Wot In The Harri Potter?

45 - The Matchmaker

Luckily, Fred saves me. "She didn't make the journey," he says. And suddenly I am filled with his scent as he comes up behind me, leaning over to put my mug of tea down on the table in front of me.

The room falls into a respectful silence, and I nearly die when instead of moving away, Fred places a hand on my shoulder. All I want to do is turn around and hug him, the need to be in his arms is maddening that I don't know how he can't tell just by being near me.

And then his hand leaves and it is Ginny who is pulling me into a hug instead, her flowery perfume replacing his earthy and familiar scent.

"I'm so sorry, Harri," she breathes. "I know she was special to you."

I attempt to eat some breakfast, but not even the delicious melt in the mouth pancakes can help the gnawing feeling of grief in my chest.

I am relieved when I can be excused, with Molly insisting that I must not help clear up on account of it being my birthday. Instead, I go and take George a plate of pancakes to the sitting room where he is still recovering on the sofa.

"Thanks," he murmurs croakily as he attempts to sit up. "And happy birthday."

Seating myself on the coffee table, I try not to wince at the sight of the bloodied bandages around his head, my stomach lurching at the thought of the hole beneath them.

"How are you feeling this morning?" I ask, regarding him sadly. I feel so guilty about what has happened to him.

"Saintly," he mutters.

"Huh?" I ask, thinking that his experience must have helped him find god or something.

"Oi," says Fred entering the room holding a cup of tea. "You already used that one last night."

"Yeah but Harri didn't hear it so it doesn't count." George shrugs, smirking at his brother who sits down on the coffee table next to me, sipping his tea.

"Go on then," I smile, having missed this easy banter with the twins, "tell me why you're feeling saintly?"

"I'm holey," George grins pointing at his no-ear. "Geddit?"

"It was a rubbish joke last night George, and it still is this morning." Fred scoffs, chuckling to himself.

"I disagree," I argue, cocking an eyebrow at Fred, "it's one of the best I've heard in a long time."

"Then you couldn't have heard that many jokes," Fred says as George and I high five each other.

"No, I haven't had much to laugh about lately," I say. It wasnt meant to be a dig, but somehow that's exactly what it comes out sounding like.

After a brief, awkward silence, George breaks it. "Hey Fred, have you given Harri our present yet?"

Fred shakes his head. "Thought I'd save the best till last. Wait here."

Putting his tea down, he jumps up and swiftly leaves the room. I look at George, raising my eyebrows.

"He misses you, you know," George says quickly. "He's been a right grumpy bastard since you two broke up-"

"Since he broke up with me." I correct him.

George regards me sadly. "He thought he was being honourable by freeing you. I tried to tell him he didn't need to break both your hearts over it. But you know what Fred's like - he never puts his happiness first. The guy would literally die for you."

"The thing is, he didn't free me," I mutter dully, "Instead he broke my heart, and over no real reason I can tell other than the fact that he thinks I deserve better than someone who runs a joke shop."