On the second to last day of July, Eloise arrived at the Burrow early in the morning, she was welcomed into the home by Molly who had been expecting her. Molly had sent her an owl only a few days ago, the letter was sent to Shell Cottage and was signed to Eloise in Molly's beautiful but messy handwriting.

Initially Eloise was confused, she had no idea why Molly would be writing to her seeing as they had only met once before. But upon reading it she was thrilled, Molly had asked her to help with planning Bill and Fleur's surprise wedding anniversary party that coming weekend. The only problem was trying to prevent Fleur and her notorious nosiness from finding out about the party.

The first time Eloise had met the Weasleys was pleasant enough, if not a little awkward. Matters weren't made any better when arriving home that night because immediate Fleur began asking Eloise endless questions about George. She wanted to know what Eloise thought of him, what they talked about on their way to the shed, if she was interested in seeing him again soon. The only thing that stopped the interrogation was Bill, who gently ushered Fleur away from Eloise, mouthing the word "Sorry" to her while doing so.

Hiding the letter from Fleur was quite difficult, but Eloise managed to do so by using it as a bookmark for safe keeping. While Fleur was nosy, she knew not to touch Eloise's books or move them from the last spot they had been placed in. Eloise was incredibly excited to help Molly plan the party for them, especially since Bill and Fleur were just expecting a normal family dinner, nothing extravagant.

Intently leaning over a piece of parchment scrawled with party plans, Eloise and Molly were giddily discussing ideas when George emerged from the staircase carrying a trunk. He hadn't expected his mother to be awake already as she had formed a habit of sleeping later than usual, but what he really didn't expect to see was Eloise sitting there with her. He had no idea why she was there, he honestly didn't care, he was too focused on the fact that he now wouldn't be able to make a quiet escape without any questions.

The reason he had packed his trunk was to begin moving back into his flat above the shop, but he didn't want to be confronted by any family members about it. Of course he would tell them before he had completely moved out, he wasn't a rude man, but he didn't want anyone to make a big deal out of it.

The two witches hadn't noticed George enter the room at first, so he was free to observe them for just a moment. Molly had said something to Eloise as he entered the room that made her giggle as she tucked a stray piece of her wavy blonde hair behind her ear. The light from the sunrise shining through the window landed on her hair, causing it to look even more golden than it did the last time he saw her. His gaze fell on her lips as she smiled warmly at Molly, nodding in agreement of whatever she had suggested.

George admired her as she spoke with his mother, the two clicked right away and he could see what a kind and attentive person Eloise could be. It left him wondering why she seemed to act so differently around him, as if she wanted to completely avoid him. The thought caused a strange feeling to form in his chest, a combination of confusion and jealousy. Maybe she could tell that he was a broken man and didn't want to get involved with his baggage - he could understand that.

"Oh, good morning dear."

The voice of his mother broke his train of thought, he hadn't realized how long he had been staring at the blonde. He tried to shake her from his mind before replying to his mother.

"Morning mum. Eloise."

At the sound of his short greeting Eloise looked up at George, she gave him a quick polite smile before returning her full attention back to the parchment in front of her. George couldn't help but feel as though she was avoiding him again. He tried once more to get thoughts of her out of his head. Molly stood from the table as she saw the trunk in her son's hands. She looked him up and down with furrowed brows as she walked towards him.

"What's this?" his mother asked, gesturing to the trunk in his hands.

"Just clothes and stuff, I decided to start moving some of my stuff back to the flat. I'm giving Charlie the extra room, so I figure I'll move back in as well so he's not alone there." he shrugged before bending over to place the trunk at his feet, intentionally creating a small barrier between him and his mother.

"Not in Fred's-" she started to ask in a sad hushed voice before George cut her off.

"No, in the old office." he interrupted, understanding that she was asking if Charlie would be moving into his twin's old room.

Surely she knew he had no intention of touching any of Fred's old things, let alone have his older brother take over the room.

His eyes quickly flashed over to Eloise to try and see if she was listening in on their conversation, but from his perspective it seemed like she was entirely too focused on whatever she was writing down to pay any attention to them. All he wanted was for to simply acknowledge his presence at the very least - a quick glance or something.

He had no idea why it seemed like the girl was invading his brain. Maybe he had just grown so accustomed to everyone around him always giving him so much attention that the one time someone seemed less interested in him, it became more obvious. The thought of him seeking attention or validation from someone he barely knew made him uncomfortable, he usually wasn't like that unless he was looking to get a laugh out of someone.

Trying to shake away his racing thoughts he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and returned his eyes to his mother. She looked as if she was getting ready to ask him even more questions and he wasn't in the mood to answer any of them, so he took that as his queue to leave.

"Look, can we talk about this later mum? I need to go meet Charlie."

Slightly taken aback by George's dismissiveness, Molly nodded slightly and said "Sure, dear."

He nodded at her and bent over to pick up his trunk again before turning to leave the house without saying goodbye to either of the witches in the kitchen.

-

When George arrived outside of the shop he set his trunk down and dug around in his jacket pocket for the keys. It was a few hours before any other stores would be opening, so Diagon Alley was almost as empty as it had been during the war. After unlocking the main door to the store he stepped inside, dragging his trunk behind him. He noticed just how eerily quiet the shop was with no one in it.

He had gotten so used to Charlie or Verity opening the store that he forgot how it felt for it to be completely silent. But despite the quietness that he had experienced before, this was his first time he was in the store on his own since losing Fred. Gazing at the stairs up to the flat he started to truly feel how alone he was.

Up until now he felt like he had been in control of his loneliness. He felt that he was the one that chose to push his friends and family away because he felt like it was better for him to grieve alone than to burden anyone with his emotions. But after his conflicted feelings this morning about Eloise, and the fact that he would be facing his past head on by moving back to the flat, he truly felt like he was forced to be alone. Even if everyone in the world was giving him all of their attention, without Fred he would always be alone.

Taking in a deep breath, he picked up his trunk and headed for the stairs. At the top of the landing he pushed the trunk against the wall next to the door, holding it up with his hip as he used his free hand to turn the handle on the door to the flat, nudging it open with his foot.

At first he just stood in the doorway for a bit gazing into the room, part of his brain felt like if he walked through the door it would be like a portal to the past and Fred would greet him on the other side. But in reality he knew that wasn't the case. He knew when he walked in that it would be empty, just like it had been sitting for months.

Eventually, he was able to will his feet to move his body forward. He walked through the dark flat and remembered what Verity had said about her and Charlie not coming up here. It was exactly how he and Fred had left it back when they went to their Great-Aunt Muriel's, so much so that George noticed that the door to Fred's room was still open.

George's eyes didn't break from the doorway to Fred's room as he set down the trunk on the kitchen floor. He desperately wanted to go inside to feel the memory of his brother. But at the same time he was scared of his own emotions if he were to put himself in that situation. All he could hear was his own heart pounding as his feet seemed to work on autopilot, carrying him straight towards his twin's former bedroom.

As he entered the room George felt a warmth wash over him, he couldn't tell if it was from the sunrise shining through the window or if it was Fred's memory. Fred had always been the messier one out of the two of them, and that was clear to see in his room. There were several sheets of parchment spread across the desk and crumpled papers scattered on the floor. Various pieces of clothing were thrown over the desk chair and on the floor haphazardly and Fred's bed was left unmade, as it always had been.

George took in the details of every inch of his brother's room and began to feel a lump start to form in his throat as he sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. He finally let himself feel all the emotions that he had been bottling in for almost three months, the quiet room was filled only with the sounds of George's sobbing. It felt like an eternity since he had first entered Fred's room, but his emotions were interrupted by the sound of Verity's voice coming from downstairs.

"George? Charlie?"

George quickly stood up from the bed and hastily wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his jacket before leaving Fred's room, pulling the door closed behind him. He walked back out into the main living area of the flat to see Verity standing in the doorway to the landing.

"I'm sorry, I saw the door open and I didn't know you were here. I'll go, I'm sorry." she whispered as she saw George's face.

Though he had wiped the tears from his eyes, they were still red and puffy and clearly showed all the sadness George had been feeling.

"No." he said without thinking as Verity began to turn around to retreat back to the store down below.

She paused and looked back over her shoulder to see George's arm stretched out to her, as if he wanted her to take his hand. Confusion took over as she furrowed her brows at him.

"Please." he whispered.

He had spent so long pushing everyone away but he realized in this moment he couldn't deal with this pain on his own, he needed someone. Verity didn't know what to do, she had never seen George be vulnerable like this before. She cautiously took slow steps towards him, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

They stood face to face with each other and she gently rested her hand in his. In one fluid motion he pulled her into a hug and felt her wrap her arms around his torso in response. As they both relaxed into the embrace he rested his head on hers and she leaned into his chest.

"I miss him so much, Ver." George mumbled as he put his face in her hair and allowed his tears to continue.

Her hand ran up and down his back as she attempted to comfort him, silently. He figured that she probably didn't know what to say, the embrace was all so sudden. But he honestly felt like her holding him was enough, she didn't have to say anything. They stood like that for several minutes as Verity rubbed his back and he cried into her hair.

George pulled away after a while, seemingly coming to his senses, he crossed his arms over his chest feeling guilty for the situation he had just put her in. Verity was his friend, his employee. He was cursing himself for dumping all of his problems onto her out of the blue like that. But she was there, she saw me, she didn't avoid me, George's thoughts felt like a hurricane in his mind. All this time he had spent bottling up everything was causing an overflowing whirlpool of emotions that he couldn't even begin to try to comprehend.

"I'm sorry Verity, that wasn't appropriate." he said, avoiding her eyes.

At the sight of his pained expression, she stepped forward and reached up to gently cup a hand to the side of his face, wiping away a tear with her thumb, forcing him to meet her eyes as he instinctively leaned into her touch.

"You don't have to apologize for grieving, George. Please remember that."

George and Verity had never been this open with each other even though they had known one another since their Hogwarts days. She was a Hufflepuff in the same year as him and Fred, and despite being in separate houses, she always found ways to spend time with them. Hogsmeade weekends were their favorite times together, the three would spend their entire time in Zonko's Joke Shop planning out their next week of pranks.

It was a natural choice to ask her to work with them when they opened their shop because that's what their relationship was built on, jokes and laughter. So now that the two of them were standing there with George's emotions completely unguarded was brand new territory. He couldn't help but think that she saw him, she knew him. Verity didn't avoid him, she didn't treat him any different after everything that happened.

They were completely consumed by the emotional moment that they hadn't noticed the sounds of Charlie's footsteps coming up to the flat. The older Weasley was greeted by the sight of George and Verity in their emotional embrace and he immediately wished that he had never stumbled upon them.

"Oh shit, sorry I- sorry." Charlie stuttered, causing Verity and George to quickly pull away from each other.

Verity looked from Charlie back to George as her face grew red in embarrassment and she promptly rushed out of the room, bumping Charlie's shoulder in the process. Charlie's eyes followed Verity as she rushed down the stairs but turned back to George who was running a hand through his hair, avoiding his gaze.

"Are you okay? Was this? Is she?" Charlie stuttered, unable to form complete thoughts.

"Nothing." George shook his head.

"Right, cause I don't think that would be a good idea."

"What?"

"Verity. I mean, she- it's not a good idea."

"Charlie, it's nothing." George said, the frustration on his voice was clear to both of them.

He already felt overwhelmed and confused enough with his emotions as it was. On top of everything else on his mind, he didn't need his brother thinking something was going on between him and Verity.

George honestly didn't know what he was feeling about Verity, she was the first person he really opened up to other than his mother at Fred's funeral. Mostly, he just felt grateful that she was there for him, but part of him also felt awkward about the moment they shared and hoped that their friendship wouldn't be affected by it.

The fact that she hadn't been treating him any differently since losing Fred brought great comfort to George, he felt normal around her. So he was dreading the possibility that she might see him as a broken man now that he decided to open up to her.