The Ravenclaw and The Grim

The Burrow

"You know, I always thought I'd be a lot more nervous bringing my first girlfriend home," George said as the burrow came into view. "As I'm sure you've pieced together we didn't have a lot of money growing up. As a result, home, although home, was always a bit... Well, let's just say it's not what most other wizarding kids are used to."

"Are you nervous now?"

A playful smirk teased at the corners of George's lips. Living with someone, told you a lot about a person and what they valued. He thought of how the only jewelry she owned was the locket he had given her. When Fred had once asked her why when she did the shopping, the veggies were often oddly shaped and fruit bruised. How Lyra blushing madly and not looking either of them in the eye had said she picked them because she didn't think anyone else would. He thought of her favorite sweaters. Both of which his mother had made. Or that her favorite books were not the hardcover perfect condition ones that Fred had given her for Christmas, but instead two softcover muggle books were given to her by her father.

Lyra brought his hand to her lips. Gently kissing his knuckles and bringing him back to reality. "George? You still in there?"

His smirk grew. "No, I'm not nervous."

"Good." She said, and then a small smile with just a bit of mischief lit up her face. "Do you want to know a sort of secret of mine?"

"Absolutely I do."

"I've got a bit of a knack at knowing what people's homes look like... If I'm honest I've already seen the burrow, at least pieces of it."

George wasn't surprised by this. How many times now had memories flown between the two of them? "Tell me about the burrow. " 

"You want me to tell you about your own childhood home?" she teased.

"Let's see how close you get." 

"you're just stalling aren't you?" Lyra asked looking at the oddly stacked home in the distance. 

"Not true, it's good practice for you." 

she chuckled and closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh air of the countryside. "It's warm, hot in the summers, and there isn't a lot of room but that's okay because there's always enough. There are always extra chairs at the table, and your Mum cooks as if she's expecting guests all of the time. It wouldn't surprise me if she always has. At least since your older brothers left the house." 

This did catch George by surprise, and Lyra opened her eyes at the abrupt shift of his emotions. 

"Did I freak you out? Do you want me to stop?" he could feel the worry that he saw in her eyes.

"No, you just surprised me, that's not something I ever recall noticing." 

Lyra blushed, and she let go of his hand wrapping her arms around herself. "S-sorry. Memories are kind of a tricky thing. It's one of the reasons I don't like doing it, its so invasive."

 George wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him."Yeah but, you had permission. I told you to try and see it." 

She shook her head. "Yeah but what about the parts of your mind you don't have conscious access to? Memories aren't facts. They can be changed, remembered differently. When you look back at something it's through the eyes of how you feel about it. When I look at them it's not through your eyes, it's as a third party. How can you give permission to let me see something, when you may not even know it exists."

He pulled her closer to him and tried to chase away the darkness that began to cloud her heart. "Hey now, enough of that. Lyra I'm all yours. You're not going to freak me out or chase me away, and if I give you permission to go stomping about my head then you don't get to beat yourself up when you do just that."