Irrevocably

Prologue

I grit my teeth to avoid crying out as another, painful blow steals the air from my lungs.

The Death Eater's boot lands in the same spot on my ribs and, this time, I'm sure I feel them fracture from the force. Agonising pain rips through my body and I hold onto the small act of rebellion that lies in not screaming with pain. It's what they want, afterall– to break me. And though they have been trying, that is the one thing they won't do.

"Tell us where he went!" The bigger of the two bellows, this time bashing down on my temple with the heel of his boot. My vision swims in and out of focus and a metallic taste floods my mouth.

Thankfully, they stop their assault for a split second. With a groan I push myself up to my knees, spitting a mouthful of blood on the ground beside me. "If I could just–" a fist connects with my jaw and I lurch to the side, catching myself before my face hits the ground, " – catch my breath."

"Now, you bitch!"

"Eat shit." I earn myself another painful kick.

Their relentless torment continues. Every inch of my limp body is bludgeoned for information I will never give up. Forcing my mind to go somewhere else, anywhere else, to power through the ongoing torture, I let myself go back to Bill and Fleur's wedding. How was it only a few hours ago when it feels like it happened in a previous life?

My eyes squeeze shut.

***

I'm swaying slowly with George, held so close to him that it's hard to tell where his body ends and mine begins.

With my head resting against his firm chest, I can hear and feel the steady beat of his heart, a rhythmic testament to his existence. The peace it brings me is indescribable.

I don't want to ruin the moment by dwelling on other things, but these days it seems like that's all I can do. My own heart will have to stop, but I hope George's continues to bound wildly for years to come.

One of his hands leaves my waist to cup my jaw, turning my gaze up to meet his. His voice lowers so he won't be overheard, "Just so we're clear, Mum isn't allowed to plan our wedding. That woman has been an absolute nightmare with all her fussing and colour-coordinating."

"Our– what?" I stare incredulously, cheeks heating.

The corner of his mouth lifts into one of his signature smirks that I have always been so fond of, "I'm sorry, did I stutter?"

"Well, no, but-"

"What? You don't want to marry me one day?" His voice is light as he teases me.

An irritated groan escapes me and I roll my eyes at how he knows exactly how to frustrate and fluster me, "I never said that! I just didn't know you were planning on being tied down forever, Weasley."

The wide smile that etches into his handsome face is heavenly.

"As much fun as being tied up sounds-"

"George!" I scold, quickly looking around to ensure nobody heard his perverted flirtations.

"Joking, joking ... I'd much rather it be you that's tied up-"

I try to push out of his grip but he simply loops both of his hands around my waist once more and pulls me in tighter. "Relax, I'm just winding you up."

Begrudgingly, I lace my hands around his neck once more and take in our surroundings, mulling over the idea.

Gently kissing my forehead, he resumes our off-beat swaying to the music. "To continue our previous and much more vanilla conversation," He scoffs playfully before briefly pausing, "I'd love to be tied down to you forever, Potter. I'm surprised you didn't know that already."