integrity ━━ george weasley

-24 || Find Her In Blood

     Melora's entire body was shaking. As he grabbed her shoulders and attempted to jolt her back to conciousness, he heard Fred running after him. As his brother peered down at the disturbing body of Melora, he breathed out a curse. George removed his hands from her shoulders, as the technique was clearly not working, but yelled when he realised they had come away absolutely smothered in her blood.

     "Help me take her inside," he practically ordered Fred, who immediately took her feet, leaving George to return to the girl's blood-soaked shoulders.

     It was difficult to move her whilst she was quivering about, but once they managed to heave her body into their living room, she was in the hands of Molly Weasley. Their mother looked livid that her sons had gone out when she had specifically told them not to, but her anger disappeared as she instantly realised what their issue was.

     Frantically, she retrieved some Dittany from the medical supply in the kitchen, announcing that the girl was suffering from a splinch. She decided to remove the jacket that Melora was wearing to be able to get to her slashed shoulder, but immediately froze. George scowled at her.

     "What's wrong? Why aren't you doing anything, Mum?" George asked, panicked that perhaps they wouldn't be able to help her. She must've been laying there for a while, because when they found her she had already lost a lot of blood.

     "We can't help her, not when she's like this," she whispered, before pointing at the girl's forearm. George felt his heart sink when he saw what was being shown to him. Melora had the Dark Mark engraved into her skin. He had hope that it wasn't her choice, but his mind still told him that maybe she had actually betrayed them. "Not if that's who she is."

     "You need to help her anyway," he said sternly, realising that the girl was still bleeding and twitching from the splinch. "You can't just leave her like that!"

     There was a pause, where Molly only stood rooted to the spot, staring before her at the Death Eater that was bleeding out over her sofa. George could feel his heart rising into his throat, his body was churning the adrenaline within him, preparing for his break. His eyes flicked between the girl on the sofa, who was still spewing blood as her body convulsed, and his mother, who remained motionless from shock.

     "Mum!" George yelled at her angrily. "I don't care if she's with them or not! If you leave her like that, she'll die. You can't just give up on her because of a mark!"

     "It isn't just any mark, George. That's the Dark Mark," Molly explained, shaking her head as she continued to debate whether or not she should help. "And she's a Lestrange. She has almost endless amounts of power around her. If her parents ever found out-"

     "If her parents found out that we'd let her die, then we would be much worse off," George interrupted bravely.

     After another long pause, Molly reluctantly agreed and began to sort out Melora's arm. George knew that she had been very good at Apparating, and for her to end up with a splinch must have meant that something was wrong. He watched as his mother applied the Dittany onto her wound, and relaxed a little as Melora stopped shaking.

     "She looks dead," Fred shrugged, earning a glare from Molly.

     George simply stared at her, waiting for her to wake up, but she didn't. The girl lay very still after the Dittany had been applied, which was almost more unnerving than when she had been moving. The only comforting thing that remained was the fact that her chest continued to rise and fall at an average pace.

     Molly looked down at the girl, before turning to the twins. "You should leave her to rest. Go to bed."

     "What? No! I want to stay here," George scowled, looking at Melora, who remained lying still, her breathing still steady. He looked over at Fred for support, who nodded in agreement.

     "I know you do, but she needs to recover, don't you think? It would be better for you to go up to bed and sleep, rather than stay up all night when there's a chance she won't wake up until the morning," Molly explained, gesturing towards the stairs. "Don't miss out on sleep, because you'll need it later. Just go to bed for now."

     Sulking, both Fred and George left the room and began to head upstairs, but then George stopped midway up them. He turned to face his mother again.

     "Is she staying here?" he asked.

     "It would be dangerous to keep her here," she stated, glancing down at the girl pitifully. "So, no. Once she recovers, she'll have to leave."

     "What?" Fred frowned.

     "I think we should wait for her to wake up and tell us what she thinks," George challenged. "Or at least wait to find out why she was here at all?"

     "We can talk about it in the morning, but for now, just leave it. I'm tired, you're tired, and she needs to rest," Molly repeated, turning away from the twins.

     Fred continued on the way to his room, and after glancing at the - very still - recovering Melora, George left the room as well. He pushed open the door to his room, and was offered a smile from his brother.

     "She'll be fine, mate," Fred smirked. "I mean, come on, this is Melora Lestrange. What are you worried about?"

     "I'm worried about the fact that she's a Death Eater," George stated, sighing as he sunk down into his bed. After the events of the evening, he wasn't really in the mood to pack away any more products. He could always finish it in the morning. "That mark means that she's turned on us all."

     Fred shook his head. "You're blind, Georgie."

     "Huh?" he blinked.

     "You think she wants to be one of them? Are we even talking about the same person?" he laughed. George paused to think, before shrugging. He was only thinking of all the possible reasons. "Look, help me pack away this stuff, alright? I'm not doing it all myself, thank you very much."

     George smiled, and joined his brother in placing snackboxes and other amusing pranks into their moving boxes. Of course, he knew what Fred was saying was completely true, but she was still fighting on the other side of the war. She was a cruel enemy. She was a brutal attacker. And if her life carried on in the same way as her mother's, then she would also become a sadistic killer. And he hated that.

     He wanted to get her out of the situation more than anything; he knew she couldn't do it alone. The only question he had left, was this: Was it really her choice to become a Death Eater? He was being ridiculous, he knew that. Of course it wasn't. But when you were speaking with the enemy, you had to be careful.

     He used to be quite trusting. It was obvious who your friends were, and who wasn't. But upon fraternising with a Slytherin - an enemy - he had learned that it wasn't so simple.

     "Yeah, she'll be OK," he nodded. "I'm sure she will."

     Fred smiled again. "See? She'll be fine," he said. Then, when George met his eyes, another smile played on his lips. But it wasn't the mischievious one that usually made its appearance during pranks - it was quite genuine, and pleased. "You'll be fine, George."