The Black Sheep | George Weasley

Seventy-Four

Lyra had spent two weeks at Shell Cottage healing and trying to gain her strength. She couldn't stop thinking about Voldemort and the urge to watch him suffer. She played with her wedding ring as she drifted into a daydream.

Everyone had left her alone for an Order meeting. George kissed her goodbye and handed her tea he had fixed for her. She sat in the quiet kitchen. She looked outside the window and watched the dark waves angrily crash against the shore. The sky was a dark gray, it was midday but looked like it was much later. Light was unable to penetrate the clouds, no matter how hard they tried.

Lyra got up to put her empty cup into the sink. She washed her used cup by hand before putting it back in the cupboard. When she looked back out the window, she had George on the beach, fighting the wicked winds and coming up the hill to the home.

Lyra rushed to the front porch, hugging her cardigan closer to her body. The wind was strong and frigid. She used her hand to keep her hair from whipping into her face.

"Well?" She asked. "Where are the others?"

George passed her, entering the much warmer home. His cheeks red from the cold and his hair disheveled. Lyra followed him in and forced the door shut.

"Harry has gone to Hogwarts." He admitted plainly.

"What!" She gasped. She didn't expect that.

"The others are going to Hogwarts to back him up. Kingsley feels a battle will be taking place and Harry needs help against those bastards."

"I'm coming too." Lyra said firmly.

George let out a cold laugh, making her raise an eyebrow at his response. "You aren't going. You are staying here where it's safe."

"I'm going!" She said more severely.

"Harp, this isn't up for discussion, I only came back to let you know where we had gone." He went to walk back to the door but she grabbed his arm roughly.

"Like hell you are going without me! George I am going! You are not my-my father!" She shouted with rising anger.

His face grew stern. He looked down at her and his eyes narrowed in a way she rarely ever witnessed. "I am your husband. I made a vow to protect you, you aren't going and that final."

He made his way to the door and Lyra clutched her fists "I was raped!" She screamed, causing him to freeze in place. "I deserve my own justice, George. I deserve this. I deserve to face every fucking person who let it happen. I want to torture my aunt and I want to kill You-Know-Who."

He looked back at her. "I will get you justice, Lyra. But you aren't going. You are staying here where I know you are safe. Why are you being difficult?"

"Because I can't sit back while my only family walks into a battlefield! George, I-I need this."

"And if you die? It will be my fault!" He fully faced her with his lips tied into a frown.

"No," she shook her head. "It'd be the bastard who killed me. Don't leave me behind, George. Please, please let me help."

"No," George said with finality. He kissed her head. "I love you." He left her standing there, a tear running down her cheek.

George and the others used the Floo Network in Professor McGonagall's office. Fred's fingers twitched with pent up energy.

"They are all in the Great Hall." Kingsley said leading the large group down the dark corridors.

"How did the wife take it?" Fred whispered to his twin.

"Pissed," George replied.

"Figured, but you did the right thing. It's too dangerous." Fred replied. "I refused to let Angelina join. I threatened to tie her to the bed how she likes, she didn't think my joke was that funny by the shoe she threw at my head. It was maybe an hour-long fight before she agreed to stay behind."