¨*The Boy Who Returned*¨

Part 1, The funeral.

Y/n felt the burning tears run down her face as the casket was lowered into the ground. She felt the thorns of the white rose cut into her hands as she squeezed the flower's neck. She heard someone talking to her but she couldn't hear them. The sudden warmth on her shoulder insinuated that someone had put their hand there but she couldn't feel anything. She took a step forward and but the bloody rose on the dirt. Y/n whispered "I'll never be like you". She turned around and walked to stand further back. As she was walking she saw the crushed faces of mr and mrs Weasley. It broke her heart to see them like this. She sat down on one of the chairs, she noticed her hand bleeding but didn't care. She let the blood run out of her, hoping that the pain would go with it.

Everybody sat down to eat, talking about memories they shared with Fred. Small sobs between every fourth word. Y/n sat down with Harry and Hermoine at a table in the back. She could tell they were trying to communicate with her, but she didn't have the energy to try to concentrate on the words flowing out of their mouths. It all felt like a bubble and the words were just air around it. But what Y/n didn't know was that the bubble was about to pop. And it would explode, all the emotions would be exposed. But of course, Y/n didn't know about that yet.

Then all of a sudden Angelina stood up, Y/n had nothing against her. She actually liked her, so she thought she'd try to listen. Angelina cleared her throat and said "Hello, my name is Angelina Johnson. I went to Hogwarts with Fred and he was a dear friend of mine. But there was a thing I didn't get to tell him" everybody sat quietly and even Y/n was sitting tightly to know what she was talking about. "-well I didn't get to tell him that I am in love with him". Everybody turned to Y/n. She felt the rage rise. She stood up, knocking the chair she was sitting on over. Y/n's blood was boiling, she could feel everybody's eyes on her, but the only person she could think about was Angelina. You might think that this is where the bubble popped, but no. This was only a minor one compared to what' coming. Y/n rushed out of the room knocking multiple chairs over on her way out. She stood outside of the building looking for a cigarette in her purse when George came outside. "You need fire?" George asked and reached out a lighter to her. She nodded. He lit the cigarette for her and she could feel the guilt pour over her, she had been avoiding him for weeks after Fred's death. Every time she looked at him she saw Fred, she was protecting herself and she now understood that she was being selfish. George and Y/n were the closest to him and they only had eachother now.

They stood quietly for a few moments. She threw the cigarette on the ground to put it out when George started speaking. "I know this has been hard on you, it's been that on me too. But he would want us to keep being friends, I mean, he wouldn't want to see us like this so we really should talk-". He became silent when Y/n had thrown her arms around him. "I've missed you" he said. She felt another tear run down her face. She knew that she was holding George in her arms, but why did it feel like Fred? Why did everything remind her of Fred? Why did it feel like he was still there? Y/n thought to herself "H-he, he is dead! And he's not coming back!". She pulled out of the hug to check if it really was George she was hugging. George looked back at her when she carefully examined every crevasse of his face. Y/n leaned closer, she saw Fred flash before her eyes. Was this him? She came back to reality and her lips were pressed against George's. "Fuck" Y/n let out. She had kissed him while thinking about Fred. George was obviously very confused and said "Uhm, well shit-". But he didn't manage to get another word out before Y/n had said "Accio broom". She looked him in the eyes, her's full of tears. She flew up in the air and into the beautiful purple sunset. George thought about following after her but knew what an amazing quidditch player she was and knew that he'd never catch up. He remembered when the three of them had made competitions of who could fly the fastest. Y/n had always won.