Us ; George Weasley

Forty-three

Just to clear up any confusion from the last chapter. Daphne didn't watch the whole fight. She left the corridor right after Allie walked in on them.

-

"It doesn't look like your eye received any permanent damage." Madam Pomfrey explained after she took a look at my eye. "You will have a black eye for a while. It's not exactly light bruising so I don't have anything that can make it fade."

"So— I just have to walk around with a black eye for a long time?"

Well,  my eye wasn't exactly black. It was purple all the way around, all the way up to my eyebrow and all the way out to my cheekbone which was swollen.

"It doesn't seem like the blood has gathered in your muscle which is good. That could mess with your ability to move. The blood has gathered underneath a few layers of your skin. In a day or two, the bruising will turn either black or blue, maybe a mixture of both. In about five to ten days, it should turn green or maybe yellow which is a sign of healing — that it's starting to fade. In ten to fourteen days, it should start to turn brown and as the colour gets lighter for each day, suddenly it'll be gone. Don't worry, Miss Silverberry. It'll be gone before you notice."

I sighed and brought a hand up to my eye, but flinched at the pain.

"Do you mind telling me how it happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked. I looked up at him, then looked at George who stood up, arms folded over his chest, and then I looked down at the bed I was sitting on.

"Are you gonna tell her or shall I?" George asked. Madam Pomfrey looked at him.

"What happened there?" She asked and pointed to his hands. I looked at them and noticed they were bruised and bleeding. Madam Pomfrey took a look at me, then looked between us as if she was hinting something.

"Oh... no!" I hurried to say. "George didn't hit me. No, he would never hit me. Cameron Ironwood did. It's the third time."

George frowned when he realised that Madam Pomfrey thought he was the one who had hurt me.

"I'll have to report that to the headmaster." She told us and looked at George. "I'll have to report you too if I find that the boy's face is bruised."

"I punched him." George said. "You don't have to look into it. I'll gladly take the responsibility for that. He deserved it."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and mumbled something about boys as she walked out of the hospital wrong.

"You punched Cameron?" I asked and reached for George's right hand to study his bleeding knuckles.

"I saw him punch you." He said. "I don't— I didn't realise how angry that would make me, but it did. I don't think I've ever been quite as angry as when I witnessed that."

I hummed as I pulled out my wand, but my heart dropped when I noticed it was broken in half.

"No." I muttered to myself, pouting slightly. I sighed, then looked up at George who gently took the wand from me. "Think it can be fixed?"

"Unfortunately not." George breathed. "I'm pretty sure it's gonna need replacing."

He put the wand down on the small nightstand next to the bed, before he joined me. I sighed deeply, wrapping my arms around his back as I laid my head against his shoulder.

He wrapped his own arms around my shoulders and then I just broke into tears while hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

George's arms tightened around me but I quickly tried to gather myself and kept apologising against his skin.

"No, no... hey." He whispered. "Don't apologise. Why're you apologising for crying? Please don't apologise to me."

"I don't cry." I sobbed against his neck. "I n-never cry. That's not— i-it's not me."

George shushed me gently running a hand up and down my back in a soothing motion.

"There is no shame in crying." He whispered. "And right now you have every reason to be upset."

I felt so comfortable in his arms. Even though I was crying and feeling like absolute shit, he made me feel so comfortable and safe.

"It's not me." I whispered again into his neck before I pulled back. "It hurts to cry."

The tears were running over the swollen and purple place around my eye, making it sting.

"It looks like shit, doesn't it?" I asked. "I don't have a mirror so I can't— I can't see it."

"It doesn't look that bad." He tried to calm my nerves before he reached into his pocket and pulled out my pocket knife. "Here. You probably want it back."

I took it from his hand and popped it open, seeing how the sharp side had blood on it.

"Did you—"

"Oh, no I didn't." George shook his head. "The bastard snatched it from me and cut his own arm. He's not very smart. He's going to say I was the one who cut him but he made it look like self harm."

What in the...

"I can't—" I took a deep breath but then I started crying again, though this time it was the silent kind of crying. "... if I had never started dating him, I wouldn't be sitting here with a black eye right now. He wouldn't have hit me all those three times."

"It's not like you're capable of predicting the future." George said as I closed my knife. He reached for my hand and I let him hold it, intertwining our fingers as he sat with them in his lap. "Don't be so harsh on yourself, angel."

I sobbed softly.

"How can I not? This is all because I couldn't see the red flags. I should've dumbed him as soon as he started taking control over the things I eat, the way my body looks." I said. "But I didn't and he's probably not gonna leave me alone. He just— doesn't care how much I threaten him or how much anyone threatens him. He keeps going and it's starting to feel like an obsession."

George stroke my hand comfortable, looking at me with a soft expression as he listened to me talk.

"When I entered the corridor, he had just finished having sex with Daphne Greengrass. He was closing his trousers. The first thing he did was call out my name. He just had sex with a minor and then for some reason gets all curious and interested in my presence."

"He was having sex with Greengrass?"

I hummed.

"He's disgusting. Not only is she fourteen years old but they're basically related. It's distant but if they're both a part of the sacred twenty-eight which both of their families are, then they're related and that... it was basically incest."

George made a face of pure disgust.

"I still can't believe Cameron has Parkinson blood." He told me. "I'm related to him."

I raised my eyebrows and then dropped them as I nodded. I turned my body towards him and held out a hand.

"Can I borrow your wand?" I asked. George looked at me with a curious look as he reached into the wand case on his jeans and pulled out his wand, handing it over. I used the hand in his to move his right hand closer to me, letting our fingers untangle before taking a grip on his hand. "Ferula."

Bandages shot out of my wand and wrapped tightly around his hand, both soothing the bruises but also the pain.

"How uh— I didn't see what happened with Cameron." I said and looked at my boyfriends face. "I mean, I was there obviously, but he hit me and I was— I don't know why but I was shocked. I should've seen it coming. I just— he cut himself? While I was there?"

"Yeah." George breathed. "He would've bled out if Fred didn't use ferula on him."

I pouted.

"Too bad. Should've let him bleed out."