Fic: Carrying On for pitry
Title: Carrying On
Author: pretty_panther
Recipient: pitry
Character(s): George Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Teddy Lupin
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1717
Warnings (if any): Grieving, recent character death
Summary: Hermione and Ron return from Australia to find that George is still locked away in his room, failing to come to terms with Fred's death. When they try and talk to him, they find he doesn't even realise that they have gone and Hermione decides it is time to get him out of his room.
Author's Notes (if any): I found your prompts really interesting pitry and tried to deal with both George coping without Fred, while also including the trio and a bit of cameo muggle world! I hope that you like it. Writing gen fic was challenging but a lot of fun!
Betas: Non-LJ beta. My friend S. ♥
The Burrow hasn’t changed much, Hermione muses to herself while making her way up the path from the Apparation point with a silent Ron beside her. The war may be over but she is sure it would be a long time before Arthur ever considered lowering the wards again. The cemetery over the hill seems painfully close as Hermione looks around the side of the house for any signs of life.
“Hermione? Ron! You’re back!”
“Harry!” Hermione squeals, delighted, while rushing past Ron to throw herself at her best friend who laughs and spins her around before lowering her back to the ground, still laughing, and moving towards Ron to exchange hugs and manly pats on the back.
“Alright, mate?” Ron demands, while following Harry into the kitchen.
“Can’t complain,” Harry responds, “Let me just go get your mum and Ginny and George. They are dying to see you.”
“Alright. I will stick the kettle on,” Ron responds.
“Honestly, Ronald,” Hermione huffs, while sliding into a seat, “Mum made you a cup of tea and gave you a biscuit before we left.”
“So?” Ron answers, seeming to be genuinely bewildered as to what Hermione’s point is. His girlfriend is about to respond when Molly bursts into the kitchen shouting about her ‘Ronniekins’ and demanding hugs as Harry and Ginny follow in behind, the latter perching herself on the counter.
“Alright mum, alright, we only went to Australia for a few weeks. It wasn’t like before or anything!” Ron moans, as he sits down with his tea and gets presented with a homemade carrot cake a second later.
“I know, I know,” Molly sighs, while slumping into a seat next to Hermione, “But I still missed you. Things are...different these days.”
She tries to smile but even Ron can see right through it and grimaces while looking up at the ceiling, “He hasn’t improved then?”
The smiles slip from Harry and Ginny’s faces too and Hermione frowns, suddenly looking very tired, as Molly rubs her face with her hand and then sighs, “No. No, I’m afraid he hasn’t. I...can’t really remember the last time he left his room other than to use the bathroom for something, in all honesty. Of course, I don’t expect him to just...get better but...well.”
“Life goes on?” Ron offers quietly, “We all miss him. Fred...I know they were twins, but he can’t go on like this.”
“Percy has been taking care of the shop. Sometimes I help but most of the time I think he feels I’m in his way,” Harry supplies from the doorway, “George isn’t showing any interest. Every time we ask we just get told to do whatever.”
“Percy,” Ron blurts out, face scrunching into a confused frown, “You and Percy? That would be....bloody weird.”
“Language,” Molly snaps, automatically, and Ron’s cheeks fill with colour as he mutters an apology.
“I’ll go up and speak to him. Maybe having something different to talk about will help? Australia was amazing,” Ron declares, while getting to his feet, face setting into a determined expression. Molly says nothing and Ginny’s eyes are almost lifeless as she shrugs while he passes her, as if merely talking about George’s situation has drained the willpower out of her.
“You can certainly try.”
*
“Have you not buggered off to Australia yet?” George queries dryly without even looking at Hermione or the cup she has placed on the desk next to him. Hermione bites her lower lip and touches his shoulder lightly,
“I’m back, George. I have already been. I got back last week. Ron came up to speak to you. Don’t you remember?,” she asks worriedly, glancing at a frustrated looking Harry over George’s shoulder as he loiters in the doorway.
“Oh, well, that is nice then isn’t it. Now leave me alone,” George states numbly, his voice lacking any emotion at all. Hermione hears Harry sigh in the doorway and even though she keeps her eyes fixed on George, he doesn’t even look at her.
Startled at the dismissal, Hermione withdraws her hand, frown creasing her forehead, and follows Harry out into the corridor where he leans in to talk to her quietly, “You see? No one can get through to him. After the funeral...it is like he can’t even keep track of time. I know there is a process to grieving but it has been months, Hermione. I’m worried. We all are. Ginny can hardly stand to come and see him anymore.”
“I know you said things were bad but....that really is bad. Do you think we should talk to Healers?”
Harry shakes his head and scowls, “They say there is nothing they can do. Time. It will just take time. Besides, so many are overrun with patients from the war. So many were injured in the final battle and even before then that had to go into hiding and never got proper help. I saw Susan Bones last week. You don’t want to know what she is seeing in her training at St Mungos.”
“I’m going to speak to him again then,” Hermione says, trying not to think of the devastation Harry is talking about.“After lunch, I will go back up.”
“I’m not sure that is a good idea,” Harry mutters, following her into the living room where Ron is sitting with his tea and leaflets about Auror training programmes.
“I’m someone different and I’m going back to Hogwarts soon. I should at least give it a go. Then at least.....”
“Then at least you know you tried?” Harry supplies sadly, “It is funny, people thought the end of war would fix things; that things would be ok. I can’t stand this though. In some ways, well it is worse really isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Ron comments from the side, “At least before we were doing something. We had something to aim for. Now...now I don’t even know where to begin.”
*
“George? Can I come in?”
“You’re going to anyway,” is the sullen reply from the other side of the door and Hermione bites her lip. It had been Molly that had brought him his lunch and there had been tears in her eyes when she had returned to the kitchen afterwards.
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Hermione says quietly, shifting from one foot to the other and back again.
“Go on then. You might as well.”
Sighing, Hermione enters the room and finds George lying on his bed fully clothed and staring at the ceiling.
“Why don’t you come and sit with us in the garden?” She asks brightly, forcing a smile onto her face as she crosses the room and opens his window a little, “It is getting a bit stuffy up here, isn’t it? Harry is thinking that we could have a muggle barbeque. He has never had one before, you see, and we know where we could get one from a muggle supermarket.”
“I’d rather not,” George responds fully.
Frowning, Hermione crosses her hands over her chest and moves to stand right next to George’s bed and peers down at him, “And why not? It is a beautiful day, and you need to get out of this room.”
“I don’t want to,” George states, a little harder this time, as if giving Hermione a warning that she ignores completely and carries on talking.
“Your mum would like to see you,” she argues, “Everyone would. You can’t just stay up here all of the time.”
“Why not? What is the point of coming down? Someone can bring me something to eat,” George says, beginning to push himself up on his elbows and, finally turning to look at a frustrated Hermione.
“So, everyone should just run after you then? That is not right! You....you have to try and carry on, George,” Hermione says quietly, taking a half-step back from the bed as George’s eyes harden and he clambers to his feet.
“Carry on? How in Merlin’s name am I mean to carry on, when my twin is dead!” he hisses, his cheeks turning an angry red, as he towers over Hermione who holds her ground and stares defiantly back up at him.
“Maybe you can start by leaving this room. We all miss Fred, but he wouldn’t want this for you. You have to start somewhere. Now, I’m going to go with Harry to get a barbeque. We would love to see you for it later.” With that, Hermione turns on her heel and leaves the room. She doesn’t realise just how much her legs are shaking until she is in the backyard with Harry and Ron again.
“Well?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione sighs, “I just don’t know.”
*
“We should just use magic,” Ron moans for what feels like the millionth time to Harry’s pounding head.
“No!” Ginny scowls, “We’re not using magic! That is the whole point, and besides, we’ve got Teddy for the evening and we want to make this different!”
“Teddy isn’t going to remember this and I’m hungry,” Ron states, from the picnic table he had conjured, as if that was all that should matter to anyone. Hearing his name, Teddy looks between Ginny, whose arms he is in, and Ron and giggles suddenly while changing his hair to match theirs.
“Hang on! Hang on, it is working! I can see smoke!” Harry calls out excitedly, “Right! Hermione, pass me the burgers!”
“Pass me Teddy,” Ron mutters dryly, “I will entertain him while I wait.”
“Entertainment? Pretty sure that is my job.”
“George!” Ginny exclaims, jumping to her feel, with Teddy still in her arms.
“Pass me the baby. Blimey, he is getting big isn’t he!” George states, not quite his usual level of cheer but it is a start. Delighted, Ginny hands over the now green haired baby and moves to sit next to Ron without another word. A shared looks mean they all know to keep quiet and Hermione quietly slips from the group to get Molly and Arthur, who had just returned from work ten minutes before.
Ron catches George’s eye when Teddy rattles him over the head with a toy car and the older Weasley laughs, “I guess I had to start somewhere, and it looks like we can rely on this little bugger to knock some sense into me.”
Author: pretty_panther
Recipient: pitry
Character(s): George Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Teddy Lupin
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1717
Warnings (if any): Grieving, recent character death
Summary: Hermione and Ron return from Australia to find that George is still locked away in his room, failing to come to terms with Fred's death. When they try and talk to him, they find he doesn't even realise that they have gone and Hermione decides it is time to get him out of his room.
Author's Notes (if any): I found your prompts really interesting pitry and tried to deal with both George coping without Fred, while also including the trio and a bit of cameo muggle world! I hope that you like it. Writing gen fic was challenging but a lot of fun!
Betas: Non-LJ beta. My friend S. ♥
The Burrow hasn’t changed much, Hermione muses to herself while making her way up the path from the Apparation point with a silent Ron beside her. The war may be over but she is sure it would be a long time before Arthur ever considered lowering the wards again. The cemetery over the hill seems painfully close as Hermione looks around the side of the house for any signs of life.
“Hermione? Ron! You’re back!”
“Harry!” Hermione squeals, delighted, while rushing past Ron to throw herself at her best friend who laughs and spins her around before lowering her back to the ground, still laughing, and moving towards Ron to exchange hugs and manly pats on the back.
“Alright, mate?” Ron demands, while following Harry into the kitchen.
“Can’t complain,” Harry responds, “Let me just go get your mum and Ginny and George. They are dying to see you.”
“Alright. I will stick the kettle on,” Ron responds.
“Honestly, Ronald,” Hermione huffs, while sliding into a seat, “Mum made you a cup of tea and gave you a biscuit before we left.”
“So?” Ron answers, seeming to be genuinely bewildered as to what Hermione’s point is. His girlfriend is about to respond when Molly bursts into the kitchen shouting about her ‘Ronniekins’ and demanding hugs as Harry and Ginny follow in behind, the latter perching herself on the counter.
“Alright mum, alright, we only went to Australia for a few weeks. It wasn’t like before or anything!” Ron moans, as he sits down with his tea and gets presented with a homemade carrot cake a second later.
“I know, I know,” Molly sighs, while slumping into a seat next to Hermione, “But I still missed you. Things are...different these days.”
She tries to smile but even Ron can see right through it and grimaces while looking up at the ceiling, “He hasn’t improved then?”
The smiles slip from Harry and Ginny’s faces too and Hermione frowns, suddenly looking very tired, as Molly rubs her face with her hand and then sighs, “No. No, I’m afraid he hasn’t. I...can’t really remember the last time he left his room other than to use the bathroom for something, in all honesty. Of course, I don’t expect him to just...get better but...well.”
“Life goes on?” Ron offers quietly, “We all miss him. Fred...I know they were twins, but he can’t go on like this.”
“Percy has been taking care of the shop. Sometimes I help but most of the time I think he feels I’m in his way,” Harry supplies from the doorway, “George isn’t showing any interest. Every time we ask we just get told to do whatever.”
“Percy,” Ron blurts out, face scrunching into a confused frown, “You and Percy? That would be....bloody weird.”
“Language,” Molly snaps, automatically, and Ron’s cheeks fill with colour as he mutters an apology.
“I’ll go up and speak to him. Maybe having something different to talk about will help? Australia was amazing,” Ron declares, while getting to his feet, face setting into a determined expression. Molly says nothing and Ginny’s eyes are almost lifeless as she shrugs while he passes her, as if merely talking about George’s situation has drained the willpower out of her.
“You can certainly try.”
*
“Have you not buggered off to Australia yet?” George queries dryly without even looking at Hermione or the cup she has placed on the desk next to him. Hermione bites her lower lip and touches his shoulder lightly,
“I’m back, George. I have already been. I got back last week. Ron came up to speak to you. Don’t you remember?,” she asks worriedly, glancing at a frustrated looking Harry over George’s shoulder as he loiters in the doorway.
“Oh, well, that is nice then isn’t it. Now leave me alone,” George states numbly, his voice lacking any emotion at all. Hermione hears Harry sigh in the doorway and even though she keeps her eyes fixed on George, he doesn’t even look at her.
Startled at the dismissal, Hermione withdraws her hand, frown creasing her forehead, and follows Harry out into the corridor where he leans in to talk to her quietly, “You see? No one can get through to him. After the funeral...it is like he can’t even keep track of time. I know there is a process to grieving but it has been months, Hermione. I’m worried. We all are. Ginny can hardly stand to come and see him anymore.”
“I know you said things were bad but....that really is bad. Do you think we should talk to Healers?”
Harry shakes his head and scowls, “They say there is nothing they can do. Time. It will just take time. Besides, so many are overrun with patients from the war. So many were injured in the final battle and even before then that had to go into hiding and never got proper help. I saw Susan Bones last week. You don’t want to know what she is seeing in her training at St Mungos.”
“I’m going to speak to him again then,” Hermione says, trying not to think of the devastation Harry is talking about.“After lunch, I will go back up.”
“I’m not sure that is a good idea,” Harry mutters, following her into the living room where Ron is sitting with his tea and leaflets about Auror training programmes.
“I’m someone different and I’m going back to Hogwarts soon. I should at least give it a go. Then at least.....”
“Then at least you know you tried?” Harry supplies sadly, “It is funny, people thought the end of war would fix things; that things would be ok. I can’t stand this though. In some ways, well it is worse really isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Ron comments from the side, “At least before we were doing something. We had something to aim for. Now...now I don’t even know where to begin.”
*
“George? Can I come in?”
“You’re going to anyway,” is the sullen reply from the other side of the door and Hermione bites her lip. It had been Molly that had brought him his lunch and there had been tears in her eyes when she had returned to the kitchen afterwards.
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Hermione says quietly, shifting from one foot to the other and back again.
“Go on then. You might as well.”
Sighing, Hermione enters the room and finds George lying on his bed fully clothed and staring at the ceiling.
“Why don’t you come and sit with us in the garden?” She asks brightly, forcing a smile onto her face as she crosses the room and opens his window a little, “It is getting a bit stuffy up here, isn’t it? Harry is thinking that we could have a muggle barbeque. He has never had one before, you see, and we know where we could get one from a muggle supermarket.”
“I’d rather not,” George responds fully.
Frowning, Hermione crosses her hands over her chest and moves to stand right next to George’s bed and peers down at him, “And why not? It is a beautiful day, and you need to get out of this room.”
“I don’t want to,” George states, a little harder this time, as if giving Hermione a warning that she ignores completely and carries on talking.
“Your mum would like to see you,” she argues, “Everyone would. You can’t just stay up here all of the time.”
“Why not? What is the point of coming down? Someone can bring me something to eat,” George says, beginning to push himself up on his elbows and, finally turning to look at a frustrated Hermione.
“So, everyone should just run after you then? That is not right! You....you have to try and carry on, George,” Hermione says quietly, taking a half-step back from the bed as George’s eyes harden and he clambers to his feet.
“Carry on? How in Merlin’s name am I mean to carry on, when my twin is dead!” he hisses, his cheeks turning an angry red, as he towers over Hermione who holds her ground and stares defiantly back up at him.
“Maybe you can start by leaving this room. We all miss Fred, but he wouldn’t want this for you. You have to start somewhere. Now, I’m going to go with Harry to get a barbeque. We would love to see you for it later.” With that, Hermione turns on her heel and leaves the room. She doesn’t realise just how much her legs are shaking until she is in the backyard with Harry and Ron again.
“Well?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione sighs, “I just don’t know.”
*
“We should just use magic,” Ron moans for what feels like the millionth time to Harry’s pounding head.
“No!” Ginny scowls, “We’re not using magic! That is the whole point, and besides, we’ve got Teddy for the evening and we want to make this different!”
“Teddy isn’t going to remember this and I’m hungry,” Ron states, from the picnic table he had conjured, as if that was all that should matter to anyone. Hearing his name, Teddy looks between Ginny, whose arms he is in, and Ron and giggles suddenly while changing his hair to match theirs.
“Hang on! Hang on, it is working! I can see smoke!” Harry calls out excitedly, “Right! Hermione, pass me the burgers!”
“Pass me Teddy,” Ron mutters dryly, “I will entertain him while I wait.”
“Entertainment? Pretty sure that is my job.”
“George!” Ginny exclaims, jumping to her feel, with Teddy still in her arms.
“Pass me the baby. Blimey, he is getting big isn’t he!” George states, not quite his usual level of cheer but it is a start. Delighted, Ginny hands over the now green haired baby and moves to sit next to Ron without another word. A shared looks mean they all know to keep quiet and Hermione quietly slips from the group to get Molly and Arthur, who had just returned from work ten minutes before.
Ron catches George’s eye when Teddy rattles him over the head with a toy car and the older Weasley laughs, “I guess I had to start somewhere, and it looks like we can rely on this little bugger to knock some sense into me.”