Before the Dawn | George Weasley

69

The moment the sun crept over the horizon, bleeding warmth into the cold black sky, I slipped out of bed and dressed, grabbing my wand and tip-toeing through the silent house.

"Going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?" A quiet voice made me start, spinning around with my wand drawn.

George sat in one of the armchairs in the parlour, watching me with a stony expression.

"What are you doing awake?" I asked softly, lowering my wand with a shaky hand.

"Never went to sleep."

"Me either," I admitted, for some reason unable to look him in the eye just then.

"You seem awfully eager to go back to a place that almost killed you," he said flatly.

I crossed my arms over my chest, irked by the derision in his voice. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

"No, I don't." George stood, moving to stand in front of me. "Which is why I can't understand why you keep putting yourself in more and more dangerous situations. It's like you don't even want to make it through this."

"This is war, George," I snapped. "It's all dangerous."

"Just..." He shifted. "Just stay here this time. Sit this one out. Someone else can find out about the horcruxes."

"You don't think I can do it?" I asked, eyebrows shooting up. 

"What? No. That's not—" He let out a short huff. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what?" I glanced over my shoulder at the front door, itching to leave. 

"You're going to get yourself killed!" George retorted. 

"So you don't think I can do it," I said flatly.

"Merlin, Mackie, you aren't listening to me!"

"Yes, I am! You don't think I can find out about the horcruxes without blowing my cover. But you're wrong," I hissed. "I've been doing this for two years now, George, and I've gotten rather good at it. Every moment I've spent with them has enabled me to do what the Order now needs me to do, and I intend to see it out."

"If you're so good at playing Death Eater, then why did You-Know-Who nearly torture you to death?"

I recoiled. "That—that was different. It wasn't—You weren't there, you wouldn't understand."

"By all means, please explain it, then." He gritted his teeth. 

I held his gaze stubbornly, seeing the challenge on my face mirrored in his own expression, and thought to myself that I might have preferred it when he wasn't speaking to me.

I hated absolutely everything about the tension between us— the angry glint in his eyes, the unfamiliar coldness that I never once dreamed I'd receive from him, even after everything that had happened in the past two years.

Any tiny bit of progress we'd made yesterday was very clearly gone, his resentments and ill feelings towards me having returned with the rising run. Something clicked in my mind, then, and in that moment I fully understood what had happened.

In the last two years I'd caused him too much pain. I'd put too much stress on his family. His heart had changed. Or maybe he'd finally realised that I was no longer the girl he'd first fallen in love with, and would never be again. Or maybe he'd just outgrown me.

No matter what it was, though, I was certain of one thing—he didn't love me anymore.

My eyes filled with tears, and I opened my mouth to say something but couldn't find the words. I swallowed shakily, blinking to clear my eyes, and looked away.