Tidal Wave [george weasley post war]

5. Tension

"I thought you said I shouldn't grieve down to the bottom of a bottle?" George bit back with one eyebrow raised high, though his hands betrayed him as he picked up the bottle of liquor and leaned over to pour more into her glass. Her hand was shaking, though, and George roughly gripped her wrist to stop the movement. Half of his long fingers wrapped around her wrist while the rest splayed out against the back of her hand. He said nothing else, not wanting to comment on the stability of her hands.

"Clever," Aurora laughed softly, her eyes falling onto his hand as it wrapped around her wrist, holding her hand steady. She was nervous. Why was she nervous? She had known George growing up, it wasn't like sitting beside him and sharing a drink was putting her in any type of danger. "Thank you." She told him, almost letting out a sigh as his fingers gently slipped against her skin, removing themselves from her hand now that her glass was full.

A few minutes had passed by. George had poured himself another glass as well, the bottle between them half empty by now. Aurora's eyes trained on the brooms above them, her lower lip being pulled into her mouth as she felt her heartbeat pounding rapidly against her ribcage. "I'm sorry for making that comment, you know." She started, turning to look over at George with a half-hearted smile. "I was mad at your comment about my magic...or lack thereof, I guess." She admitted to him as she lifted the glass to her lips and took a smaller sip. "I'm certainly not judging you for using alcohol as a coping mechanism."

George didn't respond. His eyes quickly turned to look at her before he looked back to the ground. He didn't care what she thought of him. He didn't care what anyone thought of him, really.

"I guess I like the burn a bit too much, too..." She whispered with a small laugh, shaking her head at herself before downing the rest of the glass. In all the excitement of spending the holidays with a real family, Aurora almost forgot what today was for her family. "My brother, Michael," She set the glass down, moving both hands beneath her thighs to keep them from shaking any more than they already were. "Today is-"She cleared her throat, "I'm sorry, today was his birthday. He would have been twenty-four." She kept her eyes up to the sky, focusing on the clouds instead of the brooms. Her stomach was in knots watching the game. "He died during the Battle of Hogwarts."

Her eyes closed for a moment, her head tilting back a bit and letting the dark tresses of her wavy hair fall behind her shoulder, almost hitting the ground beneath them. Ginny and the rest of the group must have been flying further out, away from the house, because all she could hear was silence. That and the small sounds of George breathing beside her.

George watched her eyes fall shut, taking this as an opportunity to turn a bit and study her face. Her body. He quickly finished his drink and set the glass down next to where she had just placed hers. As much as he would like, he couldn't be wasted for Christmas dinner. His Mum would never forgive him.

"I remember him." George told her, slowly moving his hands behind him as he leaned his head back, mimicking the way she had her body positioned. "He was the year above me and a bloody nasty chaser, if I'm not mistaken."

Aurora smiled softly at this. "Yes, he was on the quidditch team. Flying on that bloody broom was like a second nature to him. I could barely keep myself steady, even when I was on the ground, no matter how many lessons he gave me in secret." She giggled; her lower lip being pulled back into her mouth by her top teeth. "I don't like talking about him, though. I know you...I know you understand." Her eyes opened slowly, her head dropping to the right so she could look at him. To her surprise, he was already watching her. His eyes soft.

"Yeah, I do." He replied with a curt nod. Sitting up straight now, George crossed his legs and leaned his elbows on his thighs. "Fred- He, uh,"

"Don't." Aurora sat up herself, leaning over a bit and placing her hand on the back of George's bicep. "It's ok. You're not ready. And I think we've both had a bit too much firewhiskey." A soft laugh escaped her lips as she quickly covered her mouth afterwards. She got much more self-conscious when she had alcohol in her system. She felt like her laugh was embarrassing. George seemed to be trying to be friendly, but she knew that she couldn't push him too much. Aurora could see a tear quickly make it's escape from his eye, trickling down his cheek before becoming hidden in the forest of a beard on his face.

Without another word, Aurora reached up and gently swiped her thumb against his cheek. "Your Mum will have my head if she finds out I've gone and made her son cry." She joked, a small smile on her lips as she looked over her shoulder to see everyone start to land, putting the brooms back into the shed. "Thanks for the drink, George. I'll see you at dinner." And with that, she was pushing herself up and walking over to Ginny and Hermione.

"You alright there, brother?" Bill had his hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans as he looked down at George. With the sun shining brightly down upon them, the large scars across the one side of Bill's face almost looked like they were glistening in the sunlight. They had faded tremendously since the attack, and George knew his brother almost forgot that they were even there now.

"Yes, Bill, I'm alright." George moved to push himself up and collect the glasses and bottle before nodding a thanks to Bill for picking up the blanket, shaking it out and then folding it up neatly.

"You know I'm beginning to think I'm not the only one who is happy that you came for Christmas." A wide smirk found its home on Bill's face as his elbow gently nudged his brother. His head shook a bit as he focused in on their sister and her best friend.

George rolled his eyes, a small grunt escaping from his lip as he walked into the house. He refused to follow Bill's line of sight and look at Aurora. He was not going to entertain the idea of any kind of feelings between himself and his sister's friend. Sexual tension...maybe. That's all that it would be. All that it could be.