The Tale of Guinevere

George

George apparated in front of Andromeda's house. He closed his eyes and took in slow and deep breaths, trying to find the courage to knock the door. Memories of Guinevere flashed through his mind. The World Cup, the ball, their first kiss. The way she fit in with his family, the way she helped Fred and him realize their dream. Then the more unpleasant ones. The pulling away, the break-up, the news about her and Cedric, their marriage. Cedric's death, the pregnancy. The disappearance.

He tried to move on once she officially tied the knot with Cedric. He really tried. When she disappeared after the battle, when Charlie showed him the note, something broke inside of him. He tried to understand why she did it, but why couldn't she see that George and the others would help her get through it. When Harry told her she had been in contact, another piece of him broke. Because why would she contact Harry and not him or Fred? Now, of course, he knew Harry bumped into her by accident. George hadn't heard a word from her since her disappearance.

He started dating a few months after she left. Nothing serious until Gloria. She made him happy, he met her during a social event from the ministry they were invited to. She worked as an Unspeakable at the ministry. After a year of dating, they moved in together. Six months later their relationship blew up. She had hinted that he wasn't always there, not fully in their relationship. But he waved it off, telling her he was all in, despite the fact that he knew she wasn't the one, that she wasn't the one he'd marry one day. When one night, she found a box underneath their bed when she searched for a lost earring. In the box were pictures of George and Guinevere together, one of her alone and the pocketknife and the Quidditch jersey. He came back from the shop, finding her sitting on their bed, the things inside sprawled over his duvet. That night, she left him. He took it a lot easier than he expected to. Only Fred knew about what happened between them. He might have tried to talk to George that maybe Gloria was right, that he still wasn't over Guinevere. But just like the time when they stayed with her at her parents' house during the war, he waved it off and ignored the feeling deep within. Time had passed, dates had come and gone, and now there wa-

George was pulled out of his thoughts when the door opened in front of him. Harry was glaring at him, his hand still on the door, not pulling it all the way open. "You know there are wards up here, don't you? I know you've been standing here for over five minutes."

"Right." He looked down and shuffled his feet. "C-can I talk to Guinevere?"

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. Showing off his broad muscle arms he got as an Auror. George never been afraid of Harry. But now seeing him as a full Auror, the glare pointed at him, and knowing he was in the wrong, it sends a chill down his spine. George could hear the kids laughing inside the house, then a voice he waited years to hear again.

"Watch out, watch out!" She laughed. "It's going to fall!" Then a crash and the kids laughed again. "Harry, who is it?"

"Uhm." He looked over his shoulder inside the house. George heart stopped for a second when she appeared next to him a large smile on her face. She pushed her hair behind her ear and wrapped an arm around his waist, and her smile faltered when she saw who was standing at the door. Gods, she was beautiful.

"Can I talk to you?" George asked quietly.

She glanced over to Harry and gave a small nod. He kissed the top of her head before disappearing inside. "Now you want to talk?" She said a bit snippy.

"Please." He didn't care if he sounded desperate.

"Alright." She sighed and closed the door behind her. "Let's go to the garden."

Feeling surprised to see George at the doorstep was an understatement. Even though my heart was beating fast at the sight of him, the anger got the better of me. I finally agreed to talk to him and led him to the garden. I took a seat at one of the two swing sets that were hanging on a thick three branch. George sat down next to me. I swayed a little back and forward as we sat in silence.