Harry Potter Oneshots

soon you'll get better (george weasley)

song; soon you'll get better [taylor swift, the chicks]
pairing; george weasley x gender neutral!reader
genre; established relationship, heavy angst, hurt comfort, slight fluff
word count; 1,4k
timeline; post-second wizarding war
warnings; talk of fred's death, grief
summary; george was a broken man after the untimely death of his built-in best friend, and as his lover you were at a loss of how to help his grief

"this won't go back to normal, if it ever was."

—————————————————

You could never forget the look in George's eyes when he realised his twin brother was dead. It was ingrained in your head like a tattooed memory.

The pain and the anguish. The tears and the sobs. The pure grief.

You were upset too, of course. You loved Fred like a best friend, like a brother, and to have him ripped away from you so soon was heartbreaking. But you also knew what George would be feeling would be ten times worse - they had been attached at the hip since they were in utero.

You were also scared: all throughout the funeral planning and the initial stage of mourning. With how badly this would affect George, what if it drove him to suicide? It didn't help that the state of depression he entered afterwards was beyond any you had ever witnessed before - but maybe this was your first time getting the brunt of it as George was your lover.

He switched between phases of constant sobbing and being emotionless a lot. It hurt, and you hated to admit how prepared you were to have to contact St Mungo's.

The both of you were engaged, as well, but the wedding plans had been put on hold ever since the Battle of Hogwarts. You hadn't even brought them up because you didn't know how suggesting such a happy event would go with George since his twin brother wouldn't be able to be there for it. Especially because Fred would have obviously been his best man.

"Darling?" you spoke when you heard the front door to your shared flat shut.

No reply, but that was how he usually was these days. Relatively non-verbal.

You turned your head from washing the dishes when you heard him enter the kitchen and stand still for a few moments, staring into space.

"Georgie?" you said more gently, your voice breaking. You had tried so hard to be strong for him through his grief, but you were reaching your limit.

His eyes met yours with furrowed eyebrows.

"Should we, uh, should we get a takeaway for dinner?" you asked, clearing your throat to re-stabilise your voice.

George gave the slightest of shrugs, moving further into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He brushed your shoulder as he reached the sink, which made you jolt instinctively. Truth was, you hadn't touched George since the first night after Fred's death, when he sobbed into your arms until sunrise. Ever since, he had leaned away from affection.

The closest you got anymore was sharing a bed.

He noticed your movement and stopped before he turned the tap on, looking down at you with terrifyingly blank eyes.

For a second, regret glinted in them.

"I'm sorry, darling, I'm sorry," he spoke, dropping the glass in the sink and quickly disappearing into the bedroom.

You followed him but stopped to stand outside of the door when you heard his crying. And then tears were flooding down your cheeks, in flood loads as you rarely let yourself cry, causing it to build up. You had taken to hiding your feelings for George, as you didn't want him to deal with your grief as well as his own. As his sobs grew more choked, you turned around and sank to the floor with your back pressed against the door.