Healing Shadows | Harry x George

[ Echoes of Laughter ]

The Burrow had never felt so quiet. The usually bustling home of the Weasley family was now a place where silence hung heavily in the air, broken only by the occasional creak of the old house settling. For George Weasley, the silence was deafening, a constant reminder of the laughter and mischief that was no more.

George sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the worn photograph in his hands. It was a picture of him and Fred, taken just last summer. They were grinning widely, arms slung over each other's shoulders, eyes twinkling with shared mischief. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"George?"

The voice startled him out of his reverie. He looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, an uncertain look on his face. Harry had been staying at the Burrow since the end of the war, finding refuge with the family that had always treated him as one of their own.

"Hey, Harry," George said, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears.

"Mrs. Weasley said dinner's ready," Harry said, stepping into the room. He hesitated, then added softly, "I was wondering if you'd like to take a walk with me first. Clear our heads a bit."

George considered it. The thought of facing his family at the dinner table, with Fred's empty chair glaringly obvious, was almost unbearable. "Yeah, a walk sounds good."

They walked in silence for a while, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the oppressive atmosphere inside the house. The fields surrounding the Burrow were peaceful, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. It should have been a comforting sight, but George found little solace in it.

"How are you holding up?" Harry asked quietly after a while.

George shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. Some days are better than others. Today... today's not a good day."

Harry nodded. "I miss him too. Fred... he was one of a kind."

"Yeah," George said, his voice catching. "He really was."

They walked on, the silence between them comfortable. It was a relief, George realised, to be with someone who understood, someone who wasn't trying to force him to talk or pretend that everything was okay.

"I know it's not the same," Harry said after a while, "but I lost a lot of people too. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore... Remus and Tonks. It never really goes away, the pain. But it does get easier to bear."

George glanced at him, seeing the weight of Harry's own losses in his eyes. "How do you do it? How do you keep going?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Harry admitted. "Some days it feels like I'm just going through the motions. But then I think about what they'd want for me. They wouldn't want me to give up. And I don't think Fred would want that for you either."

George swallowed hard, emotions he'd been trying to keep at bay threatening to overwhelm him. "No, he wouldn't," he said quietly. "Fred always said life was for living. He'd be pissed if he knew I was just... existing."

Harry smiled faintly. "Exactly. So we keep going, for them. And we lean on each other when it gets too hard."

They walked in silence for a while longer, the weight on George's shoulders feeling just a little bit lighter. As they made their way back to the Burrow, George felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to live again. And maybe Harry, with his understanding and quiet strength, could help him do that.