A/N: Hi everyone! I'm so sorry this update is late, I had a mental health emergency last week and needed time to decompress and recover. I tried to write this chapter last week in the middle of said emergency, genuinely, I was trying very hard for two days, but the quality was not up to my usual standard and my best friends were kind enough to remind me that taking a break would not be committing a sin, so I missed a week, and I'm sorry for that. I hope this chapter was worth the wait — I ended up changing my original plan for this chapter, actually, to make it a happier experience overall. And without further ado, I hope you enjoy, thank you for your endless patience with me, I love you so very much. <3

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GEORGE:

Snow blanketed London. It was wrong. It wasn't supposed to snow in London, not in the morning, not during the first week of December.

Henry had explained it to me once. London had so many people in one place, all living, all walking and driving and working and drinking, that it was warmer than the surrounding countryside. It only really snowed at night, late in winter, because there was so much love in London earlier in the winter, when the sun was keeping watch even behind the clouds, that it kept the snow at bay. Snow belonged to the dead of winter, snow belonged to the night, snow belonged to the moments when love was found only in bedrooms, from intimate beds shared to anxious bedside vigils, because the world was too cold and too dark for those who loved and were loved to brave the dangerous outside world.

But Henry was gone, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever felt so alone, just me, just George, against the blank white background of snow in London, because London was losing its love and snow had found us, even in December, even as the sun was rising somewhere in the east.

The snow kept falling outside as I went about my day, making the whole world bleak and cold and lifeless outside the shop. I left Fred to the mail orders and offered to go check on the owls and the pygmy puffs, which I realized was a mistake as soon as I descended the stairs into the storefront. I felt trapped enough on a normal day, but the colorful shop contrasted so starkly with the never-ending sheets of white outside that I was worried I was going to genuinely go insane because of just how profoundly lonely I was.

Everywhere I turned, I was faced with reminders of my solitude. Lucy and Henry and Archie had touched every part of the store. Their absence ached like a physical pain. I saw Lucy's smile in my mind as the pygmy puffs squeaked their greetings at me. I heard Henry's laugh as I reorganized the profanity fireworks in alphabetical order. And as I straightened the Shield Hats, I vividly remembered the sarcastic laugh Archie barked out, his face newly scarred, as he commented on the fact that it would have been nice to have a Shield Hat at the Bats match.

I, perhaps self-destructively, lingered in the shop for quite a while, feeding the pygmy puffs individually and reorganizing and straightening products unnecessarily. By the time I decided to return to the flat, I was so hungry the growling of my stomach was mocked by the pygmy puffs, so I reached for a pot and a box of pasta without so much as a glance at Fred.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Fred asked after a beat of silence.

"I charge Galleons," I replied without turning around.

"Add it to my tab. What's on your mind?"

I sighed and set the pot down, bracing myself against the counter, unable to bring myself to face my twin.

"Being trapped here," I started haltingly. "Being trapped in a cycle where every day has been the same, I've... forgotten isn't the right word. I've missed just how much time has passed. It's snowing, Fred, the seasons are changing, and everyone's still... gone. Somewhere out there, Henry's camping in the snow, and Archie, and the others too, presumably. The seasons are changing, yet nothing has changed, we're just as hopeless and despairing as we were a couple months ago. It's been months. I knew that, objectively, but now I feel the months that have passed while we've just been sitting here doing nothing."

"We helped Lee get Potterwatch off the ground by inventing the radio for him," Fred commented. "We're keeping an eye on Henry's dad and Archie's parents. We haven't done nothing, but... I understand. What do you want to do about this?"

I turned to look at Fred. "It's almost Christmas."

"Yeah?" Fred nodded. "It is."

"I wish everyone could be home for Christmas. Why can't the world just let us have a respite on Christmas?"

"Because the world's awful, for now," Fred replied. "George, what do you want to do about this?"

I paused. As much as I hated doing nothing, the thought of doing something was almost as paralyzing as the inaction had been. We'd invented the radio for Lee, but we hadn't appeared on Potterwatch because we were afraid of attracting unwanted attention to our family. We tuned in every night, and we helped supply Lee with information whenever we could, but we had yet to actually participate on air.

But it was almost Christmas.

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HENRY:

Sun beat down upon my head in the garden. It was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be that hot at the Burrow, not even with George there.

The afternoon sun blazed all around us, and it was hot, so hot, but I almost didn't care. George was laughing, we were flying, there was nothing wrong in the world except for the uncomfortably hot sun. George was talking to me, or singing to me, I wasn't sure which. I couldn't make out any of the words he was saying, and his mouth kept growing and shrinking to comical proportions before my eyes, but his eyes remained the same. They were locked on mine, so warm in the sun, melting chocolate beneath a dome of fire.

Even when I started falling from the sky and the world got darker, I kept looking at George, who chased after me, brown eyes so soft and full of love as I hurtled toward the ground.

I hit the ground hard, and the scene before me disappeared all at once. Archie's face was swimming in my vision, and he was saying something too, but I couldn't quite make it out.

"What?" I mumbled.

"Listen," Archie hissed, hauling me up to a sitting position.

The world around me pitched and whirled, but I gripped the edges of the rock-solid mattress as a familiar voice washed over me, grounding me.

"I'm so glad you asked, River," George was saying. "I love the work you do here on Potterwatch, you and Royal and Romulus, but something compelled me tonight to make my debut. It snowed in London today, you know. The work of a Death Eater's very-powerful Meteolojinx, as it turns out, but it got me thinking. I know we've all had a very anxious autumn, and this early arrival of winter could very well be a source of even more anxiety, especially for those of us who know people on the run. I wanted to come on here and do what I could to, well, lighten people's spirits."

"And why's that, Rhapsody?" Lee asked. "I'm sure there are many skeptical listeners wondering why you'd bother trying to offer encouragement in these trying times, and I'm sure even the most sincere listeners will fail to see the point of this new segment."

"Think about dementors," George replied. "For those of you listening who have never had the misfortune of being in a dementor's presence, let me tell you... it's awful. When you're with a dementor, it's far too easy to believe you'll never be happy again. There's a reason You-Know-Who recruited dementors early on in his campaign; they can suck your soul, yes, but worse than that, dementors have a way of making you not even want to fight to keep your soul. The despair they evoke is seductive, it's easy, too easy, to succumb to it. You know what defends against dementors, though? Joy. A patronus. The physical form of your happiest moments can save your soul. This same principle applies to boggarts, which take the form of your worst fear. Laughter is what finishes those off. So yeah, maybe the despair and fear we all feel right now is less tangible than a dementor or a boggart. There's no spell we can cast to make these heavy emotions flee. But, well, we're far from hopeless, just the same. Don't let the fear steal your joy. Hope and joy are the most powerful weapons we have right now."

Lee was silent for a second before speaking. "Very well-said, Rhapsody. I see that you've brought a Walkman, and, as your name suggests, I know you're going to play a song or two for our lovely listeners. Do you have anything else you'd like to add before we wrap this up?"

"Er... yeah, actually. This Walkman was gifted to me by someone I love very dearly. If you happen to be listening... please come home. I can protect you, and whoever's with you, come what may. Just... please. I'm giving this Walkman to Potterwatch in the hopes that you come home and fill the void yourself." George cleared his throat. "Well, just in case anyone listening doesn't want to hear 'S.O.S.' by ABBA, River, why don't you share the next password?"

"The next password will be 'Diggory,' whenever we are able to broadcast again. Keep each other safe. Keep hope. Keep faith. And, in the wise words of our new friend Rhapsody, keep joy and laughter close too. Good night. Take it away, Rhapsody!"

After a second, the first notes of "S.O.S." by ABBA started playing through the radio, and I turned to face Archie, who was looking at me wide-eyed.

"Did he really say we could come home?" I asked.

"Yeah, it sure as hell sounded like it. You're the one who gave him the Walkman, yeah?"

I nodded.

"Do you want to go home?"

I nodded again, so Archie quickly started shoving items from around the room into his bag. I started to get up to help, but with a flick of his wand and a roll of his eyes, Archie sent me sprawling backwards onto the bed and charmed one of the blankets to tuck me in so tightly I couldn't get up and help.

The sun in my dream wasn't the sun at all, it was just the excuse my consciousness had generated for the fact that fever still wracked my body. We'd split off from the others an unknown number of days prior to that night, because we didn't want the people hunting us to cause harm to the others, in the event that we were discovered. We'd taken up residence in an inn, because Archie said that I was too sick to fare well in the snow that was slowly beginning to blanket the countryside, and I believed him. My own concept of the world outside my illness-riddled body was minimal at best — I could barely lift my own wand to cast a Wand-Lighting Charm at that point, let alone summon the strength and presence of mind to fight, if it came to that. I hated being such a burden to Archie, I begged him to just leave me and run, but he refused with all of the stubborn loyalty of a Slytherin raised by Hufflepuffs.

Archie sighed and dropped down onto the bed next to me. "Do you think we should just apparate to the joke shop, or do you think George's message was coded somehow?"

"Joke shop," I said. "The Walkman lives in the joke shop. He wants me in the joke shop, to replace it."

"Alright. Let's give Fred and George time to get back, since I'm assuming Potterwatch was broadcast from a different place, and then we'll apparate there, alright? To that little alley?"

I nodded. "Okay."

"I was thinking we might have to do it anyway, if you didn't get better, just go to Fred and George and heal you up before taking off again, but if they say it's okay to go back and we'll be safe there..." Archie sighed again, this one softer. "Home for Christmas. Who would have thought?"

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GEORGE:

Since Fred had been on his own filling mail orders all morning and the hunt for Lee had taken up most of the afternoon, we were behind on mail orders. It was nice, having a bit of busy work to keep my mind occupied. I knew in all likelihood that Henry and Archie hadn't heard the Potterwatch broadcast, since they were on the run and Merlin only knew if they were aware Potterwatch existed at all, but there was a little flicker of hope in me that refused to die regardless. Just a flicker, but a persistent one, so I was glad to be able to focus on the mail orders so that I wasn't constantly looking over my shoulder to see if Henry had magically walked in the door behind me.

We were just about to call it a night when there was a crack of apparition that sounded like it was just outside.

I launched myself in the direction of the kitchen window, pressing myself up against the glass.

"They're here," I breathed, almost not believing my eyes.

Fred sounded equally shocked. "What?"

I didn't answer him, instead sprinting out of the flat and down the stairs, running so fast I reached the front door just as they did. Henry was leaning heavily on Archie, and I recalled with a rush of fondness that he really hated apparating and got disoriented if he hadn't done so for a while. I opened the door, my wand raised only half-heartedly.

"It's really us," Archie panted. "He told a story last Christmas about the mistletoe shirt I got him."

Without another second of hesitation, I yanked Henry through the door and pulled him to me in a tight hug.

"Henry," I whispered, burying my face against his shoulder. "You're..." I held him tighter. "So warm."

"He's sick," Archie started to explain.

"Come up to the flat," Fred called as he cast all of the protective enchantments again.

I pulled away from Henry just a bit and cradled his too-hot face in my hands. His eyes were barely open, I could tell that he was somehow both flushed and pale in the dim light of the streetlamp glow spilling into the shop, but it was okay, I could heal him, he was home.

"You're home." I tilted his head down just enough for me to kiss his forehead. "You're safe, it's okay, you're home."

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HENRY:

I reached for George, not entirely sure if he was real or not. I had been lucid in the inn, briefly, but I was worried I'd fallen into yet another dream. Of George, bathed in light, close but not there, not real, not mine to touch or too hold. George was always just out of reach in my dreams.

But when I reached for him, my hand found his jaw, my thumb tracing it clumsily.

"George," I said, my heart soaring in my chest for a second before my breath hitched in my throat and I had to quickly bury my face in the crook of my elbow so I didn't cough directly into his face.

"And there he goes," Archie remarked as he thumped me on the back. "Nothing a strong dose of Pepperup can't fix, I'm sure, but potion supplies are few and far between in the middle of the woods."

George slid his hand into mine once the coughing fit passed. "It's alright. You're safe now. Come on, let's get you settled."

I let George lead me, fading in and out of awareness as Archie started explaining what had happened in the months since we'd last set foot in the shop. None of it really mattered anymore, maybe none of it had mattered at all. My body was aching too much for me to care about anything other than the fact that George said it was okay. I trusted George. I trusted George quite a lot.

Soon enough, I was sitting on the sofa that had once been my bed, and George was kneeling in front of me, his hands tangled up in mine.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Where's Archie?" I replied, looking around.

"He's with Fred, and they're safe," George assured me, "and you're safe. Fred's looking to see if we have any Pepperup Potion, and Archie's raiding our kitchen. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Hot? Cold?"

I nodded. "Yes."

George chuckled weakly, resting his forehead on our tangle of hands for a moment before looking back up at me. "Alright. Tell you what, once Archie comes back with food and water for you two, I'll get my room all set up for you upstairs, and then I'll come fetch you and you can rest properly for the first time in a while. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah. I missed you," I said.

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GEORGE:

I valiantly fought the urge to break down crying as I smiled back at my delirious boyfriend. "I missed you too."

When Archie returned, a bowl each hand and a bag of crisps under each arm and two massive glasses of water floating on either side of him, I slipped out of the den and hurried upstairs.

"We don't have any Pepperup Potion on hand," Fred reported from the bathroom, "but we've got the ingredients for it in the storeroom downstairs. If I start on it now, it'll be ready by morning. Reckon he'll need a stronger dose than usual, or at least more of it."

I nodded. "Yeah. I can brew the potion, I doubt I'll be able to sleep tonight anyway, I want to stay up and keep an eye on him. I headed up here to get my room set up for him. The both of us, rather."

"Alright. I'll go gather what you need and bring it up to you."

"Thank you." I sighed, noticing for the first time just how violently I was shaking. "They're back. It's going to be okay. Right?"

"They're back. It's going to be okay. Take a deep breath." Fred patted my shoulder as he walked past me to head downstairs.

I frantically straightened up my room to try to make it as cozy as possible for my boy, my sweet boy who had been on the run for too long. I duplicated pillows and blankets and even charmed a few to have yellow and purple stripes like our ties at the wedding. Had that really only been five months ago? Less than, even?

When I made my way back downstairs, I found Archie and Henry sitting side-by-side in silence. Henry had eaten a little and drained his whole glass of water, and Archie had consumed all of the food he'd brought down for himself but had barely touched the water.

"There's plenty of everything," I said. "We've been stockpiling supplies just in case we needed to stay within these walls for a long time, but dare I say we have too many now, so please, do us a favor, eat it all, I'm tired of pasta."

Archie grinned. "We were scared of lighting fires, so we wouldn't object to pasta. It's one of the few foods a little Warming Charm can't make palatable, since you have to, you know, boil the water, and Warming Charms don't get that hot."

"You two can have all of the pasta you want. You want some now?"

I started to get to my feet, but Archie waved me down. "I'm going to explode already. Maybe tomorrow."

"Henry?" I asked. "You want pasta?"

Henry shook his head. "Not hungry."

"You need to eat something. Does pasta sound better than..." I glanced at the contents of his bowl. "Well, no wonder you're not eating the mashed potatoes Archie found in the fridge, they don't have pumpkin juice!"

"Oh please, you'll make him more sick," Archie groaned.

But when I looked at Henry, there was the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I know how you actually prefer your mashed potatoes," I said, summoning the garlic salt into my hand. "You prefer salty mashed potatoes, because otherwise to you it feels like porridge. You prefer overly-sweet porridge and overly-salty mashed potatoes, yeah?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah. You remembered?"

"How could I forget? That's the reason you refuse to try pumpkin juice with mashed potatoes."

"Sure, that's the reason," Archie remarked sarcastically. "Well, Henry, you're in good hands now, so I'm going to go crash in Lucy's transformation room. They're alright, by the way, in case you hadn't heard."

"Lucy reached out the night your paths crossed, but I haven't heard from her since. She only reaches out after full moons these days."

"And those have been okay?" Henry croaked, the most words he'd managed in a single go since arriving. "Lucy's full moons?"

I nodded excitedly and launched into an explanation of the new reality of full moons, while Henry slowly consumed the mashed potatoes, now properly salted. Henry and Archie were wide-eyed by the end of my story, and Archie wasted no time in dubbing Lucy's transformation room his new bedroom, since she no longer had use for it, and excused himself for the night, stealing a blanket and pillow off of the sofa and declaring that we shouldn't worry if he didn't emerge for 24 hours or more.

"Do you want a shower?" I asked.

"Not as much as I want to sleep!" he replied as he strode from the room.

"Taking after your former Head of House's showering habits, are you?"

Archie poked the upper half of his body back into the room, flipped me off, grinned, then departed for real.

I turned to Henry and brushed a couple of his curls off of his forehead. "Well, do you want a shower?"

"I feel so..." Henry shuddered, then nodded. "Shower sounds good."

"Well, you can borrow whatever you want of my clothes," I offered. "One of your towels is still on the rack. I couldn't bring myself to take it down."

Henry wordlessly reached for his rucksack on the floor next to him and rummaged around in it for a moment before pulling out the yellow and purple striped tie from the wedding. He twisted it around his right hand, the movement looking like muscle memory.

"Fell asleep with this wrapped around my hand every night," he explained. "Tied my wand to my hand with it. It's silly, I know, but... I kept you close too."

I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to me. "You're home. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be as close as you want me to be."

Henry leaned his head into me ever so slightly, but upon feeling just how warm he still was, I reluctantly pulled away and helped him to his feet.

"A lukewarm shower is best, when you have a fever," I said, steadying him when he started to tip forward a bit. "Too hot and too cold make it worse. Then you can come bundle up in my bed, and I'll be as close as you want me to be, alright?"

Henry nodded, and the two of us slowly made our way upstairs.

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HENRY:

The second I stepped under the lukewarm shower water, it hit me all at once that I wasn't dreaming, I was really in the joke shop, Fred was downstairs, Archie was asleep safe and sound in Lucy's transformation room, and George was waiting for me in his bedroom. It was over.

No, it wasn't over.

Gretch was at school with Dumbledore's killer in charge. Dad was sitting in an empty house, waiting for his children to come home even though he knew the love of his life never would. Lucy was Merlin-knew-where doing Merlin-knew-what with Harry and Ron and Hermione trying to save the world. Cedric was gone. Mum was gone.

I was still alive, somehow I was still alive. For that moment, I was still alive, and I was safe.

No, I wasn't safe.

How could I ever feel safe again?

After months of looking over my shoulder, of wondering whether or not my nightmares were worse than my reality, of running from my even-more-evil-than-I-realized Quidditch manager and his evil friends and even from the mere thought of evil, how could I ever feel safe again?

I trembled beneath the lukewarm water, knowing logically that I was safe and just waiting in vain for the rest of my body to get the memo. When relief didn't come, I scrubbed the months of grime from my body in a rush. Being in the shower felt too exposed, too unsafe, where was my wand, where was Archie, where was George, where was Fred, where was my family, or, rather, what was left of my family.

When I made my way to George's bedroom, I found him sitting on the floor, cross-legged in front of a cauldron.

He glanced up at me, clearly a little startled even though he smiled at me. "Hi. That was quick. You alright? Feeling better?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but no words would come. What was better, when the world was still at war? Was I feeling better? Was I supposed to feel better, knowing I was safe but so many others weren't? I didn't know. I clutched my wand tighter in my hand and struggled to breathe, because that was all I could do in that moment.

George popped to his feet and grabbed the hand that wasn't clutching my wand, gentle brown eyes searching mine.

"Sorry," I managed after a moment.

"It's alright," George said softly. "You're safe. Archie's safe. We're safe here. I promise. Come on, before you collapse, lie down, please."

I walked with numb legs over to George's bed and lowered myself onto it, deflating with a sigh that turned into a coughing fit.

"It's alright," George repeated as he pulled the covers over me. "I'm working on a nice strong dose of Pepperup Potion for you. It'll be ready by morning, and you'll be feeling better in no time. You can rest until then, sleep, you're safe, it's okay."

"Stay with me?" I asked, my voice sounding pathetic even to my own ears.

George crawled into bed beside me without a second of hesitation and pulled me close, and he held tight, a steady presence as I dropped off to sleep, slowly at first then all at once.

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

GEORGE:

As soon as Henry fell asleep, I slipped away to resume the Pepperup Potion. As much as I wanted to cling to Henry and never let him go again, it felt nice to have something to do, something tangibly helpful. I hummed to myself softly as I worked, the melody of the song I'd played on Potterwatch, because with Henry safe and sleeping soundly in my bed, I had reason to hum again. He was snoring, which he never did, but with how sick he was, it was admittedly comforting to have audible proof that he was still breathing. Archie assured me Henry had only been sick for a couple of weeks and that it was surely just a common cold gone wrong, but my heart still ached. Being on the run was bad enough, but the additional anxiety of being so sick must have been torture for my boyfriend, who hated the thought of ever inconveniencing anyone.

During a lull in the potion making process, when there was nothing to do but let the ingredients mix together for a bit, my thoughts wandered to Ron, and Lucy, and Harry, and Hermione, who were all still out there, somewhere, in the snow. Alive, I was sure, but still far from home. I considered trying my luck with the orb, on the off-chance she noticed it if it were to light up, but considering she only reached out on full moons those days, I knew it was unlikely.

Just the same, though, I didn't want to keep the good news of Henry and Archie's homecoming to myself, so I opened my bedroom door open a crack and summoned the orb into my hand. I just cradled it for a moment, knowing Lucy wouldn't see it but hoping she would anyway. We'd already had one miracle happen that night and I didn't dare ask for another, but I wanted to try anyway.

To my surprise, I heard footsteps creak up the stairs and Fred poked his head in.

"You scared the shit out of me, summoning that," he whispered. He looked past me at Henry. "Glad he's asleep."

I nodded. "Me too. Why are you still up?"

"Figured I'd make sure none of the wrong people decided to show up tonight. I don't think they will, you were very discreet with your message on Potterwatch and they're very discreet with Potterwatch in general so I doubt anyone we didn't want to hear it heard it, but just the same... war, you know?"

"War," I agreed. "You can sleep, it's okay, I won't tonight. I'll babysit the potion and my boyfriend and sleep once he's back to his normal self."

Fred looked uncertain, but he didn't need to say anything for me to know what he was thinking.

"I just mean in the sense that he won't be sick anymore," I clarified. "I know that an experience like that isn't going to be magically cured overnight."

Fred nodded. "He'll be alright, they'll both be alright, but, well, don't beat yourself up if they don't bounce back right away."

"Of course. You can go sleep, I can hold down the fort tonight."

"Alright. Fetch me if you need anything." He looked down at the orb in my hands. "If she responds, tell her I said hi and I love her and miss her, yeah?"

"Of course," I said again. "Good night."

"Good night."

Fred closed the door behind him as he left, and I listened as he crossed the hall to his own bedroom and pulled the door shut. I moved across the room so I could sit on the floor with my back pressed up against my bed, so I was right there if Henry needed me, and I settled in for the night, wand balanced on my knees and orb in my hands. I tossed the orb back and forth between my hands a couple of times, then, to my utter amazement, it glowed sky blue.

Are you okay? Lucy asked.

Henry and Archie are back, I replied immediately. Are you okay? I didn't honestly think you'd reply.

I'm okay, I just got back in from keeping watch. I check the orb whenever I get a minute alone, just in case.

I'm glad you kept up the habit tonight of all nights.

Merlin, me too. Are they okay? What happened?

They're okay. Henry's sick, but I've got the Pepperup brewing as we speak. Archie seems alright. He's sleeping in your transformation room, Henry's in my bed.

I'm glad they're okay. They're in good hands. Please tell them I said hi and I love them.

Will do. Fred says hi and he loves and misses you, by the way.

I love and miss him too. Are you and Fred doing okay?

Fred's asleep, but yeah, we're okay, better now that they're back. I hesitated for a second, then added, I wish you could all come home for Christmas.

Me too. I miss you always, but more so now than ever. Thank you for letting me know they're back, though, that makes me feel better. I should try to sleep now, but it was nice talking to you.

Talking being a relative term, of course.

Of course. I'll contact you on the full moon, if we don't "talk" beforehand. Good night, Georgie, take care. I love you.

Good night, be safe, I love you too, Cub.

I stared at the orb for a while, waiting for it to light up again, but it didn't. I was jerked from my daze by the sound of Henry gasping behind me.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" I twisted around to see Henry sitting bolt upright and frantically rifling through the sheets, coughing and crying as he did so. "Henry?"

"Wand," he choked out between coughs. "Where's my — "

"Accio Henry's wand!" It ejected itself from the mess of sheets into my hand, and I passed it to Henry. "Shh, shh, it's okay, you're safe, you don't need it right now, no one's attacking us."

Henry looked at me wild-eyed, clutching the wand to his chest. "Safe?" he repeated before he doubled over coughing.

I rubbed his back slowly. "Safe. We're safe. You're safe. No one's going to hurt us here. You don't need your wand right now."

"But I heard — " Henry coughed again. "A crash — "

"You were dreaming, Hen, it's okay, just a bad dream," I assured him. "Nothing crashed. Everyone here is asleep except for the two of us."

"Sorry," Henry choked out. "Did I wake you?"

I shook my head. "I was awake. I told Lucy you two are safe now. She says hi and that she loves you."

Henry coughed a couple more times before sagging against me with a small groan. "Sorry."

"Henry Furls, don't you dare apologize for any of this. You're here. Nothing else matters." I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face against his neck, closing my eyes and breathing deep. "I never want to let you go again."

"I know the feeling," he whispered.

I felt the slightest prick of fear at his words. Cedric. He was thinking of Cedric. If he'd only held on a little tighter to Cedric, maybe he still would have been around, maybe they would have been together instead. I tried to chastise myself for being worried about something as silly as that when I was holding Henry for the first time after several anxious months of wondering if I'd ever be able to do that again, but the fear had already taken root just the same.

"It's funny," Henry said after a minute, his voice fragile. "I had dragon pox fifth year, right before O.W.L.s. Cedric insisted upon being the one to take care of me in the Hospital Wing, as much as possible. I remember thinking at the time that he was so indomitable. I was very nearly felled by the same dragon pox that didn't frighten him at all."

I was right. He had been thinking about Cedric.

"I know this is just a cold," Henry continued. "I've never actually had to fight one off on my own before, growing up with Pepperup, and the circumstances didn't do much to help matters, but... I keep thinking about Cedric, and my mum, and..."

I felt as if I'd been punched in the gut. Oh.

I practically tripped over my words in my rush to get them out. "You're not going to die. I'm working on the Pepperup Potion right now, and — "

"It's okay," Henry interrupted. "I know I'm going to be okay. It's just... I don't know. I realized I'm more scared of losing someone else than I am of, well, meeting my own untimely demise."

"Head cold notwithstanding, because that's not happening on my watch. I refuse to let my boyfriend be taken out by the sniffles," I teased.

Henry rewarded my efforts with a small smile. "I appreciate that."

"And on a more serious note, I know what you mean. How very Hufflepuff of you, to be more distraught about your loved ones being in danger than the fact that you were as well. For what it's worth though, Mr. Magpie — wait, shit, I need another nickname, apologies."

Henry actually laughed at that, a real laugh that resulted in another coughing fit, and I smiled even as I rubbed his back soothingly.

"Anyway, as I was saying," I continued once the fit passed, "for what it's worth, I was very distraught when you were in danger, and I am in fact very scared of your untimely demise. As far as I'm concerned, you could never have a timely demise, but I'm just so glad that you're here now and — and that there's something I can do to make sure your demise is as far down the line as possible."

"Thanks, George," he said.

"Of course. Do you want to go back to sleep now?"

"Only if..." Henry hesitated for a moment, looking at me for a moment like I was the sun. "You promise to stay with me."

I kissed Henry's forehead delicately. "Of course."

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

HENRY:

When I opened my eyes again, I couldn't tell where I was. Not until George's voice met my ears.

"It's okay, you're safe, you're in the joke shop," he said. I swiveled my head, following the sound of his voice all the way to where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, ladling a potion into a goblet. "Archie's safe too, he's downstairs snoring away in Lucy's transformation room. Sorry, I mean his new bedroom. Fred sent off a patronus to your dad letting him know you're safe, so I reckon he'll be stopping by shortly. You should drink this before he comes, though, this should clear up your cold in no time. You can borrow your favorite Benny hat of mine to hide the steam, if you'd like."

"Good morning," I replied. I blinked a couple more times to bring the room into focus. It felt like my fever had broken, or at least lessened, overnight, but I was quite sure that the Pepperup Potion would make my head stop feeling like it was on the brink of explosion, which would be immensely appreciated.

George chuckled. "Sorry, that was a lot all at once." He got up and crossed the room, handing me the potion. "Drink up now, I'd very much like to snog you properly once I'm quite sure you won't cough directly into my mouth."

"Can't argue with that," I said as I accepted the goblet and sipped its contents.

Relief found me immediately, steam pouring out of my ears as the pressure in my head decreased.

"Better already," I told George, sighing with relief. "Thank you."

"Good, I'm glad," he replied fondly. "As for that cough, we tinkered with something a couple years ago, after Lucy inhaled all of that smoke at the Quidditch World Cup. It's worked for us every time we've inhaled too much smoke — occupational hazard — but I'm sure it'll work for you too. Word of caution, though — " George handed me a red pastille about the size of a Knut. " — don't put it in your mouth until you're crouching over the toilet. It expels everything from your respiratory tract rather violently. It's unpleasant, but at least it's a quick affair. It sure beats choking on air indefinitely, in my opinion."

"I'm so tired of choking on air," I said with a nod. "I'll be back."

I stumbled to the loo in my still-half-asleep daze and did as George recommended, crouching over the toilet and popping the pastille into my mouth. The second it touched my tongue, a strong surge of magic seemed to reach down my throat and into my lungs and yanked every bit of phlegm into my mouth. I spit it all out as fast as I could, gagging a bit, but George was right, it was over and done before I knew it, and I breathed deeply and easily for the first time in weeks.

"Merlin, I missed you," I declared, pouncing on George with a proper hug as soon as I returned to his room.

He hugged me back with shaking arms. "I missed you too. More than you know."

"Sorry for coming back in such a sorry state." I buried my head against his shoulder. "Not my finest hour."

"Merlin, don't apologize. At least you still have both of your ears. That's better than I fared, when I was the one showing up on your doorstep in a sorry state."

I just held him tighter. There was an aching emptiness somewhere in my body that I couldn't place, but it was something invisible, intangible. I still had both of my ears, and both of my hands, and both of my arms, and both of my legs, and both of my feet, so I was better off than a lot of other people who weren't quite so lucky. I hugged George as if I could will his everything into my nothing. I felt a bit like a painting that had been left out in the elements, whose colors had faded to the point of being utterly unrecognizable under the blazing sun and bitter rain and blinding snow and biting wind, but George was still George. The walls of his room were still a rich purple, he'd charmed the blankets of his bed to match the purple and yellow stripes of our matching ties, his hair was still the color of fire, his eyes were still the color of chocolate, the sincerity of him was the same, and I was determined to cling onto his vitality with every last ounce of strength that I had.

I was just so tired.

I was determined not to show it, though, not after George had already cared for me so diligently when I'd been too out of it to even think about masking just how unwell I was.

I pulled away and offered George the bravest smile I could find. "You said something about a snog?"

The door behind us shut with just a flick of George's wrist as he smiled back.

"Taking a page out of Lucy's wandless magic book, eh?" I teased.

"I don't want to think about anyone other than you right now," George replied as he pressed his lips to mine.

I melted, because what other choice did I have, when I was lucky enough to stand so close to the all-consuming fire that was George Weasley? I would burn, and I would burn happily, if that was what it meant to be his.

I reached, and I touched, and I burned. I caught fire against George's body, a helpless wanderer throwing himself upon the beacon that guided him to safety. The attention of George Weasley was seldom undivided, or so I thought, but in that moment, I was his, and he was mine, and nothing else mattered.

Unfortunately, our snogging was cut short by a call from downstairs.

"Henry?"

"Dad!" I shouted back, breaking away from George and practically flying down the stairs into my dad's arms. "Dad."

"Oh, Henry, my boy," Dad choked out. He held me so tight I feared my ribs would shatter in his grip, but he released me before they could. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good. Good."

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, then glanced behind me.

I turned to see George hovering shyly on the stairs, watching the two of us with so much warmth it was a wonder I didn't combust where I stood.

"Thank you for giving Henry a safe place to land," Dad said.

"Oh, there's no need for that, he's always welcome here under any circumstances," George replied. "You as well, and your daughter, of course. We don't — we have no way of knowing what the future holds, but, well, we can face it together. More easily now than before."

Dad nodded, then turned back to me. "Do you want to come back home with me? I don't — is there a procedure?" he asked with a small grin.

"Er — there's no procedure. It's just — I — there are people still out there looking for me. Archie too, but mostly me. If they go looking for me at home — I don't want you or Gretch to get caught in the crossfire. I know you can protect yourself, and I know you can protect her, but I — if something were to happen to you two because of me, I — I'd never — "

"I understand," Dad said, nodding. "I do, I understand. You boys have a good arrangement here. I know you can keep each other safe. Just knowing you're here is enough for me."

I swallowed hard. "Thanks, Dad. I'll go home one day, I promise, when this is all over."

Wordlessly, Dad pulled me close again, and we remained locked that way for a long time, neither of us able or willing to let go until our arms ached and trembled with the effort of holding on, and even beyond then. In time, though, Dad had to go to work, because not showing up would doom him even faster than his knowledge of my whereabouts. I let go more reluctantly than I ever had, and watched him leave with a yearning I hadn't felt since I was a small child.

I turned back to George and practically crumpled into his arms. There was nothing charged about it, the fire that snogging had sparked in me had diminished to embers, but the secure warmth of George was welcome regardless, a poker stirring up the coals in spite of my sorrow. What George Weasley set ablaze was not easily extinguished.

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

GEORGE:

In the days that followed, I reached for Henry often.

The spells of time where he would stare blankly off into space happened more often and lasted longer than they ever had before. I reached for him when they happened, because even if he didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, he always leaned into my touch. I never knew if it was a conscious decision or not, but it was a bit reassuring regardless, knowing he wasn't completely catatonic. The spells always passed and he always held my hand properly or cuddled with me afterward, but I still hated feeling so helpless every time I saw the emptiness in his eyes.

We shared my bed too, every night. I reached for Henry then too, whether I was awake or asleep. Every night, beneath the yellow and purple striped blankets, I reached for Henry, and he reached back, and we burned, a small fire protesting the cold that seeped into the world around us as winter drew ever nearer.

I reached for Henry in other ways too, smaller ways. I was always looking for excuses to be near him, to touch him, at the kitchen table and in the den and whenever our paths crossed as we went about our lives in the little flat that suddenly felt a lot less empty and cold.

We made the collective decision to confine Henry and Archie to the flat while Fred and I carried on, business as usual. They, understandably, felt bored and restless, so the Nintendo 64 was used for the first time in months. They helped fill mail orders too, but there was truly only so much to do. Henry's dad and Archie's parents visited whenever they could, which wasn't often, but it was better than nothing. We spent our days toiling away at whatever we could, with mail orders and Mario Kart, meals and merriment. Henry, in an oddly cheerful mood the day of the full moon, went so far as to declare that we ought to decorate for Christmas, so that evening, while we waited for the orb to screech with the news that Lucy was okay, the four of us decorated the flat to the best of our ability.

When the orb went off, I got there first, lunging across the table to shut it up. The others gathered around me. Henry and Archie both understood Morse code, but I read each word aloud anyway as the conversation began to take shape.

I'm okay, Lucy said.

Good. I'm here with Fred and Henry and Archie, I replied, narrating my reply out loud as I tapped it onto the ball. They all say hi.

An audience of more than two, that's new. Hi, glad you're all safe.

Archie and Henry say they're glad you're safe. Oh and they say thanks for the supplies and the note, it was appreciated.

Of course, she said. I had to do something. Henry feeling better?

Yeah, he's good. We're all good, aside from missing you. And everything else.

I understand the feeling.

How are the others holding up? I asked.

Lucy didn't reply for a long second. When her response finally came, my stomach dropped to my toes.

I've been warring with myself over whether or not to ask this, but have any of you seen or heard from Ron?

"What?" Fred demanded aloud. He frantically tapped the ball. No, why?

He left.

When? I tapped back.

A couple weeks ago. I didn't want to say anything and cause even more alarm, because I was sure you would tell me if you heard anything, but since Henry and Archie are there I thought maybe their paths would have crossed. I had to ask.

"Er — no, we didn't — " Archie shook his head. "We had no idea about any of that. Why would he leave?"

Is he okay? I asked.

Yes, he wasn't forced to leave, it was voluntary, we weren't attacked and separated or anything.

So what did he do? Fred asked.

I can't explain, but it wasn't his fault. I'm sure he's okay, I reckon we'd all know if he wasn't, but I was really hoping he'd just gone home. Harry hasn't seen him on the Map, he just checked again today, so I thought maybe he'd gone to the joke shop instead.

No, he's not here.

I buried my head in my hands as soon as I replied. What on earth had happened? I knew Ron, Ron was loyal, he could be a bit of a prick, yes, but I never would have imagined him willingly leaving his friends under any circumstances, especially not on their quest to save the world.

"It's okay," Henry said, resting a hand on my shoulder. "We'd know if he wasn't okay, it would be big news. If he hasn't made headlines yet, he's keeping a low profile. As far as the Ministry's concerned, he's still sick in the Burrow, right?"

"Right," I replied weakly. I glanced over at Fred, who'd just been tapping something to Lucy. "What'd you say?"

"I asked her if she wants us to look for him," Fred muttered.

Lucy's reply was immediate. No. If he's evaded capture so far, he must know what he's doing. I just worry, you know me. Maybe he'll go home for Christmas.

I'll hex him into oblivion if he does, Fred tapped aggressively. He should have stayed with you.

What's done is done, it's okay. I don't hold it against him. Lucy hesitated for a second before adding, Much.

"If she can't or won't, we will," Fred said out loud, raking his hands through his hair.

How are Harry and Hermione? I asked in an attempt to shift the conversation elsewhere before we all fell even deeper into despair.

Hermione's furious with Ron but otherwise alright. Harry's lonely without Ron but otherwise alright.

Harry has you, why would he be lonely? I replied.

Ha ha, very funny, George Weasley. I haven't been great company, I'm afraid. Too busy trying to save the world, you know?

You're too noble for your own good, Cub, Fred told her. Snog him already, that ought to lighten everyone's spirits. Except for Hermione's, maybe, initially, but she does love being right, so I reckon watching the two of you snog would be more of a victory than not.

That's even funnier, Fred Weasley. Well, I've loved catching up a bit, but I'm about to fall asleep and I'd rather not cause alarm when I do, so I will now bid you a good night. I love you all very much, and if I don't talk to you before then, have a merry Christmas and a happy new year and all of that.

We all collectively say ditto, I tapped out. We'll let you know if we hear anything about Ron.

Likewise. Good night.

Good night.

The orb didn't light up again, and one by one, we each sighed.

"I hope they find Ron first, that's all I'll say about that," Fred muttered.

I nodded. "My sentiments exactly. I hope Lucy specifically finds him first. Something tells me Hermione Granger would do more damage to him than all of You-Know-Who's forces combined."

Archie snorted. "She's one scary witch. I've always admired her."

"I second that," Henry added. He squeezed my shoulder. "Well... Lucy's okay. They're all okay, as far as we know, and that's... it's not much, but I think it's good."

"It is," I agreed. "It could be worse."

"And if that isn't the motto of the year, I don't know what is!" Archie declared. "Come on, let's make this place festive. Christmas Eve is ten days away, and I'll be damned if we're not, to quote Christmas Vacation, 'the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.'"

Henry blinked, a surprised laugh escaping him, while I exchanged a confused look with Fred.

"We're missing something," I said.

"I'll show the two of you that movie sometime," Archie replied dismissively. "Alright, on your feet, men, these halls won't deck themselves."

He was right, so I pushed myself up with another sigh and offered Henry a tired smile. He returned it, but that ever-present emptiness haunted his eyes. He was there, I could see him, I could touch him, I could hold him, I could hear him, I could love him, but something had changed. Being on the run had changed him. I had been too scared to ask what it was that was haunting him, I was too worried that the ghost had a name or, worse, that it didn't. I was scared of asking a question that had no good answer. So I watched, and I waited, hoping he would open up and say something, and I just kept loving him in the meantime. He was there, but something was different.

When Archie accidentally knocked into an ornament that shattered on the floor and Henry whipped out his wand, I had my answer.

He didn't feel safe yet. He didn't feel saved yet.

The realization punched a hole through my chest, but I didn't let myself feel defeated for long.

He was safe. As long as he was mine to protect, I would protect him with everything I had, even at the cost of my own life. And I'd prove that to him, one way or another. I'd save him over and over and over and over and over again, as many times as I could, because of all of the ways he'd saved me simply by loving me as he did.

I crossed the room with purposeful steps and stilled his shaking wand hand with my steady one, looking up into those haunted brown eyes with so much love I hoped I could chase the ghosts away.

"It's okay," I whispered. "You're safe, here, with me."

Henry nodded, struggling to breathe. "Safe. Right. Sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't apologize." I smiled and reached past him, into a drawer. I fished out a Walkman. "I gave Potterwatch a duplicate. I was not very willing to part with the original, from you."

Henry offered me a small, pleased smile. Encouraged, I cued up the same song that had brought him back to me. His small smile widened, and the music swelled around us. The peace we had in that moment was surely as fragile as the ornament that had smashed into a million little pieces, but that was alright. It was ours, and it was intact, and it was enough in that moment. We were safe, we were safe, we were safe, we were safe, we were safe.