Harry Potter Imagines

George Weasley - Worth Living For (pt 2)

TW: Pregnancy, grief

Streaks of moonlight shone through the tall window, casting a gentle glow on George's face. The white light highlighted the gauntness of his cheeks and the glazed look in his eye, a sight that made your stomach clench.

"Georgie."

His eyes flicked down to where you were lying on the sofa with your head in his lap. His fingers were running idly through your hair - sensations grounded him, in particular the feeling of your presence. Three months had passed but you were still his lifeline, and you didn't think that would change soon.

"I think-" You swallowed, maintaining eye contact. "I think it's time we visit your parents."

George's hand stilled and he clenched his jaw. You knew this was a sensitive subject, but equally you knew going to the burrow would be good for him. The burden of grief is easier to bear when the people around you are feeling the same way; when you can share in your mourning. You had loved Fred like a brother but you hadn't been there from the beginning, not like George's siblings had. He needed his family, needed to be with people who had known Fred as he did, who felt the loss as he did. He couldn't keep hiding in your apartment, a truth he knew as well as you did. George sighed.

"I know." He glanced at your belly, at the little bump just starting to show. Your hand cupped it instinctively. "They need to know."

You sat up so you were facing George, holding his hands in your own, running your thumbs soothingly over his coarse skin.

"We'll tell them together." Leaning forward, you captured George's lips in a gentle kiss. You focused on being present: the way George tasted of cinnamon. How his hands felt slightly cold in yours. How your knee was pressing against his. You tried not to focus on the sacrifice that had been made so you could be here. The sacrifice Fred had made to save not just one life, but two. How up until now, the pregnancy was tying you and George to Fred's memory. It was special, something that hadn't been told to anyone else. You worried that by telling your families, the tie to Fred would weaken, and his memory would slip further through your fingers.

–

You held George's hand while apparating, watching anxiously as the lopsided stories of the burrow came into view. When your feet were firmly on the ground you waited for George to move towards the door, but he stayed rooted to the spot. After a moment of taking in the familiar home, a tear slid down his cheek, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed too. These walls held so many memories of Fred that it was impossible to stand in front of them without the loss hitting you like a bludger. A reminder of all the memories that wouldn't be made in the future. How Fred would never meet his nephew.

You embraced George, as though you could squeeze strength into him. He rested his chin on top of your head.

"I'm ok love."

You shook your head slightly at the lie. "You're not, but you will be."

You each took a deep breath and walked into the burrow, hand in hand.

Molly was in the kitchen, and at the sight of you she burst into tears, her words incoherent through her sobs. But the bone crushing hug she encased the two of you in said more than words ever could.

"Blimey Molly, what's wrong-" Arthur stopped short on the last step of the haphazard staircase, eyes widening at the scene in front of him. His face had turned white, and equally pale faces emerged one by one behind him. First Ginny, followed by Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Percy. The Weasleys seeing George must have been an even more emotional experience than that of you seeing the burrow. It was impossible not to feel the missing piece of the family when faced with his twin, like looking at a guitar with no strings. Nobody quite knew how to maneuver the situation, the only sound being Molly sniffing as she wiped her nose with a handkerchief.

Finally the rest of the Weasleys, as well as Harry and Hermione, seemed to come to their senses, closing the distance between you to share hugs and whispered condolences. George was interacting but as though he'd removed himself from the situation, like he was there physically but emotionally he was far away, trying to cope with his feelings. The grief came in waves, this wave feeling like the tallest one yet, and it was all George could do to keep his head above water.

During the day the tone of conversation was kept light, and George became more present, engaging in conversations about what had been happening the last few months. Molly cooked a delicious meal that not only fed you and the baby, but could've fed an entire nursery, and as your stomach filled a bit of the emptiness did too. Fred was gone and nothing would make that ok, but there was still a great family who would remember him, and as long as they were alive a bit of Fred would be too.

It was after dinner that you and George decided, through silent glances, to break the news to the family. The chatter had lulled and each individual seemed lost in their own thoughts, although undoubtedly they all revolved around the same person. George cleared his throat.

"Y/n and I have some news." George looked at you, asking for permission to continue. While neither of you had said it out loud, you knew that this pregnancy was a connection to Fred for him too. That telling other people felt like giving away bits of that connection, which was difficult to bear. But at the same time, maybe there was a way you could honour Fred through the pregnancy, and that's when the thought came to you. You nodded for George to continue, suddenly buzzing with the feeling of sharing your idea. It was perfect. "Y/n's pregnant."

The cries of joy were immediate and heartfelt. George's hand clasped yours under the table as you were congratulated, hugged, and even kissed by Molly. The atmosphere in the room felt so much lighter, as though this was the good news the Weasleys had been waiting for for three months.

Late into the night, when the celebrations had finally calmed down, you bid your goodbyes before apparting back to your apartment. It seemed less daunting now, knowing that at any time the burrow was just an apparition away. You and George got ready for bed in silence, George reflecting on the day and working through the complex feelings being back at the burrow had brought, you working out how to bring up the idea that had consumed your thoughts for hours. You climbed into bed, laying your head on George's chest, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders.

"Thank you." His whisper was quiet and soft.

"What for?"

"For telling me to see them." He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "Thank you."

"I'm glad it helped."

For a while you let the silence wrap around you like a cocoon, your safety net. Approaching the topic you desperately wanted to talk about made your hands clammy and your heart race, not knowing how it would make George feel. All you wanted was for him to be happy - what if this was a terrible idea? What if it'd do the opposite of making George happy? That would break your heart. Before you could persuade yourself out of it you piped up.

"Georgie?"

"Mmhm?" You lifted your head off his chest so you could watch him.

"I was thinking... maybe we could- if you wanted to, of course- we could name the baby Fred?" You felt your heart thumping in your chest as you waited for his reply.

Not for the first time that day George's eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head fondly, wondering why he hadn't thought of it himself. "It's perfect." Arms wrapped around you, he kissed you passionately. Your hands cupped his face, feeling his stubble beneath your fingers. He was in awe of you. Of how you knew exactly what he needed. Knew how to honour Fred in the best way possible, with the baby that Fred had died to save. His legacy.

Eventually George broke the kiss. "What if it's a girl?" You laughed, and so did he, the beautiful sounds mixing with tears you were getting used to shedding. You savoured the light in George's eye, how he seemed more alive now than he had in months.

"It's not." George grinned at your response.

"How do you know?" You grinned back, and silently thanked Fred for the gift he'd given you. This baby was the light and hope that you and George needed so desperately. You could feel, from somewhere inside you much deeper than reason, that you were right. The baby would be a boy, with an uncanny likeness to his Dad and Uncle. The thought excited you, making the future seem bright despite the current darkness. You rested both hands on the bump.

"Mother's instinct."