Clouded Siety

"Honestly, George, you could at least pay attention!"

"Huh?"

"Arg! Why do I bother?" Katie growled, marching away to the kitchen furiously. George sighed, watching her leave. He wasn't really feeling guilty for not paying attention. It was impossible to in this room, what with every inch of it a reminder of what he had lost. But he could not bring himself to store away the pictures. They were his only reminder of what had to be done. Without them, George didn't know what he would do.

He sighed, coming to a stand. Walking over to the window he pushed up the bottom half, letting the hot air blow into the room. Normally, Katie would have snapped at him for 'wasting air conditioning,' but she was already too mad at him to bother closing it, knowing he would only open it again once she left the room.

Leaning against the wall, he stared through the glass and out at the road. It was scenery much like that surrounding the Burrow, and often times, if he stared long enough, he could remember the times there he had forced himself to forget.

This time the memory of a make-shift Quidditch game came racing back. It was after the twins had opened their shop and were visiting home. Charlie and Bill were back on holiday. They were all out at the pitch: Fred and George playing the beaters, Ron was keeper, Harry, who was there that summer with Hermione, was seeker, Charlie, Bill, and Ginny resigned themselves to chasers.

They charmed rocks for bludgers and a small walnut for the snitch. It wasn't really a game but rather a practice, almost. That was the summer Fred had taken a bludger to the head. Well, rather a rock to the head. Molly had been furious, and she refused to let any of them touch a broom the rest of the summer.

George's hand instinctively flew to his head, where the bludger had struck... Fred. Not George. He closed his eyes, willing the memories away. There was a creak behind him, and he whirled to face Harry.

"Sorry George," Harry said quietly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"No... S'alright..." George said, trailing off. "Did you need something?"

"No. I just stopped by to give a quick good-bye. Luna and I are heading off on that trip to Ireland, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Well. Good luck then, with whatever Luna's got you chasing after this time."

"I've got some time, if there's something you want to talk about George."

"I'm fine Harry, really."

"Are you sure? We're not leaving for a while yet..."

"I said I'm fine!"

"Alright, alright! Don't need to get a temper on me."

"Sorry."

"Look... I'm sorry... It... It was me they were after, George. Fred was just..."

"Playing the hero," George muttered, finishing Harry's sentence.

"I know you miss him," Harry began after a moment of silence. "We all miss him."

"You have no idea...," George whispered. He was staring at the wall again. Silently, Harry made his way into the kitchen, giving a quick good bye to Katie, before apparating away.

---------------------

Both of them were silent as they ate their meal. Katie had been nice enough to cook for George, but she wouldn't so much as ask him to pass the salt once they were sitting at the table. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. The silence was driving him nuts, and if someone didn't say anything soon, he was sure he'd lose it.

"Alright, I'm sorry," he said at last, setting down his fork and looking at her. She didn't say or do anything to indicate she'd heard him. "I... I didn't mean to ignore you." Still no response. "Will you say something? Anything?"

She looked up and glared coldly at him, eyes narrowed. She turned back to her plate, and continued to pretend she hadn't heard him. He sighed in defeat, staring at the plate before him. He had hardly touched his food, which was consisted of mashed potatoes, green beans, and steak.

"Didn't ignore me on purpose? What's that supposed to mean?" Katie snapped, at last looking George straight in the eye.

"Exactly that," George replied stiffly. "Look, I don't mean to space out on you. But lately I just can't help it. It's hard..."

"I don't see what's so hard," Katie said. "He died ten years ago, George. Get over it, dammit. Get. Over. It."

"It's not that simple!" George said, his voice rising to match his temper.

"It is too! He was your twin, yes, but it was ten years ago. Move on! He's not coming back, and you know it! Fred is dead!" The words stung George. Shaking, he stood and walked swiftly from the room, sinking into his favorite armchair by the fire. Katie, regretting her harsh words, followed slowly. Hesitating, her arms fell loosely around his shoulder as she came up behind him. Silent tears fell down his face, and it was the first time in years that she had seen him cry.

He did cry at night; she could hear it distantly as she fell into the limbo between being conscious and asleep. But he looked so lost, so lonely as he cried in the fire light, she felt her heart twinge. "Shh, George," she whispered softly. "S'alright... Everything's okay..." Her whispering must have worked, because before long, he was staring silently into the flames before them.

"I'm sorry, Katie...," George began.

"I know, I know," Katie interrupted, feeling guilty for hurting him earlier.

"I shouldn't have ignored you," he said as she came around the chair and they sat cuddling in the armchair. "I just have... some issues on my mind I'm trying to deal with..."

"I know...," she repeated, looking over into his blue eyes. His twinkle, which normally sparkled so brilliantly, was gone. "I should have listened..."

"I didn't mean-," George began. But he was cut off as Katie suddenly kissed him. For a moment he froze, feeling a strong twinge of guilt he always felt when Katie tried to kiss him. Normally, he stopped her. But this time... This time he shook off the feeling, and returned her act with as much affection as he could muster.