RP: A quiet evening at home
Date: 15 June, 1999
Characters: George Weasley, Lee Jordan
Location: Their flat
Status: Private
Summary: George and Lee try to have dinner.
Completion: Complete
George had considered suggesting dinner out, had thought about urging Lee to go someplace other than here...then realised that he really didn't have the energy.
He'd spent an hour yesterday afternoon with Joseph Greystone, and had come home drained. Lee hadn't asked if he wanted to talk...George figured Lee understood that all he was capable of after a session was the most basic of basics. He couldn't discuss it. Couldn't do anything but sit and process.
It had been easier this time, and harder. They'd talked about the birthday again, about the Anniversary. About George's refusal to go to his mother's, about his avoidance of his family. I know she needs me. I need her too, but I can't...couldn't do it...I took a potion and slept on the sofa, surrounded by my friends. They didn't ask me to talk, or think, or eat...
And now he sat in the squashy armchair, both feet pulled up under him, staring into a fire that was completely unneeded and looking at Fred's wand. It had been another topic of conversation. How he'd been unwilling to put it away, like yesterday's news. It felt right to have it, to carry it, to use it. He'd marked Fred's headstone with both of them, adding the words they'd said a thousand times. Mischief Managed. Joseph had said that someday he'd be ready to do something with it, something special and meaningful. He couldn't imagine what it might be...
If Fred had had children, it would be easy to decide. His child should have it, feel his father's magic in the wood...but he hadn't. George could feel it...but somehow, it seemed to be worthy of more...
He sighed, running his fingertips over the wood, tracing the grain and the carving that he knew as well as his own wand, thinking about Fred. Somehow it didn't hurt. He missed him, yes. But that hollow, cold ache that always went with the thoughts of his twin was...less somehow. A tear spilled down his cheek as he curled a bit deeper into the chair, lost in his thoughts.
Characters: George Weasley, Lee Jordan
Location: Their flat
Status: Private
Summary: George and Lee try to have dinner.
Completion: Complete
George had considered suggesting dinner out, had thought about urging Lee to go someplace other than here...then realised that he really didn't have the energy.
He'd spent an hour yesterday afternoon with Joseph Greystone, and had come home drained. Lee hadn't asked if he wanted to talk...George figured Lee understood that all he was capable of after a session was the most basic of basics. He couldn't discuss it. Couldn't do anything but sit and process.
It had been easier this time, and harder. They'd talked about the birthday again, about the Anniversary. About George's refusal to go to his mother's, about his avoidance of his family. I know she needs me. I need her too, but I can't...couldn't do it...I took a potion and slept on the sofa, surrounded by my friends. They didn't ask me to talk, or think, or eat...
And now he sat in the squashy armchair, both feet pulled up under him, staring into a fire that was completely unneeded and looking at Fred's wand. It had been another topic of conversation. How he'd been unwilling to put it away, like yesterday's news. It felt right to have it, to carry it, to use it. He'd marked Fred's headstone with both of them, adding the words they'd said a thousand times. Mischief Managed. Joseph had said that someday he'd be ready to do something with it, something special and meaningful. He couldn't imagine what it might be...
If Fred had had children, it would be easy to decide. His child should have it, feel his father's magic in the wood...but he hadn't. George could feel it...but somehow, it seemed to be worthy of more...
He sighed, running his fingertips over the wood, tracing the grain and the carving that he knew as well as his own wand, thinking about Fred. Somehow it didn't hurt. He missed him, yes. But that hollow, cold ache that always went with the thoughts of his twin was...less somehow. A tear spilled down his cheek as he curled a bit deeper into the chair, lost in his thoughts.