"You hissed," Fred mumbles.

"Sorry?" I ask, lying down next to him.

His ceiling is nothing special, but I feel like I'm staring up at the stars.

"When I touched your leg," he points out, his voice barely a whisper.

"I got splinched," I tell him.

I turn on to my side to look at him. He opens one eye, barely, looking at me. I can see the frown on his face. He purses his lips and leans closer to me.

I lean over and kiss him on the forehead, and then on the lips. He smirks, and lowers himself back on to the pillow, relaxing into it.

For some time, I lie down with him. I stroke his hair, and periodically kiss his cheek. When he falls asleep, I continue to lie down next to him.

Then, I'm thirsty. I get up to go get water.

Once my clothes are on, I enter the kitchen. George is sitting at a chair by the fireplace, with only the light of the fire illuminating his face. He is engulfed in shadows. He looks up at me, closing the book in his lap and putting it on the side table. George leans forward.

"Hello," I say, as he stares me down.

"Hello," he stands up and crosses the room so that he is next to me.

As I reach up to grab a glass, he pulls two down with magic and fills them with water from the tap. He takes them both and passes me one. I take it from him, my thirst suddenly quenched.

"Thank you," I manage.

He smirks, before bringing the glass to his lips. "How're you? It's been months."

"I've been busy," I tell him. "Working at the ministry, you know. That sort of stuff."

He cocks an eyebrow and then puts his glass down. "You know Larkin, I care about you like family, but Fred doesn't deserve this."

I copy his movements, putting the glass down on the counter. I stare at it as the water swishes back and forth in the glass. "Deserve what, exactly?"

"Your constant back and forth," George elaborates. He leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. "You act like a blood traitor when it suits you. We don't have that luxury."

"I know," I tell George.

"No," George points out. "You don't. For the first time in our lives we have money, and most of it goes back to supporting our Mum and Dad. Did you know that we couldn't afford to buy Ron a wand?"

I didn't know that. Rather than admit it, I take a step away from George. He's right; Fred doesn't deserve my back and forth. "What has that got to do with me?"

"You can't just choose to have money when it suits you," George says. He runs a hand through his ginger hair, before returning to the crossed arm position. "What do you even stand for except your own survival?"

There is no anger in his voice, and that's what upsets me. He sounds exasperated like he's tsking a child rather than having an argument with me. I'm used to passion. When Fred and I fight, it's like the sun has exploded. It's hot, everywhere because passion burns.

George has no passion for me. He just has despair.

"I really have empathy for your position," George says. "It must be hard to give up everything. I'd just appreciate it if you didn't string my brother along every time."

"Are you trying to get me to leave him?" I ask.

George purses his lips. "I'm just saying, if you leave him again, you're a shithead. And, you won't be coming back."

"I'm not leaving again," I tell them, thinking of what my brother did. I realize I probably should've reported him to the Aurors, but who would they believe? The only proof that I have is that I've splinched myself. Besides, the current administration in the Ministry isn't exactly a fan of blood traitors, or muggle-borns, or even half-bloods to some extent.

"I want to believe you, Larkin," he says, frowning. "But how do I know that? How does Robbie know that? Don't you think Fred will always be wondering if he's going to wake up with you gone again?"

I swallow. The room is too dark. I want to look anywhere but George, but the fireplace doesn't emit enough light for me to get a good look at the bookshelf, or the cabinets. Instead, I look down at my feet.

"I was trying to make things up to my Mum," I admit. If my brother can break his last promise to her, then so can I.

"And you took everyone else down with you," George points out. "You seem to make everything about you. Don't you realize how you make others feel?"

Not always. Not often enough. When I get angry, I become a whole different beast entirely. I hate that about myself. Only now am I old enough to recognize that every mistake I've made has been out of anger. Hexing Bronwyn, and leaving Fred. All of them a rash decision, made in the heat of the moment.

"Do you think he still loves me?" I ask George.

"Unfortunately," George points out. "He's forgiving you easier than he's ever forgiven anyone before. I know him better than I know myself, Lark. He's never ever made amends with someone so quickly. I think he suspects that something bad happened, and that's why you left. After all, it's why you left last time, isn't it?"

Yes and no. I barely remember why I left the first time; it was so long ago. I know it was in part because my brother cursed me, but also because they expected me to marry Marcus, and also because nobody would protect me from me. Actually, I left for quite the same reasons this time, although this time he used an unforgivable curse after I'd already made my mind up.

"If I tell you what happened, will you promise not to tell Fred?" I ask. "I hate when he pities me, I really do. I want to earn back my spot in his life, not just get it."

George nods, and so I divulge the story. I begin with the promise I made my mother on her death bed, and then delve into the months I spent wandering the mansion, though I mostly skim that part. Finally, I reveal that my friends all seem to be living miserable lives, and that I couldn't bear that for myself. When I went to leave, my brother used the cruciatus curse on me, which resulted in my splinching, and now I'm back.

"I assume that you've put on weight since leaving that manor," George says, and then he winces. "Sorry if that's a bit insensitive. I'm just trying to say that you look healthy again."

"I waited until I felt better to come back," I say, even though my spine is straight and my hands folded perfectly in front of me. Everything is put in place, including my clothes even though I haphazardly put them on. I can't take the girl in the manor out of me, no matter how hard I try. "Also, Robbie doesn't even know that stuff, so I'd appreciate if you didn't tell her."

"I rarely talk to Robbie," he furrows his brow. "We were mates in school, but never close. We only hang out so that we aren't stuck with you and Fred."

"So, you were never involved romantically?" I ask. When he nods, I continue. "Then who did Robbie date at Hogwarts?"

Rushed footsteps enter the hall behind us, interrupting our conversation. Fred comes stumbling out. When he sees me, he relaxes. "Oh. You're still here."

I look from George to Fred and smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

~~~~~

I'm really excited for Larkin to be back. Her journey with her parents has been rough, and I could end the story here, but of course there is more to tell! Hopefully you'll join me.

Do you think Larkin is here to say?