Five years later

There was a light breeze that tousled my messy hair. I pulled my cardigan around myself and sighed.

“This all?” The waitress asked me, placing down my cappuccino in front of me.

“Yeah, thanks.” I smiled half-heartedly at her.

She left and I didn’t move at all. I didn’t even know what I was doing sitting at the back of a muggle coffee shop. All I knew was that I had to stay away from everyone forever.

Or at least until all the buzz died down.

I sighed into the tepid air and began to stir my coffee unenthusiastically.

Why today? Why did it have to be today?

Hi, I’m George Weasley, and I’m going to get married on the twenty third of July.

Seriously? On my fucking birthday?

I pushed the hair out of my face and sighed again.

“You’ll be alright.” I told myself. “You’re gonna be fine. He’ll marry her and you never have to see him again and it’s okay.”

I tuned into the radio that was playing lightly in the shop.

“I am not the kind of girl, who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion, but you are not the kind of boy, that should be marrying the wrong girl.”

Fuck.

I will not go and crash a wedding.

I will not go and crash –

Who the fuck am I kidding?

I downed my coffee in one, and handed over my money to the cashier, before apparating to Harry’s house.

I figured he and Ginny wouldn’t have left yet.

“HONEY, I’M HOME!” I shouted, opening his front door. He’d given me a key, knowing that I was an emotional and psychological wreck.

“Hello Willow,” Ginny beamed, walking past me. “How are you?”

So in love with your brother that I’m crashing the wedding, but I need to be subtle about it or Harry will stop me.

“I’m not bad.” I smiled politely. “Is your husband around?”

“He’s upstairs with James.”

“Thank you Ginny.” I said, and proceeded up the stairs. It was always uncomfortable speaking to most people now. They didn’t know what I knew. And it hurt like hell. There wasn’t the kind recognition in their eyes that I somehow always expected. It was kind, but it was pity. She didn’t know me. Not anymore.

Harry was in James’ nursery, struggling to dress him.

“Do you need a hand, Harry?” I asked, smirking at his failure.

“Hi Willow,” he said turning to me. Him face crumpled a little. “Uh, no. I’m alright.”

“I’m psychologically messed up but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you dress your friggin’ kid.” I sighed exasperatedly.

James started crying.

“Sorry,” I breathed.

“It’s not your fault Willow.” Harry said, lifting James into his arms. “It’s okay.”

“I’m going to go, uh, speak to Ginny.” I gulped uncomfortably and walked back downstairs. It was like the little kids knew there was something wrong with me. Ugh.

“So,” I said, attempting to be cheerful and casual. As I saw Ginny again. “What’s up?”

“The wedding, for starters.” She gestured to her dress. “Obviously.”

“Not dress robes?” I asked.

“Nah, Cara wants to accept the muggle side of things. You know. She’s muggle born and wants to keep it subtle. They’re getting married in the Church her parents married in. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Lovely.” I grimaced.

“Yeah,” Ginny smiled. “I totally get it though. She wants to stay connected to her parents after their death. She’s got a tragic life story actually.”

“I bet.”

“You know,” Ginny added. “You never did get around to telling me about your life.”

“Mhhm,” I said, feeling my heart thumping violently as it moved up toward my throat.

“I’ve asked Harry, but he says it’s your story to tell...All he really says is how you saved everyone.” She smiled at me brightly. “You’ve done so much for my family – hey! You should come to the wedding – George would love to see you again, you know after you saved his Twin’s life.”

“Sorry. I can’t. I’ve got. To um. I’ve got to go Ginny. Have a time good. Uh, good time. Whatever.” I apparated out of there, and ended up in my parent’s house.

Yay! Quality time with the folks.

“Willow!” Mum exclaimed, almost spilling her tea. “I didn’t expect you!”

“I wasn’t really meant to turn up here. Sorry.”

“No! No! Stay!” She smiled at me. “Are you alright?”

“No.”

“Honey! What’s wrong?”

“Everything sucks balls.”

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“Never mind, you were saying?”

“George is –“

“Getting married, yes! That reminds me – JAMES ARE YOU READY DEAR?!”

“NEARLY!”

“We’re about to head there ourselves, are you coming?”

“Nah, I’ve um.” I apparated away again.

That’s all I’ve really done the past five years. I’ve pursued a career in alcoholism, I’ve developed insomnia, I’ve apparated away from my problems – honestly, it’s a flawless system.

I ended up in the Weasley’s joke shop.

Fucking. Yay.

If there was a list of places I never wanted to ever go, this was third – the first being the Burrow, the second being St. Mungo’s.

“Willow?” a voice called.

Wanting to puke on myself, I turned around. There was recognition in his eyes. And pity.

“Holla Fred.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Drunk apparation, it’s great.” I shrugged. “You end up all sorts of places.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “So are you so entirely hung up about my brother that you can barely function in your day-to-day tasks?”

“More or less.” I shrugged again. “Like, no one fucking knows or fucking cares and it’s fucked man.”

“Just a bit.”

I sat down and he sat across from me.

“It’s tough on you, isn’t it?”

“What gives it away?”

“I’d say the drunk and disorderly behaviour.” He nodded.

“Ahh, I’ll try harder next time.”

“Willow – I know no one remembers you, but you can’t have been forgotten – I mean to say, I remember you, so does Hermione, and Lupin and Harry! I don’t see what’s –“

“You don’t see the problem?” he nodded. “Okay, I sacrificed myself to bring you all back, and you’re the only ones who remember me. I can still see Ron, and Ginny and George, but they don’t know who I am. There is no recognition in their eyes. It’s horrible. My best friends – my fucking family – and my sort-of fiancé they don’t recognise who I am. They don’t remember me. Which would be fine, if I didn’t remember them.”

“But they –“

“They think I’m some hero called Willow. They go – oh look, it’s Harry’s sister who brought the back to life – there isn’t meaning behind my name anymore. I will never hear your brother say my name with meaning; with love. And it hurts greater than anything.”

Fred was silent.

“You know the worst part? I can’t even be mad at Cara, because she’s a nice person, but she isn’t right for George – I’m not right for this George either. GOD! I FUCKING HATE EVERYTHING!”

“Don’t try to kill yourself again.”

“I don’t think I will, considering I ended up in St. Mungo’s mental health ward for a year.” I grimaced. “Not quite as fun as you’d think.”

“Will, I’m just worried.”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s fucking worried. I see the looks of pity on all your faces. I don’t want your fucking pity, Fred.”

“Well what do you want then!?” he said exasperatedly.

“I want it all to go back to how it should be – you know –“

“No. Willow. I don’t know. Neither do you! You don’t know if you and George would have gotten married. You don’t know how it should be. If it was fucking normal, I’d be dead, eighty of us would be dead, and Voldemort would have won. Is that how it should be?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too, you drunken bitch. What do you expect me to do? Kidnap my brother and make him love you? Newsflash willow – you might have saved the world, but it doesn’t mean it revolves around you. You’ve got to stop being this alcoholic psychopath and stop playing the victim – it’s pathetic! Wake up and smell the stench of your own vomit. You want to stop being miserable? Try.”

There was a long pause, most of which I was shocked out of my alcoholic stupor.

“Well said.” I stated, finally.

“So are you going to break into the wedding?”

“No.”

Five minutes later I left. I apparated back to my apartment and took a shower and brushed my hair the best I could. I picked out the cleanest clothes I had, which was a grey hoodie and black jeans and then, I stuck into the back of the wedding.

I heard someone say ‘it’s starting’ and I hid in the curtains at the back of the room because I’m a coward and shit.

The wedding procession passed and finally –

“If there are any objections to this holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

I stepped out of the curtains.

“I object.”

The whole party turned around, shocked, and looked at me. There was a pause, and some romantic type music was playing on a CD somewhere.

“Willow, go home, you’re drunk!” Harry shouted.

“Baby, I’ve never been so sober.”

“And who are you?!” Cara asked.

 “Right, okay, so I saved everyone from being dead that time –“there was a collective groan from the audience. “Oh fuck off, I saved your dead arses, don’t act like I’m a dick.” The priest was hyperventilating and chanting The Hail Mary to himself. Whatever.

“I am grateful that you saved my brother, but why are you here?” George asked.

“Um, Well, George, you see, you can’t remember, but we had a thing, and it was dramatic and we were stupid. And I fucking loved you, you dick. And you loved me, and it was –“I looked at all the people sitting around. What was a doing here? “It was – it sucked. It was horrible. You need a nice girl like Cara. You’re both going to be so happy. I’m sorry I interrupted, but I had to let you know.”

 “That’s more than enough.”Cara said icily. “I’m here to marry this man that I love, get out.”

I walked to the exit – however, it was all rather peculiar. The CD playing the romantic music skipped to the next track.

Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper: I love you, birds singing in the sycamore trees, dream a little dream of me...

I looked back up the aisle and George and Cara were facing each other again. Oblivious to the song change.

“You’ll be okay,” I told myself. I exited, and thought about what Fred had told me.

“You’re not going to crash the wedding?”

“No.”

“Do it.”

“What?”

“Here,” he passed me a paper. “That’s the address. Get yourself cleaned up and go there. Stop the wedding.”

“But you said –“

“I know what I said, the world doesn’t revolve around you; it revolves around me. I need you to crash the wedding.”

“Why?”

“Cara is so tediously boring that I want to die. She isn’t right for my brother.”

“Maybe that’s what he wants though –“

“Well, break in, and we can be sure.”

I walked down the front steps, the summer breeze dancing through the air. I pulled the engagement ring off of my necklace and dropped it into the fountain out the front.

I started laughing, and transfigured my outfit into a lime green sun-dress. It was hot and I didn’t care anymore.

“Willow,” A voice called out to me, and I turned.

“You were wrong, Freddie boy,” I squinted in the sunlight. “Cara is the right girl after all.”

“You’re Willow.” Fred said. “Willow Tree. I remember.”

I moved my face out of the sun.

“George? No, you’re meant to be getting married. Go inside.”

“My willow tree – dream a little dream of me.” George said nervously. “How did I ever forget you?” his hand brushed my cheek, and the warmth that spread through my body was hotter than a thousand summers.

Five years without love is a hard way to live.

“Go inside. You still love Cara. Don’t do this to her George.” I pleaded.

“I can’t marry her in a lie of love.”

“You care for her, she loves you. Don’t leave her standing alone up there. It’s not good being alone.”

“I can’t marry her, and I can’t leave her.” George said, looking confused.

“It looks like you need a distraction.” I smiled, pulling out a box of fireworks from my pocket. “Use them well.”

“Will I go to hell for blowing up a church?”

“There is no heaven or hell, just life.” I told him, and it was true.

He ran back up the church steps and inside.

And his words were to stay in my heart until I died: “I remember.”

-added bit because I could finally be fucked to write -

I waited outside for a few moments before I heard a scream – “MY DRESS! MY DRESS!” The windows of the church were exploding, but instead of glass, confetti fell.

“Oh, George.” I muttered to myself.

Guests were flooding out of the church screaming, and clutching at their expensive clothing. The Weasley’s, however, were laughing. Fred was hugging George like there was no tomorrow. Harry looked over at me, and beamed, James clinging to his shoulder, waving at me.

Cara ran out of the Church, fuming.

“YOU BITCH!” she screamed at me. “YOU RUINED MY WEDDING!”

“It was George who blew it up.” I shrugged.

“UGH! YOU ASSHOLE!” she shouted back at him. “I WAS ONLY MARRYING YOU FOR YOUR MONEY ANYWAY!”

Whether she meant it, or was just hurt as fuck, I didn’t know. But fuck it. I’m selfish and I didn’t care.

“I think you lost something.” George said, suddenly in the fountain beneath me. He held up the ring I’d tossed in.

“Oh god.” I laughed.

“We all remember now.” He smiled brightly, and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the water. “So, are we gonna get hitched or- ?”

“If you want, like. I don’t mind. I don’t even like you that much –“ I smirked.

“Oh shut up.” George said.

And then they kiss.

End. 

yes it is very detailed yes