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Chapter Two- Kitchens and Kisses
This trip through time seemed to take longer than the past two. Molly was grateful when her feet touched the soft carpet and she felt secure once more. Looking around, she saw that she was in the apartment above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes - George's apartment. Like the rest of the building, the walls were bright orange and the carpet very green. The difference from the Burrow where she had last been was almost blinding.
Molly also noticed that there was a wreath hanging on the door to the staircase, enchanted so that it changed colour from red to green. George's apartment was a mess, but this wreath really reminded her of when Fred was alive. It had been his idea to enchant the wreaths, and George obviously did this for him.
Fred must have noticed the wreath as well, because when she turned around, he was grinning like an idiot, deep in thought. She could tell by the look on his face that he was proud of his brother for thinking of this, and glad that he did.
Molly noticed that the drapes she had given George for his apartment weren't hung up; this disappointed her slightly, but given it was Christmastime, she decided not to yell at him when she woke up from this crazy dream.
George walked into the room sleepily, apparently just out of bed. Molly looked at the neon orange clock in the corner; half past ten. She knew George wasn't an early bird, but it was Christmas Eve - he should have been up by now. George walked over to a charmed chilled box and pulled out a carton of milk. He drank straight from it, bringing a grimace to Molly's face and causing her to wonder how he survived without her.
It had been a few days since she had seen him, but she could tell that he hadn't been doing much. The apartment was a mess, with paper plates and take-out containers lying around everywhere. Fred's death had really hit him hard, and he was having a hard time living without anybody else around all the time.
George had still been able to decorate for Christmas, though. All of the usual Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes decorations were everywhere. George had used his business to keep his mind off his late brother this year, inventing new products for Christmas left and right. Molly wished she had something like that; it would have made this season much easier.
Fred turned slowly around, observing his brother's new living conditions. He was very happy that his brother was able to invent without him - the business would be down the drain if he wasn't. He saw a sprig of mistletoe over the counter, and the next thing he knew, it was over the sofa. George had charmed it to move periodically. A mischievous grin spread across his face; he had a faint idea what that was for.
George was now sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Daily Prophet , which had been left for him by an owl, along with a letter pertaining to his dues with the company. The headline on the front page said, Potter to be Married? Below was a picture of Harry, fallen on his knees during a snowball fight, with Ginny pulling him up. The Prophet still published lies and overreactions to daily events, such as this snowball fight.
If Molly thought the stupidity of the Prophet was unbearable, George was even worse. He scowled and almost crushed the milk carton when he read the headline. "Stupid gits," he grumbled. "Can't tell a Hippogriff from a Thestral, let alone a proposal from someone helping someone else up."
After George was finished with his newspaper, he got up and returned to his bedroom. Molly and Fred didn't have long to wait before he walked back in, sporting a Muggle t-shirt and jeans, ready for a good day at home.
He quickly got to work adding more decorations to his apartment. About five minutes into his work, he must have decided it was too quiet, and whipped out his wand. He gave it a wave, and Jingle Bell Rock began to play out of nowhere. George had always enjoyed Muggle music, particularly the Christmas tunes.
As the music played and George worked on putting up colour-changing wreaths, moving mistletoe and other creations, Molly admired her son's resolve. This soon after the battle, she was barely able to do the laundry without breaking out into sobs, but her son seemed to be having no trouble. She was sure this was very saddening for him, but he plowed through like there was no tomorrow.
George seemed to be having much fun, twirling and waving his wand while dancing like a child to the music. He reminded Molly of Xenophilius Lovegood, not worried about what others - and maybe himself - thought. Of course, he had no idea that anybody was even watching him, but if it had been Molly, she would have been very self-conscious dancing around as he was.
Fred was watching his brother in awe as well. He had never, in his whole life, thought that he would see George, of all people, dancing by himself. Luna, yes. Ron, maybe. But George? Never! He soon found himself laughing uncontrollably, very glad that George could not see him, or hear him, for that matter. This sight was something he would never see again, and something that he would use against his brother when the time came.
George stopped abruptly, flicking his wand to turn off the music. It was almost as though he realized his mother and twin were watching his dance. As it turned out, though, he had heard steps on the stairs leading up to the apartment, as soon enough, there came a knock on the door. Fred was shocked, but Molly informed him that having lost one ear made the one George had left doubly strong.
George walked over to the door, a worried look on his face. Fred thought he probably wasn't expecting anybody, given his prior behavior. When George opened the door, he was face to face with Angelina Johnson, former Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Her dark skin reminded Fred of the days he had spent with her while in school, and he sighed at the thought. He missed her.
"Hello, George," Angelina said, her soft voice contradicting her height. "I thought I would stop by with my present."
"Er," George looked awkward. "Thanks. Um, would you like to come in?"
Angelina nodded and crossed the doorway into the apartment. She surveyed all the take-out containers and the now empty milk carton on the table, a look of understanding in her eyes. She removed a small package from her coat pocket and held it out to George. "I know it's not much, but I figured it would make you feel better about everything."
George closed the door and sat down on the sofa. Angelina followed, watching as he peeled the wrapping paper from the box. She watched him open it, and followed the look on his face carefully, as though waiting for something in particular. He pulled out of the box a square picture frame, with three people grinning and waving in it.
"It's you, and me, and Fred," she explained, pointing out each person as she went. "In our second year, when we all made the Quidditch team."
George's face turned redder as he tried not to cry. This was the best present he could ask for. Molly was almost reduced to tears as well. She hated seeing her babies this upset.
George turned to Angelina and gave her a warm hug. "Thank you."
Angelina accepted his hug, patting his back kindly. The look on her face was full of affection for George. "I miss those days."
George pulled away, a reminiscent smile on his face. "Me too."
Quiet returned to the apartment. It wasn't so much an awkward silence as it was a thoughtful one. Angelina broke it, seemingly reluctantly. "I'll see you around, then."
"Alright." George walked Angelina to the door, never once stopping to put down his photo. They paused before opening the door, looking at each other silently.
George stepped forward and gave Angelina one last goodbye hug. Before pulling away, he left a soft kiss on her cheek. She didn't object.
When the pair broke away, they gazed into one another's eyes for a moment longer, before Angelina pulled open the door. She gave a quick wave before turning and walking down the stairs to the main shop. George watched her leave, his eyes conveying his emotions: a mix of happiness from the photo she had given him and sadness from her short visit. Molly and Fred could tell that he had wanted Angelina to stay longer.
When Fred turned to look at his mother, he saw that she was a wreck. She was sobbing into her sleeve, and had sat down on the floor. She really did hate to see her children upset. George had become especially difficult to watch lately, what with his grief for Fred. Seeing him kissing Angelina had made her even more upset.
Fred walked over and sat down next to his mother. He tried to comfort her, hugging her, patting her back as Angelina had done for George, telling jokes; anything to help her. They stayed that way for a long time, moving occasionally to keep George from tripping over them.
George had continued his decorating, but with less vigor than before. He was obviously upset, missing Angelina.
He took breaks for lunch and dinner, and it was getting very late before he finally stopped. He walked into his bedroom, and Molly, who had overcome her sobs, followed with Fred. They waited until he was done changing, which he did in the bathroom, and watched him climb into bed. This was the longest they had stayed for one trip through time, and Molly loved it.
George fell asleep after laying awake for a while. He had his photo from Angelina in his hands, and was looking at it sadly, remembering those times, when there had been little to worry about. He was only twelve in this picture. His face showed that he was thinking about the kiss he had shared with Angelina today, and his mixed feelings because of it. Was that something wrong to do, since she had gone to the Yule Ball with Fred? Would he be mad at him if he knew he had done that?
Little did he know, Fred was in the room with him, and had been since before the kiss. He didn't mind; he actually thought it was sweet, and right. He wasn't alive anymore, and Angelina was no longer his girlfriend. George needed her more than he did. They were right for each other.
When George finally fell asleep, Fred waited a moment, and walked over to his side. He kneeled down next to him, and began stroking his hair. Molly was shocked at this gesture; she had never seen anything like this from her most rowdy sons. "Fred," she said, choking a little from the tears that were still left unshed. "What are you doing? You'll wake him up!"
"No, Mum," Fred answered. His tone told her that he was holding back tears as well. "Remember when you used to do this for us?"
Molly did. "I only did that for you two. It woke everyone else up."
Fred nodded, and Molly realized why he was doing what he was. It had never woken George up, and Fred was feeling for him because of the events of the day. Molly watched her sons, proud of Fred for his affection towards his brother.
And there they sat, for a long while. When finally he felt ready to leave, Fred got up. Molly followed suit, moving to stand next to her son. Without a word, Fred got out his cloak and threw it over his mother's shoulders.
With one last glance at his twin, Fred thought of home.
***
The Christmas Caller by ravenclaw1997
Chapter Notes: Sorry this took so long... my beta went on hiatus before we finished going over this. Thanks, CoolCatElly, for helping as much as you did!
The purpose of this chapter is to show the main character that their loved ones are continuing on with Christmas even though someone else they love has died.
Chapter Endnotes: Well?? As soon as this goes through I'll probably submit the next chapter, and then the epilogue after that. I don't have much time left before it's due.
Leave a review before you go? We made fudge the other day...