More Than Heart Could Desire 《 A George Weasley Love Story 》

Chapter#15 Christmas

ANNA'S POV:

The next morning, I woke with a start. The clock on my bedside table glowed 5:25 a.m. I had only managed to fall into a restless doze around two, but it hardly counted as sleep. My mind had been trapped all night in the same impossible tug-of-war, should I go to the Burrow… or keep ignoring George’s owls?

Both of his letters were still clutched in my hand, crumpled from being opened and read a hundred times. Yet even after memorizing every word, every curve of his handwriting, I still couldn’t find my answer.

I dragged myself to the bathroom, let the warm water calm my trembling nerves, and then wandered downstairs. The house was silent, Mum, Dad, and Chocolate still sound asleep. I slipped quietly into Mum’s room, borrowed her wand, and pointed it at the cold fireplace.

Incendio.

A burst of red ignited instantly, flames roaring to life. I sank into the armchair nearest to it, the heat touching my skin but doing nothing to thaw the heaviness inside me. A clean parchment lay on my lap, but all I managed to write at the top was:

Dear Georgie,

…And nothing more. I held the quill, but my mind was painfully blank.

Half of my heart wanted to run to the Burrow, to spend Christmas wrapped in the warmth of the Weasley home, with George. But another part of me… the frightened part… whispered that going meant stepping into the tangle between him and Darla Carson. And that thought alone froze my hand every time I tried to write.

As dawn slowly spread across the horizon, I stepped into the backyard to water the plants, hoping the fresh morning air would settle my spiraling thoughts. The sunlight spilled over me like a gentle embrace, warm and grounding.

I filled the watering can, and after a few minutes, an unexpected sound broke through the quiet:
Hoot.
I looked up. An unfamiliar owl swooped down, landing right on the bushes in front of me. A letter dangled from its beak.
My stomach tightened.

I took the letter and turned it over, to see George's name.
I sighed, bracing myself, and opened it.

Dearest Anna,
                       We’re boarding the Hogwarts Express in a few hours and will be home by evening. I’m still waiting for your owl.
I showed Freddie your letter—he’s furious and blames me entirely.
Please spend Christmas with me at the Burrow. Don’t make me wait for the break to end before I can see you again.
I miss you...So much.

With love,
George Weasley

"Oh, Georgie…", the words escaped my lips in a whisper, my throat tightening.
"I miss you too… so much".

But the ache didn’t end there.

Within minutes, another owl arrived.
And then I spotted Errol, wobbling through the sky like a half-broken broomstick.

Five letters. Five messages, written differently but saying the same thing.

He missed me—desperately.

Guilt twisted inside me until it hurt. I regretted sending him that awful owl last night. Because now… I didn’t know how to face him.

I gathered treats for the tired owls, murmuring, "Oh, Errol… you poor thing. I’ve troubled you too, buddy".
They rested on the table for a short while and eventually flew away again.

When I turned back toward the sitting room, Mum stood there, my parchment and George’s letters in her hands.

"Good morning, honey", she greeted with a gentle smile.