48. Don't Do Anything Stupid

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content warning:
heavy drinking as a coping mechanism
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March 2000

It had been weeks since things had ended between Maxwell and Eloise. In that time, the girl had practically buried herself in her work to avoid thinking about the whole situation. No one other than Verity, Percy, and Fleur had been able to speak with her much. Even then, all they typically got from her was short responses and unamused grunts in return. Her invitation to Ron's birthday dinner had even been rejected, using the excuse of working overtime to finish a big report that needed to be done before Monday morning.

In actually, there was no such report and Percy knew this. But whatever was going on with Eloise was none of his business, he knew better than anyone what it was like to dive head first into work as a coping mechanism, no matter how healthy or unhealthy it may seem. So, he kept that little secret to himself, allowing her the freedom to come to terms with whatever was going on in her life on her own time.

Ron's twentieth birthday had been a hit, everyone was having a lovely time together. It felt like the first family birthday since losing Fred that everyone was actually in a good mood, even George. The only tension came from Ginny and Harry being in the same room together for the first time in months but even they could set aside their differences in favor of Ron's happiness. Besides, Ginny had brought Luna along who always had a curious talent of breaking the ice with her astute (and mostly blunt) observations.

One particular observation came shortly after dinner as Molly was serving the cake. Luna had been staring across the table at George for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Out of respect for her feelings, he didn't have the heart to tell her to knock it off, but to say it wasn't bothering him would have been a blatant lie. It was only when a plate of chocolate cake floated across the table and landed in front of the girl did George finally decide to break his silence when her eyes remained firmly on him rather than on the dessert in front of her.

"Everything alright there, Luna?"

The doe eyed girl across from him didn't respond right away, instead she reached down and dug through her bag before pulling out her pair of Spectrespecs and placing them over her bright blue eyes. A wide grin grew on her face as she looked back at him.

"It's just as I thought. You're surrounded by Dove Bugs." she mused.

"Dove Bugs?"

"Oh yes, they're flying all around your head."

George chuckled slightly. Being in a rather good mood that evening, he decided to humor her for a bit rather than brushing her off and telling her no such creature existed.

"Any idea how I can get rid of them?"

Luna shook her head, "I don't think you can."

"Why's that?"

"Well, they usually cling on to people who are in love." she said dreamily.

Ginny let out a snort beside Luna only to earn an unamused frown from her older brother.

"I think you're mistaken there, Luna." he said plainly as he brought his eyes back to her, hoping no one else was paying much attention to their conversation.

"No, no, I'm sure. They're clear as day. Don't worry though, it's not just you, they're around everyone here but me. Even Ginny and Harry have them, Percy too. But you sir are positively infested."

Whether or not this creature actually existed was a mystery to him, but George couldn't help but wonder if Luna really could tell he was in love with someone. Was he in love? The feeling honestly felt foreign to him, like he wouldn't even recognize it if it hit him in the face. He hadn't been feeling much of anything at all over the last year or so, now that he thought about it. A bit of anger and sadness here and there, but love?

Then again, he was fairly confident at that point that no one would think too deeply about the curious creature, especially if Percy of all people had 'Dove Bugs' floating around his pompous head. So he merely brushed her off and continued enjoying his dessert - double chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, as Ron always requested.

After dessert, all of the Weasley siblings along with Harry decided to go out into the garden for an impromptu game of Quidditch before the sun finally went down over the hill. Well, almost all of them, Percy merely sat beneath a nearby tree to read, enjoying the golden hour sunset as his siblings and Harry zoomed around the sky above him.

Hermione and Luna had somehow found themselves being assigned the roles of scorekeeper and referee respectively, although neither had much interest in doing those jobs correctly, (or at all in Hermione's case). The amount of times Luna called a time-out for a rule violation she'd made up but was certain existed for teams in far off countries was somewhat annoying for many of them but after Ginny had a quick word with her, the game was able to go on as intended.

All of the, now grown, Weasley children playing outside left Molly and Arthur behind to clean the kitchen while Verity and Fleur sat in the lounge sipping tea as little Victoire waddled around the room, stumbling to the ground a few times before laughing and picking herself back up again.

"How has Eloise been?" Fleur asked Verity as she glanced towards her daughter for a moment.

"She's been doing alright. I do worry about her sometimes, she's been keeping to herself a lot lately. I think the whole thing did a number on her. George asks me about her nearly everyday at work, but I have no idea what to say to him."

Fleur took a sip of her tea as she contemplated her response, "Do you think we should tell him? Not necessarily what she said about him, but that she ended things with Max?"

"I've thought about it but what good would it do? If things went wrong between them again I'd never forgive myself for getting involved." Verity said with a shrug.

Little did the women know that as they were in the midst of their gossip, Bill and George had decided to come inside for a quick drink of water. Of course, as luck would have it, they had overheard nearly everything being discussed but try as Bill might to usher his brother away from the doorway and into the kitchen, it was no use.

"Verity, could I have a word?"

The sound of George's voice startled both women and Fleur nearly spilled her tea onto the rug. Being none the wiser to the sudden growing tension between the adults in the room, little Victoire happily babbled and waddled over to her uncle with outstretched arms. Over his shoulder stood an apologetic looking Bill as he locked eyes with his wife who appeared to be quite disappointed in him at the moment.

"Sure." Verity said, keeping herself collected as she set her tea on the coffee table and stood from the sofa.

Bill and Verity practically traded places as she joined George in the hall while Bill scooped up his daughter and entered the lounge to speak with his wife.

"So, what did you need?" Verity asked innocently, hoping and praying he actually hadn't overheard their conversation and merely appeared in the doorway at the wrong time.

"Elle and Max are finished?"

A sigh escaped her lips, "You weren't meant to hear that."

"Just answer the question." he said impatiently.

"Yes, but-"

"But what?"

"But listen to me, George. Don't do anything stupid."

The man scoffed at her, "What exactly do you think I'm going to do?"

"I have no bloody idea, I just don't want either of you to get hurt again."

George rolled his eyes, "Relax, I'm not going to do anything."

Verity pressed her lips together firmly as she narrowed her eyes at the man. The petite witch loved George dearly, but did have an inherent distrust for him while also somehow trusting him with her life entirely. It was a confusing concept that made perfect sense in her mind.

George could sneak around and get away with nearly any scheme he wanted to but the man would also take the killing curse for anyone he loved without a second thought. It was complicated, worrying that George would hurt Eloise again but also knowing that he was the only person in the world who could truly take care of her in the way she deserved.

If only life had worked out differently, if only he was ready to love her.

All Verity knew for sure was that she couldn't stand to see Eloise as utterly broken down as she had been on Valentine's Day and if George wasn't truly ready to be with her, it almost felt inevitable.

-

"Don't do anything stupid."

It had been several days since Ron's birthday and yet Verity's words still echoed in George's foggy mind over and over again. As far as she and Charlie knew, he was spending the night at Lee's to let them have the flat to themselves for their first anniversary.

But that was a lie.

He'd gone to the Leaky Cauldron instead, losing himself within the depths of a bad habit he thought he'd kicked months ago. A sip or two of butterbeer or half a glass of firewhisky while he was out with friends was nothing, he felt like he was in control. But now he was alone, four drinks deep and completely consumed with thoughts of what he'd overheard his sister-in-law and best friend discussing at the Burrow a few nights ago.

This would be George's first strike that evening on what he knew Verity would consider to be a stupid decision.

After an unknown number of hours, George finally paid his bar tab and began his trek back to his flat when he remembered he'd promised Charlie and Verity he'd stay out of their hair for the night. He had no idea what time it was now but going to Lee's at this ungodly hour seemed out of the question.

That's when his eyes fell on it, the old red door situated between a Quidditch supply shop and a vacant store front. Without thinking, George pushed through the unlocked door and trudged up the steps, stumbling drunkenly when he finally reached the top.

Strike two.

The man knocked urgently on the first door on the left, unaware or simply too drunk to care about how loud he was being. A few moments later the door cracked open, held back with a small chain lock at the top. All that could be seen from the shadows on the inside of the flat were a wand pointed at him and a faint glimpse of frizzy golden hair reflecting in the moonlight from the window across the room.

"George?" Eloise whispered as she lowered her wand and squinted her eyes.

She was convinced she was still sleeping, still dreaming of him. If she was truly awake, the dim light in the hallway must have been playing tricks on her eyes, surely. Eloise quickly closed the door and the rattle of a chain could be heard from the other side before she opened it fully.

"Ellie!" George exclaimed with a wide grin as he stumbled against the door frame.

"Shh!" she hissed as she grabbed the front of his flannel shirt and pulled him inside before any of her neighbors could come out and witness the drunken man making a racket in the hallway.

Eloise didn't dare to let go of the grip she had on his shirt as she flicked her wand toward the door to lock it again, purely out of fear that if she let go of him he'd stumble into something and break it. Not that she was anywhere near strong enough to hold him up on her own, she knew that, it just felt safer this way.

"Sit." she demanded as she led him toward the nearest armchair, finally releasing the white knuckled grip she had on his shirt.

George plopped down with a laugh as he gazed up at her, a great contrast to the prominent frown on Eloise's face.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me, love." he slurred with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes and flicked her wand, igniting nearby lanterns replacing the silver light of the moon with a warm orange glow.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"At quarter after one?!"

"Is that what time it is?" he chuckled as he picked himself up out of the armchair and took a stumbling step towards her.

Eloise had her arms crossed protectively over her chest, rolling her wand idly between her fingers as she scowled at him. George towered over her but even in his inebriated state, he seemed to realize she had all the control right now as he took another step closer to her.

A surprisingly gentle hand reached up to graze her cheek ever so slightly before the other rested on the opposite side of her face, tangling into her curls and tilting her chin up to him, disarming her entirely.

"George, what are you-?"

"Just let me look at you." he requested almost soberly as his eyes met hers.

Eloise realized that even though she had seen George several times since that horrible night last October, she hadn't really seen him. She had merely glanced, teasing herself as she only allowed her eyes to linger for a few moments before tearing them away again.

Perhaps she had avoided truly looking at him out of fear of falling for him harder, as if it was even possible. She thought that allowing herself to indulge in his appearance would have made it even more impossible to let him go. It was the fear that gazing into his honey colored eyes for a second too long would have consumed her soul in its entirety, igniting twin flames within them and tying their hearts together with an invisible string.

Maybe all of that was already true but looking at George, seeing George, made it all too real.

But now she didn't even try to fight it as she met his gaze, she stood there taking in every little detail that made him so uniquely George as he did the same with her. If she'd had the honor of ever meeting Fred in a past life, she was utterly convinced that she would have been able to tell them apart with ease.

Every freckle decorating his skin was like a star in the sky and her eyes flicked across them all as if she were an astronomer discovering new beautiful constellations. Faint wrinkles framed his eyes like the ghost of wide grins and gregarious laughs of the old days, just prominent enough that it was almost like she could hear his laughter even in the silence of their gaze. Warm eyes that, until now, Eloise had been so sure were brown suddenly revealed green flecks of hazel that she'd never noticed before.

It was like she was seeing him for the first time, falling in love at first sight all over again.

George Weasley was beautiful, a work of art in her mind, a masterpiece. She was so enamored, she had nearly been able to avoid noticing what else painted his face.

Sunken cheeks from meals missed when he chose sleep over dinner. Dark circles beneath his hazel eyes from nights when he chose drinking over sleep. Tangled waves of fiery hair dancing on his eyelashes and dark auburn stubble pricking through his skin like flowers in the spring.

While he was still utterly perfect in Eloise's eyes, it was all evidence that he'd slowly stopped caring once again. But when had that happened? Or had it been going on for months and Eloise had simply been too blinded by her own selfish desire to move on to notice?

All signs pointed to him getting better. The mind healer seemed to be working from what he had told her. He'd been doing well at the shop from what Verity had been saying. According to Fleur, he had even been making more frequent visits to the Burrow. Everything on the outside really seemed okay.

Despite Eloise's sudden worry, this wasn't another breakdown. No, this was just George coping.

Grieving his twin would never end, the pain would never fully leave, the nightmares would always return eventually. But he was getting through it, surviving as best as he knew how. The grief would come in waves, some days being much easier to deal with than others. Even weeks at a time would feel alright before a reminder of his loss brought him down again.

The occasional sleepless night, the feeling of isolation even when standing in a crowded room, the days where even going through the motions felt impossible - that was all just part of his life without Fred now. While not every day would be like that, it was a part of his new reality.

There would come a time, more than a dozen years from now, where George would have lived longer without Fred than he had with him, yet the heartbreak of loss would never fully heal. But it would get easier. It wouldn't feel like a knife straight into his chest twisting mercilessly, instead it would feel like the dull ache of longing - a feeling he would eventually get used to.

But until then, this was George trying. Trying his damndest to go on without Fred. Because in all honesty, he didn't feel like he had a life without his twin. A stumble here and there was to be expected. Recovery wasn't a perfect road and George wasn't a perfect man, despite how much Eloise would object to the latter.

"Don't do anything stupid."

A reminder of Verity's warning flashed in his mind again and, in a twisted way, it almost made him want to laugh. Many decisions he'd made over the last two years were less than perfect.

Like when he wanted to give up the shop until Charlie and Verity stepped in to stop him. Or when he nearly destroyed his friendship with his best friend by almost drunkenly hooking up with her only a few months after losing Fred. For that matter, having a one night stand with that random witch from the bar after the first anniversary of The Battle could be added to the list as well.

Despite his denial, deep down he even knew that letting Alicia back into his life was a mistake - the girl didn't make him happy, she merely reminded him about how he used to be happy.

But possibly the worst decision of all, one he had made repeatedly, was each and every time he tried to push Eloise away.

Just like the pain of losing Fred would never end, it seemed like his bad decision making would persist as well. That night in particular, it felt like he'd made more poor decisions than he had in the last two years combined.

He chose to lie to his older brother and Verity and have a few drinks at the pub instead of spending the night at Lee's. Without a second thought, he allowed himself to fall back into the habit of drinking away his sorrows, drinking away the pain of losing Fred, drinking away the feelings of Eloise he didn't want to feel. The butterfly effect that lead him, in the middle of the night, straight to the flat of the woman he longed for to profess something that was so easy for him to admit but hard for him to accept.

It was a stumble, a mistake, a decision he'd never make in a different headspace. But he was here now and there was no turning back.

"Are you and Maxwell through?" he asked after what felt like an eternity.

"Yes." she let out in a voice so unintentionally small she wondered if he'd even heard her.

But he did, loud and clear. As if it was permission, George leaned down and pressed his lips against hers roughly with next to no coordination. The taste of firewhisky on his lips was nearly enough to make Eloise feel like she'd taken a shot of it herself. But instead of reciprocating his kiss, she pushed forcefully against his chest, causing him to stumble backwards.

Strike three.

"What are you doing?" she asked angrily.

"Something I've wanted to do since that night you left my flat months ago."

"You're drunk, George. You can't just show up here in the middle of the night and think kissing me will fix everything. You're probably going to regret coming here when you sober up and it'll break my heart all over again."

"I'm not going to regret it, I want you. I need you."

"Stop it, George."

"I mean it, Ellie. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a single second since I ended what we had. I'm an idiot, okay? It's you, I think it will always be you. I can't let you go, I don't even want to try to anymore."

Eloise tore her eyes away from him and gazed up at the ceiling instead, physically trying to will the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes back into her skull.

"You're drunk." she repeated in a whisper as she closed her eyes, causing a single tear to trickle down her cheek.

"So what?"

The casual tone in his voice did very little to comfort her as she opened her eyes to look back at him. If anything, it only upset her more. He made it seem so easy when in reality what they had was so complicated, it couldn't possibly be fixed by a drunken midnight confession.

"You're going to take back everything you said in the morning and it'll destroy me."

George stood there silently for a moment, almost as if he too thought what she'd said may have been a possibility.

"If I try to take it back, I'll just being lying to you and myself."

"But what does that matter? I'd almost rather believe that you've moved on with Alicia by now than to know you still want me but don't want to be with me. I think it might hurt less."

George shook his head, "Alicia doesn't mean anything to me, she's just there."

Eloise wasn't sure if he'd only had firewhisky to drink or if he'd also been slipped some veritiserum as well. Being inebriated seemed to open a flood gate of honesty within him.

"You can't do this to me, George. Not again, not like this."

"Let me make this right." he pleaded, reaching out to her again only for her to take a step back from him.

Trying to rationalize with George in this state felt foolish. He likely wouldn't even remember a single moment of this conversation when he woke up in the morning. Every second and every word was etched permanently in Eloise's mind and George would probably forget all about it in a few hours. If she'd ever envied anyone in her life, it was him in this moment. Because all she wanted to do was forget and pretend he'd never showed up at her flat at all.

"I think we should just wait and talk in the morning. You can sleep on the couch if you like, there's already a blanket there."

As George glanced toward the sofa, Eloise took the opportunity to escape the situation. Quickly turning over her shoulder, she returned to her own room latching the door quietly before leaning her back against the wood. With a shaky sigh, she sunk down to the floor and finally released the tears that had been looming ominously in the corners of her eyes. Like beautiful waterfalls, the tears flowed uncontrollably as she replayed George's words in her mind.

"It's you, I think it will always be you."

She'd wanted to hear those words come from his lips for so long, so why did it hurt so badly? It felt like a cat and mouse game, an endless chase and she would never win the prize.

It was a painful cycle Eloise had become all too used to. On the nights when she missed him desperately, the ones that felt like they would never truly end, he always returned. Like the sunrise in the morning, she could always count on him to come back. But with every sunrise eventually came a sunset, just as reliable and constant as the former, leaving her cold and alone once more.

If only he didn't have her locked in his orbit, stuck to him like a magnet. It was a painful truth that his gravity was much too strong to ever set her free.

She loved him.

With every fiber of her being, with every golden curl on her head, with every caramel colored freckle adorning her cheeks, Eloise was hopelessly in love with George Weasley.

But Merlin, life would be so much easier if she wasn't.

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