Waldosia/// George Weasley

Chapter 29

The pair of them became almost like a secret, quiet and lingering through the air at every beating second. They didn't talk to each other, didn't speak, too scared to acknowledge this universal truth held between them. They needed each other. So with meaningful glances, small touches, and held breaths, George and Clover came back to one another every morning. And every morning, George would try to make things right with her, beg for her to listen to him. But instead, Clover would take his hand and lead him to the cemetery where their words weren't alone. They were a secret, the pair of them, a truth. A truth that was too close to the very thing Clover was wired to run from, and so she did.

"Clover," George had abruptly stopped and tugged on her arm one morning, just steps away from entering the cemetery, "Can we please just talk?"

The blonde girl kept looking forwards, her movements stunted by his, "George, we can talk later."

"You've been saying that for a whole week now," his voice came out fast and quick, and Clover felt the stutter in her chest at his definitiveness.

Her bones ached to go, to keep on walking until this conversation was buried far in the past. She didn't want to hear his apology, she didn't want to hear his reasoning, she didn't want to make sense of his rationale. Clover was too scared that if she did, she would be rendered powerless to him. It was a hard game to play, finding a way to live both with and without George. But she had to play it, she would never forgive herself if she didn't.

"Clover, come on-,"

George stopped speaking, or at least Clover stopped hearing the words tumbling from his lips. They were at the gate now, the view of each and every stone just in front of them. Her eyes landed on the familiar boy sitting at Linny's grave and anger rolled over her like the never ending storm she knew it to be.

Clover hadn't even known her grip on George's hand tightened until he squeezed back. She turned to look at him and found that his eyes were already glued on her, studying, memorizing. Anger tugged on her again, but George was tugging back. His look promising her he was there for her, that he had her back.  But she couldn't trust a promise, not when it comes down to Theo Nott.

She dropped George's hand, a pleading look on her face, "We can talk later, please. I just need to deal with this right now."

George nodded, but he didn't want to. She knew him too well to believe otherwise. Yet still, he squeezed her hand one last time and made his way back to the shop. His eyes stayed on her until they could no longer see each other.

Clover turned her head and stormed over to Linny's stone, where Theo was kneeling in front of.

Abruptly and angrily, she pulled him off the ground by the collar of his shirt, "What do you think you're doing here?"

He flinched, and terror trembled throughout her own body at his reaction. She let go of him immediately and took a step back, gasping for a breath and hastily pulling away from him.

A moment of nothingness passed as their eyes met, childhood cries and screams and fears silencing each other. It was so familiar, so quiet, so bare that Clover had to close her eyes briefly just to catch her breath once again. Her ears picked up on her surroundings, signs of life pounding in her ears. The leaves rustling, the steps of nearby people, the chirping of the birds in the trees. She shuttered once she realized both her and Theo were doing the same thing. Listening for danger. And when their eyes met again, there was no anger shared between the two. Just silent understanding.

Theo cleared his throat, "Just visiting my sister."

"You have no right to call her that," Clover crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at the stone beneath them, "You lost that a long time ago."