Before the Dawn | George Weasley

61

"I really can't stay, I—"

"Allow yourself a day off, dear." Molly pleaded with me. "It's only one more day. We'll have protections from the Ministry, as well as guards to warn us if anything goes awry. You'll be quite safe here."

I hadn't even meant to spend the one night at the Burrow, but had fallen asleep with my head resting against the side of the sofa where George lay, waking up to find him having been moved and my neck rather sore.

"Molly—"

"We need someone to bake the wedding cake, and I've never been very good at baking," she mused.

I gave a wry smile, fully aware that there were several catering services that could supply a cake far superior to anything I could conjure up.

But I just sighed. "How can I argue with that?"

She clapped her hands together, delighted. "It's decided, then! You can share Ginny's room.  She won't mind, since she's already got Hermione in there."

I hadn't seen or heard from Hermione since she and I had nearly hexed one another the night before. I couldn't imagine she'd be thrilled to share such close quarters with me, not after I'd been so fully prepared to fight her.

"I haven't anything to wear," I said, realising it was true.

"I'm sure you girls can figure something out." She took my hands in hers and gave them a squeeze.

I felt my heart sink as I climbed the stairs, and I found myself wishing I hadn't agreed to stay. Nobody except Molly really wanted me at this wedding, anyway.

I paused outside Ginny's door, my hand fishing instinctively into my cloak for my flask. I tilted my head back to get the very last drops of whatever was inside—it was warm, and flat, and didn't help my nerves whatsoever—then knocked softly on Ginny's door. The door creaked open, revealing Ginny and Hermione. They were sitting on their respective beds, their conversation coming to a dead halt as I entered.

Unable to meet Hermione's eyes, I looked to Ginny instead. "Your mum wants me to stay for the wedding."

"I knew she would," said Ginny simply. "You'll be staying in here with us, then?"

"If that's alright with you."

"It's alright with me." Ginny glanced at Hermione. "Is it alright with you, Hermione?"

I forced myself to look at the other girl, feeling my heart skip a beat at her stony expression.

"I suppose it's alright," she said at last.

"Great." I looked back at Ginny, feeling rather exhausted by this conversation so far. I decided I would ask about a dress for the wedding later, and retreated.

I sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace back downstairs, staring into the flames and trying not to think about how George had lay in that very spot the night before, bleeding. He'd been since relocated to his and Fred's old bedroom upstairs, and had yet to show his face or speak to me.

How one could feel so lonely in a house full of people was a mystery to me, yet here I was, feeling more alone than ever.

* * * * * *

Early the next morning, I tied an apron around my waist to protect Ginny's loaned dress—I'd had to request a long-sleeved dress for obvious reasons, and the only one she had was a navy-blue velvet material—from any potential flour explosion, tied my hair up, and set to work.