Yellow (George Weasley)

59 - Saint Like

The dripping of the kitchen faucet seemed to accentuate every waiting second, slow and torturous. Time was agonizing in this moment. Mrs. Weasley had tried her best to keep things light, but now the two of us were sat at the kitchen table in silence. Cups of once warm tea clutched between our fingers. My eyes traced the slight pattern that had rippled in the surface from the added milk. The lightly nibbled on Ginger Newt wasn't much more entertaining, but it had reminded me of a particular visit to Professor McGonagall's office. She had offered them to Fred, George, and I after we were caught trying to replace Snape's seat at the High Table with a toilet seat our second year.

"Not the most ideal flying conditions." Ginny interrupted the silence from where she was perched on the counter, a knee pulled up to her chest. As if on cue, a loud roll of thunder vibrated the window panes.

"Come sit down, Ginny. The Portkeys aren't expected back for another half hour. It'll go by forever if you just sit there and stare out at the lawn." Mrs. Weasley urged her daughter. "Why don't the two of you play a game."

She stood up, heading over to the kitchen sink. Her hands furiously worked on the dishes. I rarely ever saw her cleaning her dishes without the aid of magic. I settled myself onto the floor in front of the coffee table. "She's trying to keep her mind busy any way she can." Ginny laughed lightly before sitting cross legged across from me.

I nodded with a smile as she pulled out a game of Wizard's Chess. I had hoped that a game with someone as competitive as Ginny would keep me distracted, but my mind being elsewhere was quite a disadvantage. Ginny's Queen had smashed into my King in no time at all. I glanced down at my watch as the piece triumphantly dragged my ruler off the board. Only five minutes until Ron and Tonks would be back. Ginny must've been able to read my facial expressions as she quickly put the game away, tucking it into a cabinet before rushing to join me and Mrs. Weasley at the kitchen door.

"Any minute now." I muttered, my eyes tracing every flick of the second hand on my watch.

A bright blue light glowed across the lawn and the three of us quickly opened the door to receive the first two back—but something wasn't right. When the light cleared, nothing but a rusty oil tin appeared in it's place. My heart dropped to my stomach and I looked panic-stricken to Mrs. Weasley.

She opened her mouth before closing it again. The last thing I expected to escape was a light laugh. "I told Moody they set the Portkeys too early! I'm sure they missed it." She dismissed it with a wave of her hand and walked back into the house. Her tense shoulders and pale face spoke a different story.

Ginny exchanged a concerned look with me, neither of us wanting to speak on the situation. I'm sure she's feeling as sick to her stomach as I am. We decided to sit on one of the old wooden benches outside the house. Mrs. Weasley seemed as though she may have needed a minute at the potential reasoning behind her son's Portkey not arriving.

"Dad and Fred should be next." Ginny muttered after looking up from her own watch. Both of us stood as yet another bright blue light shone through the night, Mrs. Weasley ran out once again to join us. Though when it cleared, nothing but an ancient sneaker sat on the grass. I stared at it, completely oblivious to what was being said by the Weasley women. A second missed Portkey. Fred, Ron, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley were unaccounted for. My stomach did another lurch, this time so aggressive that I worried those two bites of Ginger Newt would make an appearance.

Before I had even walked away from the smelly, old shoe, another bright light shone just to my left. This time two bodies landed along with a silver and black hairbrush.

"Harry! Hagrid!" Mrs. Weasley ran towards the two. "What happened? Where are the others!?"

"What d'you mean? Is no one else back?" Harry's eyes widened, though the pale look of our faces must've been answer enough for him. "The Death Eaters were waiting for us. We were surrounded the minute we took off—they knew it was tonight—"