the parchment up and returned it to its envelope.

"Cornwall," Fred replied when George refused. Keegan had the sinking feeling he was angry. Not that she blamed him. "Aunt Muriel's sister, can't remember her name for the life of me, used to own this place right on the water before she died. Bill and Fleur moved in a couple weeks ago, guess they've decided to use it as a safe house."

"But we don't have to go there now, do we?" she frowned. "You've got the shop..." At that, the twins exchanged a terse look, one Keegan couldn't discern. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Fred sighed as George marched out the door. Keegan turned around to watch him disappear into their room for the first time in days. Her face paled at the memory of her letter on the desk, and the crumpled bits of paper scattered around it. Thoughts she'd tried and failed to put into words, none of them all that pretty. "But we've decided it might be best to... take a break for a while."

"Take a break?"

"Stay closed."

"What? But the kids love your shop! You're about to get the end of holiday rush before Hogwarts starts up again."

Fred frowned. "You haven't read the paper."

It wasn't a question.

"Well, I don't get the Daily Prophet delivered to my bedroom window," she scoffed.

She'd expected a laugh or something from Fred, but he remained uncharacteristically serious as he mumbled, "You should read the paper, Keegan."