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George has loved many people in his life – his friends, his family, his twin – but he's not sure he's ever loved anyone more than he loves Harry when he doesn't say I'm sorry or Oh, George or something equally inane. No, Harry looks at him with those tired eyes that he first saw when Harry stumbled out of the maze, clutching Cedric Diggory's dead body and asks him if he can help move the debris. And despite his mother's protests – George is glad, grateful for something to do.
Harry stands still for a moment, gazing at Fred, and there are tears in his eyes that he doesn't pretend to hide, and for that too, George loves him.
Harry slips into the room with a smile for George, but his attention is on Angelina and the tiny, perfect, little bundle she's cradling. She beckons him forwards and he sits on the edge of the bed, and she deposits the precious burden that, since half an hour ago, has become the center of George's world. Harry's hold is awkward, but gentle, and the latest addition to the Weasley clan doesn't wake as he changes arms.
Harry's here because George's asked him to come; before his parents, before his siblings; so far, Harry's the only one to know that baby Weasley is born. Because this is something important, something George wants Harry to be the first to know, and he knows by the warmth of Angelina's gaze as he sits down next to Harry that she agrees with him, that she supports him, and that gives him the courage to take that first step.
"Percy's gonna be the godfather," he says, and cringes a little at how brusquely it comes out. "I – We've forgiven him. A long time ago. But I want him to know it. To be sure of it."
Harry strokes the baby's cheek.
"He's gonna be a great godfather."
George takes a deep breath.
"Percy's gonna be the godfather," he repeats, "but" – he glances at Angelina, and she nods encouragingly at him – "his name is Fred Harry Weasley."
Harry goes very still.
Their gazes meet, and for a moment he's fourteen again, and he's staring into his friend's stark white face through the bars on the window, full of surprise and delight but mostly astonishment that someone had cared enough to come and get him.
For a moment, there is silence.
"Are you –" Harry's voice is soft, but his eyes never leave George's face. "Are you sure?"
George nods, and reaches over and squeezes Harry's hand.
Harry looks down at his nephew, and there's all the wonder in the world in his eyes.
"Fred Harry," he repeats softly. "Fred and Harry."
And if there are tears in his voice, neither George nor Angelina remark on it.
When George asks him, how do you get over it, he doesn't lie.
He says, you don't. But you go on.
Petite+Peste (Guest) Mon 20 May 2013 05:09AM UTC
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EternalSheWolf Mon 20 May 2013 03:38PM UTC
Last Edited Sat 06 Jul 2013 02:21PM UTC
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Missnoname (Guest) Mon 13 Jul 2015 09:25PM UTC
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PenPatronusAooO (Guest) Mon 15 Feb 2016 09:54PM UTC
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sweetangieb Mon 28 Nov 2016 07:24AM UTC
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