The Years Between || G.W

2003- George's POV

***A/N*** Last chapter of part one guys! Super short one but I can't wait to start the next part of this story! I have a lot of cute things planned and of course some drama to keep it interesting! I have today and tomorrow off of work so there should be another chapter either really late tonight or a couple of chapters tomorrow! toodles! xx

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 "George! We're leaving now!" Mum shouts from downstairs.

I roll over in bed and stare up at the ceiling, I start to watch an ant that is making its way across the room.

"George!" Mum screams again.

I roll out of bed, pull on a pair of sweatpants that are sitting on my floor and I head downstairs.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the hallway and flinch back just a bit. I've been trying you know? Trying to make myself look less like him. Every day I try something different. Right now I've got one of the best beards that I've had in my life. Minus that one time when we were idiots trying to get in the Triwizard tournament of course, and my hair is dark brown. I hate the colour but Mum prefers it to the green that I had last week so I haven't bothered to change it yet.

"What?" I grumble as my feet hit the bottom stair and I rub the sleep out of my eye.

Dad is standing in the doorway of the kitchen looking very unimpressed with me, "We're leaving. You're not coming right?"

"To watch my sister-in-law's vagina completely rip open and a baby slide out of it?" I say and Dad makes a face, "I'll pass."

"Don't say it like that Georgie," Mum says. She comes out of the kitchen with about five bags in her hands. She hands them to Dad and he takes them outside, "Giving birth is a beautiful thing and Fleur's parents aren't able to come to England for it so your Dad and I are going."

"Since when do you care about Fleur enough to go see her give birth?" I ask her as I go into the kitchen to get myself a drink.

"Since forever!" Mum exclaims.

"You didn't go help out when Victoire was born," I lean to the side so I can see her through the doorway, "Or did you forget that she is also your granddaughter?"

"George Fabian Weasley!" Mum snaps.

I roll my eyes, "Yes, yes, I know. Blah, blah, I love her, blah blah. I get it."

I look at Mum and she looks at me in this weird sort of battle for power, "You're going to be late," I say to her before making a 'shoo' gesture towards the door, "Go."

"We'll be back in a week," Mum says.

"Won't be long enough."

"Please take care of the house."

I nod and take a drink from the juice/vodka mix I made last night, "I'll burn it down. Got it."

"George..." Mum's tired of me now. Seems to be the theme as of late. The whole few sentences before she gets tired or annoyed and just wants me to shut up and walk away from her.

"Okay, okay, I won't burn the house down. Go, please."

Mum comes over and forces me to bend over a little so she can kiss me on the cheek, "Take care of yourself."

"Not very good at that am I?"

"And have a shower sometime this week, please. Do laundry so you have something clean to wear. Maybe shave your face..."

"Godric Mum, what? You think the queen is going to be stopping by this week or summat?"

Mum just shrugs and Dad calls for her to come outside so they can go.

"Be good!" Mum calls to me before she heads outside closing the door behind her.

Nearly a week later and the house is destroyed. But the good thing is I didn't set it on fire. At least not yet.

The entire downstairs of the Burrow is covered in essentially my filth but I stopped caring after like the first eight hours of me being here alone. They come back tomorrow so it's gotten to the point where the entire house is starting to smell just a bit and I really have to do my laundry.

I stumble from the living room into the kitchen and pull open the fridge for the fifth time in the last hour. I sort through some half-empty jars of jelly and pull out another bottle of muggle beer. It's not great, but it's cheaper than the wizard stuff and it's easier to get down into town right now then it is to get to Diagon Alley.

"Fuuuuck," I groan to myself as I pop the top off the bottle with my ring. It's not the promise ring that I got for Violet and I anymore. I took that off and hid it deep in my sock drawer along with the one she gave back to me. I wore it for much longer than I should have, hell I should have tossed it in the Black Lake when Violet gave hers back to me all those bloody years ago. Would have saved me a lot of pain and straight-out misery.

There's nothing to do here but think when there's no one else home. And thinking hasn't really gone my way as of late. All I've been doing, all I can do really, is think of what would have happened if Fred didn't die. Or what I could have done instead after he died so I would still have the woman I love and the friends who I adore.

It's been eating at my brain for weeks, months, ever since my birthday. It's October now so that means it's been what? Six months of utter bullshit worming its way through my brain and turning it into cottage cheese?

"Ah shit," I trip over a pile of dirty clothes and spill beer all over myself. Putting the bottle down on the side table by the sofa, I pull my gross shirt off and toss it somewhere else in the room. I take a shirt from the back of the sofa and pull it over my head before flopping over on the cushions and picking up my beer again.

This house sucks. I hate it here. Everyone who lives here, Mum, Dad, Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione sometimes, they're all watching me out of the corner of their eyes waiting for me to either drop dead at their feet or I dunno, do something worse.

What's worth than death you ask? According to Mum, it's being seen by muggles, and according to Hermione it's being expelled. And Ronald wonders why those two get along so well.

I kick my feet up onto the coffee table and lean back into the sofa, getting comfortable for a long hard day of totally destroying my liver.

I can hear a car pulling up the driveway and I hope to Godric that whoever it is hasn't got a clue who I am and doesn't actually need me to do anything.

Then I hear the door close and I know that I'm going to have to talk to someone.

"Fuck," I grumble under my breath before chugging my entire beer. I finish it and put it on the coffee table along with my other empties just as there's a knock at the door.

I groan and force myself to get up off the sofa. I hit my knee against the chair in the corner, "Fucking shit," I cuss under my breath, "Comin'... I'm comin'..." I groan.

I twist the doorknob and pull it open and my heart falls to the pit of my stomach. Standing in front of me is Violet. The love of my life. The best thing that has ever happened to me. And somehow, she's even more beautiful than I remember her to be.

It's like the world stopped spinning for the first time in years, the nagging voice in the back of my head has finally shut up. She's standing here, looking up at me, her face is... fuck.

"George?" she breathes out. I forgot how bloody fantastic my name sounds on those perfect lips of hers.

"Violet...?"