Waldosia/// George Weasley

Chapter 25

George knew this feeling. He knew this feeling better than anything he had ever experienced before. One where the air around him goes cold and an eerie shutter creeps down his spine. Almost like laughter. Cruel and mocking laughter. The type the world uses to remind George just how much it's taken from him. And all he could do was wait and watch. Wait for something to change and watch how it burned down his entire life. And that's exactly how he felt as Angelina guided him up the stairs and into his flat.

She sat down on the couch, her hands stoically placed on her lap.

"Ang," George called out, a soft cry whispering into the silence, "What's going on?"

"I'm leaving," her voice came out low and her eyes never met his.

"For quidditch again?" George asked, and Angelina nodded slowly in response before the boy started speaking again, "For how long?"

The room remained too silent for too long, hesitation buzzing on both of their tongues.

"Does it matter?" Angelina eventually broke the silence, soft and quiet as if she were whispering her deepest secrets to the world. "You don't need me."

George heard it before he saw it, the world laughing at him. It was loud, obnoxious, banging around his head and pulling on his most meaningful memories, yet came out in the form of 4 whispered words: You don't need me.

"Not anymore."

And then he saw it. Angelina looked up at him, and when her eyes met his he watched the entire world burst into flames right before his eyes. The only thing left to do was wait until it swallowed him whole.

It was too familiar for him, the vulnerability, the sadness, the surrender in her expression. Memories from the last time he saw it rushed through his head. Fred lying cold on the floor, a smile still latched onto his lips. And Angelina hovering over him speechless, that very same expression locked onto his lifeless body. The one she was staring at him with now.

An alarm blared through his mind, reminding him that without Angelina, he had nothing. No more skin that Fred had touched, no more smiles Fred had seen, no more people that Fred had given his everything to.

George rushed over to Angelina and shook his head, "Of course I need you, Ang. That bollocks, don't say that."

His hands were shaking now. Fred was in his mind, taunting him, teasing him, mocking him for how foolish he was for thinking he could ever hold onto something that wasn't his.

"You'll come back, like you always do," he quickly responded, his hands taking hold of hers as he tried to convince both of them of the words he was saying, "And we'll do life together, like we always do. Like we always have."

"And her?" Her question whispered in his ears. And for a moment he heard laughter, but not from the world this time, not from Fred. A genuine one, a real one. Clover.

When he didn't respond, she let out a sad breath, "I can't keep doing this George."

George wanted to run away from all of this. He wanted to run and run and run until his legs were numb and his body slumped to the ground. Panic ran through him fiercely, because for just a second, he wanted to run until he was buried in Clover's arms. The two of them under a golden sky. No one else, No Angelina, no Fred. His heart skipped a beat in his chest and his body clung onto the girl in front of him, desperately trying to shove that thought out of his mind.