Harry Potter - Fanfiction

Year 7 - Bill & Fleur

The shock of losing Mad-Eye hangs over the house in the days to follow; everyone, always sub-consciously peering over at the back door, expecting him to stump through the door like the other Order members, who pass in and out to relay news.

That night they went to fetch Harry, I spent it alone; I did not sneak into the twins' bedroom nor do I speak to anyone the next day. I spend most of my time in the garden, leaning against the back of their shed, sketching the very Mad-Eye Moody I wasn't very fond of, however, it was something I wanted to do for everyone in the Order, so they could always have that extra piece of him.

The twins know to keep their distance and leave me be, and it isn't because I'm upset with them or anyone in the house. My thoughts are just over-crowding my mind and I'm needing an outlet.

The death of Mad-Eye has brought more things into perspective; Draco is still in danger while he foolishly, but honorably decides to make sure his parents don't do something stupid.

And this war isn't going to go away by itself, and it's extremely likely that we're going to lose more people we care about...

By the afternoon, after completing various sketches of Mad-Eye, I switch to a collage of everyone I care about - Hermione, our parents, Fred, George, Draco, Tracey, and even Sirius. We're all sitting down on a cliffs edge, staring at a sunset, laughing along to whatever joke the twins have said.

"Mum sent me to check up on you," a voice quietly speaks from above.

Looking up to see George's caring and lovable face. I was so engulfed in my sketch that I didn't even hear him approach.

I half-heartedly smile back up at him. "Getting there," I answer as he takes a seat next to me.

George still has the bandage around his head, closing up the area where his missing ear is. Mrs. Weasley practically healed it to the point where it doesn't need to be bandaged, yet George hasn't taken it off yet; I have a feeling he's struggling to come to terms with it.

"I tried to reassure her you just need some space, time to get out of your own head, but she insisted because she hasn't heard or seen you all day," he explains.

"It's okay, I know your Mum worries about everyone, and it isn't making things easier with the wedding approaching," I reply.

George peers down at my sketch. "Do you miss him?"

Knowing that he probably is referring to Sirius, I nod somberly.

"I know you two were quite close, if you weren't with us, you were always hanging out with Sirius by Buckbeak or chatting away at the kitchen table with him."

"He wrote me a letter that Harry gave to me after he died," I explain, setting my sketchbook aside. "He told me he saw me as his daughter..."

George says nothing further, instead he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a hug.

"That's why I kissed you, I said it that night and I'll say it again, I didn't want to die knowing that I never felt your lips against mine," he says shyly.

His brashness makes my own cheeks heat up as we look into each other's eyes.

I slowly bring my hand up to the bandaged area, George averts his eyes as though he's almost ashamed of it.

"It's still strange to know it isn't there," he says softly, still not meeting my gaze.

"Is that why you haven't taken it off yet?" I ask.

He nods quietly.

"Can I see?" I ask cautiously.

There's a pause as he considers this. "I – Yeah..." He nods again. "You can."