A heart in the Ashes - George Weasley

Chapter 5

The Burrow was never meant to be quiet, not really. Even after all the children had grown and gone their own ways, there was always some noise—footsteps on creaky stairs, the hum of the kitchen, the occasional clatter of a rogue garden gnome trying to find its way back in.

But tonight, the silence was heavy, suffocating, as the Weasley family gathered around the dinner table.

Molly Weasley was busy at the stove, her wand flicking through the air as she levitated bowls of mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and a steaming platter of shepherd's pie onto the table. Her face was set in a determined expression, but there was a sadness in her eyes that she couldn't quite hide.

Arthur Weasley sat at the head of the table, glancing around at his family, trying to muster up some of his usual cheer.

The girl's head was bowed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She didn't quite meet anyone's eyes, her pale face almost lost behind the curtain of dark hair that fell over her shoulders. Her parents had been Death Eaters, a fact that lingered in the air like a curse.

It was hard to forget, hard to look past, even if she was just a child—a child who had seen more than anyone her age should have.

Molly finally took her seat, glancing at Cameron with a motherly concern. "Eat up, dear," she urged gently. "You need to keep your strength up."

They didn't understand, they could never understand how her stomach wouldn't take food, after such a long time period starving, it hurt, and it would take time to adjust.

So Cameron just nodded mutely, reaching for the nearest bowl. Her hand trembled slightly as she served herself some vegetables, but she tried to remain calm, to pretend that the stares from across the table didn't bother her.

George, sitting directly across from her, had been silent the entire evening. His expression was unreadable, but the anger was there, simmering just beneath the surface.

He hadn't wanted to take Cameron in. None of them had known her before, and the only thing they did know was that her parents had been on the wrong side of the war—the side that had taken his brother from him. Every time he looked at her, all he could see was the darkness that had consumed their lives for so long.

"So," George said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet like a knife. "Are you going to tell us why you're really here, or are you just going to keep pretending to be the poor little orphan?"

Cam freezed.

"George!" Ginny hissed, shooting him a sharp look from across the table. Ron, sitting beside her, nudged his brother's leg under the table, but George ignored them both, his eyes locked on Cameron.

The girl flinched, but she didn't lift her gaze. "I'm not pretending," she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the room. "I didn't ask to be here."

"No, you didn't," George replied, his tone cold. "But you are here, aren't you? And we're all just supposed to forget what your parents did? What they would have done to us?"

"George, that's enough," Arthur said firmly, his brow furrowing in disapproval. "She's just a girl."

"A girl whose parents would have killed us all," George shot back, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable. "Or have you all forgotten that already?"

"No one's forgotten," Ginny said quietly, from her place beside Cameron. She reached out, placing a hand on the girl's arm, trying to offer some comfort. Cameron flinched at the touch, but didn't pull away. "But she's not them. She's not responsible for what they did."

"Isn't she?" George countered, his gaze still fixed on Cameron. "Blood's thicker than water, isn't it? How do we know she's not just waiting for the right moment? Maybe she's just biding her time, waiting for revenge."