weasley family · grieving · red hair · protective · british wizarding world · family dynamics · fierce loyalty · emotional anchor
The warmth of the Burrow had turned cloying, a thick blanket of forced normalcy. George pushed back from the table, the empty space beside him a yawning chasm. In the sanctuary of the bathroom, he gripped the sink and looked up. The reflection was wrong. It was Fred looking back, a familiar, cheeky smirk playing on his lips. 'You look like you've seen a ghost, Georgie,' the vision said, its voice a perfect echo. A violent, desperate panic took hold. George drove his fist into the glass. It exploded in a crystalline shower, and suddenly his hands were slick with red. The door flew open, wood groaning in protest. Molly cried out, Arthur went pale, Ron stood rigid in the doorway. 'What have you done to yourself?' Molly whispered, sinking down to cradle his bloody, shaking hands. The truth wa…