Friends Forever? GeorgeWeasleyXReader

Chapter 13

   George and Fred are at the quidditch pitch when a familiar, terror of an owl comes and lands beside them. Artemis pecked angrily at George's leg. He gives out an screech of pain and shoos the bird away before grabbing the letter that was addressed to My dearest best friends. George taps on Fred who is staring at the receding owl, muttering something about how an owl can be so mean. Fred shook his head and looked at the letter George had teared open.

   Gred and Feorge,
   I am sorry for my absence, and not telling you what is happening. It is selfish of me to keep you both in the dark. My father is not in good health, and has until my birthday to wake up, and then my mum has decided to pull the plug. I didn't want to burden either of you with this information. That is the real reason I left, sorry Freddie for lying to you. 
   George, I love you so much. Even after everything. I would like it you both were here on my birthday. Your mum is going to talk to Dumbledore to arrange everything.
  I love you both,
    Y/n

   The Twins stare at the letter, grief and disbelief playing on their faces. George is visibly shaking fighting the tears in his eyes. Fred goes pale, feeling like a terrible friend for not realizing there was more going on with the girl he  calls his best friend, and the panic attack he had witnessed. 

   George stutters, "F-fr-freddie. We have to go. How did we not know? She isolated herself, and then just left and we didn't even fight harder for her."

   "Cedric knew." Fred recalled. And that was all it took for George to start shaking in anger, and he started running to the Great Hall.

*

   "CEDRIC. WHERE ARE YOU?" George bursts in with a fire in his eyes, a look of betrayal sketched on his face making him look older than fourteen. His fists are clenched so his fingernails dig into the palm of his hands causing small cuts. Everyone looks at him as he zeros in on Cedric. George pushes Cedric out of his seat onto the hard floor and gets on top of him, shaking his collar back and forth. "WHY DID SHE TELL YOU? Y/N TOLD YOU ABOUT HER DAD BUT NOT ME. WHY?"

   Cedric has a smirk on his face, "Ah the no good boyfriend. Yes, I knew. And she cried to me about it. And didn't even think about you. I was there for Y/n, and not you."

   George blacked out from rage as he started wailing on Cedric's face and torso, before being pulled off by a half giant and his twin. "Georgie, stop, you have to stop." George stopped and fell to the ground. Fred and Hagrid took him and Cedric to the Infirmary.

*** 

   My fourteenth birthday is two days away, but I'm sitting in the hospital with my mum and Miss Molly. Dad passed away this morning. I'm stone cold. I felt my heart stop as his did. It was just mum and I in the room when it happened, the pain just overtook his body. I'm young, my mum is young, we didn't deserve to have this happen, my dad didn't deserve to die. The rage I feel fueling my body is the only thing keeping me from crying. Mum is a wreck, she hasn't stopped crying since it happened. He was the love of her life and she was striped of him after 16 years. That's nothing compared to a lifetime. 

   "Becca, darling, it's time to go for now. We need to get you both home so we can arrange the funeral," Miss Molly says in the gentlest tone. She rubs my mum's back, coaxing her out of her delirium. 

   My mum doesn't say anything, she just walks out. hand in hand with Miss Molly. I get up to follow, knowing I can't do much else. I catch a glimpse of my messy hair, black, and my eyes, black, I keep my head down so none of the muggles notice my demon like eyes. I sit in the back of the Weasley's Ford Angela, staring blankly out the window to the sun shining like the terrible nightmare I am enduring never even happened. 

***

  Happy freaking birthday to me. My mum hasn't gotten out of bed, except to grab a gin and tonic. She was never a drinker before, only on special occasions with dad. I haven't showered since the day before he passed, I've ate the bare minimum to keep myself alive. Miss Molly has come over to check on us, bringing us fresh, hot stew, and a casserole. Both are untouched in the fridge. She told me yesterday that the Twins were coming today. So I sit and wait, not really wanting to see anyone, and I just want to sleep until my time runs out.

** Fred and George

   Getting off the train, they are greeted by the warm, loving hug of their mother. They notice she looks worn though, grieving the loss of her friend. She clutches her son George a little longer. His arms are wrapped around her as he cries into the crook of her neck. Fred rubs both his brother and mum's backs, not knowing how to deal with everything that is happening.

   "I'm so sorry mum," comes out of his lips as he lets her go. 

   Molly looks at her young son, wiping his tears away from his weary face. "Oh honey, this is going to be difficult for us all. Y/n, Miss Becca, they are feeling tortured through this. Y/n needs her best friends more now than she has ever before. And I need my boys to be strong for her. She will need your laughter to get her through this."

   The Twins nod, understanding how important this is. They walk out to the car, not knowing the extent of their friend's pain, and how this would effect them all.

**

  My face is burried into my pillow, willing myself to sleep, or turn into a bird so I can fly away; neither was achievable. Expectantly, I hear a soft knock,  then two sets of foot falls, and weight as they sit on my bed. I don't move, knowing that once I look into their faces I won't be able to contain my emotions, and not wanting them to see my eyes. 

   "Y/n," it's Fred, I feel his long, slender fingers go through my hair, "We are both here for you. Can we stay?"

  I think for a moment. I didn't want them to leave, but I also didn't want them to be here to see me like this. I must have taken longer than I thought to do anything, because George started talking. "Y/n, we are staying with you. No matter what." 

   With those words, I feel my comforter being lifted and George's warm, long, slender body snake around my cold, fragile frame. His warm fingers running over the side of my face, tracing what features he could see, going over my ear, and through my hair. Fred rubbing circles on my back, still sitting beside me, humming a song his mum would sing us as kids. My face is still in my pillow, but I can feel the restlessness and tension from the last few days, weeks even, leaving my body. As I drift off into sleep, I hear the love of my life whisper, so low I couldn't tell if it was real or just my imagination, "Happy birthday, Y/n. I love you."