Dusk Till Dawn: A Fred And George Story

August 15, 1999

I woke up disoriented and cold. George was gone. I yawned and stretched, and then I saw the time. It was eight o'clock! I was late for work!

I hurriedly showered, dressed, did my hair in a bun, and walked into the kitchen for a quick breakfast.

George was still sitting at the table, reading the day's edition of the Daily Prophet.

"George!" I yelled. "Why didn't you wake me up? What are you doing?"

He set down the paper and walked over to the stove. "I wanted you to get all the sleep you needed after last night. And, it's Sunday. No work today." He turned around holding a plate of hotcakes and set them on the counter in front of me. "I made breakfast," he said.

I nodded graciously and sat down to eat and read the paper. Rita was right; our story; our story had made the front page with the headline, "Owners of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Weary After Warding-Off Weak Zeke Zonko." There was a moving picture of George and I standing side-by-side, smiling tiredly. I read the article. Most of it was stuff I already knew, but the ending sentence made me catch my breath:

Aurors from the Ministry have ensured that the young couple does not have an experience such as this again.

I looked up at George.

Just then, I heard tapping on glass. I got up and looked out at Diagon Alley through the window. Angelina Johnson was standing at the door of the shop, knocking. "George, someone's here for you."

I sat back down and continued eating as he went to answer the door.

"What are you doing here?" I heard George say, stepping outside.

"You're with Izzy now, huh?"

"No, I'm not actually."

"Then why did it say so in the paper?"

"Because Rita Skeeter write it, Angelina."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Is that seriously the only reason you came? Not to check that I'm alright, or that Isabella's alright?"

Silence.

"I can't believe this. Goodbye, Angelina." I heard the door shut. I kept eating the hotcakes and thinking about all the problems I continued to cause.

"Ugh!" George exclaimed when he returned. "I can't stand that!" He put his hands on the back of his head and walked around in frustration. "I do not understand how I ever let her take advantage of me."

I watched him. His pacing stopped eventually, and he turned to face me, his arms slowly falling back to his sides. I looked at him softly from afar, and he looked at me softly in return, and I had a very sudden burst of adoration for the man. It filled my whole being.

I looked down and swallowed. I got up from my chair. "Thanks for the cakes, George." I washed my dish and left the room.