III
'Emergency'

"Your addiction is okay,
'cause it's medically approved,
and the night has expired.
Lay me down to sleep.
But one more thing, can you say 'addiction'?
Well, I can admit my guilt.
Emergency. Oh, emergency,
it's whispered at night."

As far as post-war New Years Eve parties went, the Weasleys' one was actually okay, at least in Katie's own humble opinion. Not that she was enjoying it all that much though; there were too many happy people, laughing and smiling and kissing, like hundreds of wizards and witches, many of them once a part of their number, hadn't been murdered since the last New Years Eve.

She supposed that, like her, they were all trying to find closure, and so she resigned herself to half-heartedly join in on the proceedings, if only so that one of them could find the closure they needed and could stop feeling the way she did. It was unlikely though, she thought, as she watched Angelina miserably rearrange her potatoes so that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't berate her for not eating. Sometimes the pain wasn't so quick to go away.

In fact, as she looked around, she realised that there wasn't nearly as much happiness as she'd first thought there was… Percy was huddled in a corner arm chair clutching a bottle of wine as if he thought it would dull the edge of his loss; Ginny and Harry were sitting out on the lawn talking quietly, the latter of which seemed to be trying to comfort his girlfriend; Ron and Hermione, though dancing, were not looking enthusiastic in the slightest; and Andromeda Tonks sat silently in the corner nursing baby Teddy Lupin, tears coursing down her cheeks.

'I'm going to go and find George,' she whispered quietly in Oliver's ear, and detaching his arm from around her waist, quietly slipped out of the dining room.

Padding up the rickety wooden staircase, she walked briskly down the corridor to the last room on the left and gingerly opened the door, waiting for George's harsh reprimand for his most recent unwelcome visitor.

It didn't come.

Slipping around the door and then closing it behind her, she felt her face split into a tender smile as she spotted the ginger-haired boy fast asleep in his bed. He was awkwardly positioned, as if he'd drifted off sitting up and then had gradually sunk lower until the top half of his body was sort of in a twisted lying pose.

Tip-toeing over to the bed, she sat down beside his unorthodoxly dozing body and gently began to rearrange his limbs and spine so he wouldn't be in complete and utter agony when he awoke. It was only after she'd done this that she realised how peaceful he looked… it was as though The Last Battle had never happened and he would wake with Fred in the next bed, snoring nasally, like she knew he did - had.

Reaching out, she gently brushed a stray lock of red hair from his face, before lowering her body down beside his and curling up in the limited amount of space his lanky frame had not taken up.

It was strange, lying down beside George… it wasn't like curling up in Oliver's embrace, his large, warm body enveloping hers easily, and it certainly wasn't like sharing a bed with Fred, whose lanky body, so like his twin's, now seemed, in retrospect, completely different. George's was bony in places Fred's never had been, his knees and chin were sharp and jutted into her forehead and shins, and neither of his long arms were draped over her hips like Fred's right one had always done, warding off any impending nightmares or hours of wide-eyed insomnia.

But, somehow, in the midst of all these differences, it was strangely comforting.

Heaving a sigh, she tossed her head of long, chestnut waves slightly before letting her eyelids droop and before she could allow another troubled thought of Fred cross her mind, she was drifting off into a light doze, her small body tucked into the recesses of George's lanky one.

-x-x-x-

It was the uncomfortably stringy, strangely unnerving feeling of having hair caught between one's teeth that woke George from his slumber.

Grimacing, he lay still for a moment, his ginger lashes fluttering on his freckled cheeks until, reluctantly, they opened, and he sat bolt upright, spluttering, one hand reaching up into his mouth to fish out of it, several long chestnut strands that definitely did not belong to him.

He looked at them, frowning for a moment before the softest of snores reached his remaining ear, and he looked down to see Katie of all people, lying curled up beside where his sleeping form had once lain; her facial expression peaceful as she gently dozed on. He felt something within him constrict as he watched her sleep, a quiet envy of being that carefree while he, himself, was still tormented, even within seconds of waking up.

For one wild second he considered waking her, anything to take from her what he wanted more than anything in the world – ignorance. Not that he thought she was ignorant, but she looked ignorant and untouched by all that had happened to them as she lay there, her wild chestnut hair strewn about her face. But the abrupt, sinister desire quickly vanished, instead filled by a rush of friendly affection for her as he gently got up from the bed, pulled the covers over her and sat down in the armchair in the middle of the room, from which he watched her silently.

Several minutes later, she twitched in her sleep, and as if panicking that her body had not made contact with his, she woke up suddenly, wild-eyed as she cast around, looking for him. Her gaze finally drifting over to where he sat unmoving in the armchair, she began to breathe more steadily, though a flush of colour rose in her cheeks as she realised he knew what she'd done.

'Oh George, I'm sorry, I just –' she started, but was interrupted.

'It's all right,' he said quietly, 'I don't mind.'

She looked embarrassed but slightly relieved as she shifted her body so that it was leaning against the headboard.

'Get sick of the party, then?' he asked dully, reaching over the side of the armchair and picking up a fake wand, which he began to fiddle with listlessly.

'Yeah, kind of,' she replied, looking quite awkward again, 'but I actually came to see you.'

'You came upstairs to sleep in my bed?' he said, raising one ginger eyebrow as she flushed slightly.

'No! No, just… just to see how you were.'

Ah, there it was, thought George as he sat there looking at her, one eyebrow still arched; there it was… she too, was in on the ongoing "save George" project. Well, he wasn't having a bar of it.

'I'm fine thank you,' he said coldly, getting to his feet and moving towards the door again.

'I'm not leaving,' she whispered so softly he thought he'd almost imagined her saying it, 'you can - you can be horrible and act like you don't want me here, but I'm not leaving, George. You're the only person that understands what I'm going through, and try as you might not to, eventually you'll realise I know what you're going through too.'

'Have you ever lost a twin?' he asked indignantly, forcibly reminded of yesterday when he'd sent Ginny to tears.

'No,' she said evenly, 'but that isn't going to work on me: I'm not Ginny.'

He faltered, staring at her.
'How d'you -?'

'I was talking to her earlier and she told me what you said,' Katie replied, 'I don't blame you for it, I would've said the same thing were I in your position, but she was only trying to help George… they're all only trying to help.'

'Says you, who took off on Oliver today and nearly gave him a heart attack,' he threw back at her, slightly ashamed but trying to hide it.

'Yes,' she said, continuing on bravely although she looked as if she was going to fall to pieces any minute, 'but I've realised now that they're only trying to help… that Oliver and Ginny and your mother and my grandmother – they're all only trying to help.'

'Help with what!?' George burst out, throwing his arms up into the air, 'I – am – fine!'

'No you're not!' she cried, tossing the covers away and getting to her feet, 'you are still feeling guilty, aren't you?'

'Well, you are addicted to your own misery!' he retorted loudly, leering down at her as she stomped up to him, in a completely un-George-like way.

They stood there, glaring at each other for what seemed like hours, before Katie broke the tense silence first by bursting into tears. As she looked up at him through streaming eyes, she flashed him a look so like the one Ginny had sported on her face yesterday that it made him feel nauseous, before proceeding to march over to the door, wrench it open and disappeared behind it with a quaking slam.

It took several seconds for him to register what had happened before he snapped back to reality with a grounding jolt and hurried out of the room, following the sounds of her sobbing as she stumbled down the stairs, through the house full of guests and then burst outside into the bitterly cold evening, where she ran through the decorated backyard and scrambled over the fence.

Weaving between tables and dancing people, not stopping to answer the bewildered questions people were calling out to him, he sprinted down to the fence, vaulted over it in one clean leap and chased Katie's dark form as it began to fade into the shadows.

'Katie, wait!'

Turning around, she slowed to a stop, waiting for him to catch up with her, which he did in due time, wheezing and spluttering in the icy chill of the wind as it swept past them, tossing her chestnut hair around her face.

'Not as fit as you used to be, eh?' she remarked with a watery smile.

He shook his head, unable to talk, before flopping down into the wet grass of the hill with a heaving sigh. She followed his example, allowing her body to crumple backwards and hit the sopping grass with a squelchy thud.

'I miss Fred,' she said after several minutes of silence, startling George out of his reverie.

'So do I,' he replied softly, gazing up at the stars as they winked overhead.

'I don't like feeling like this,' she whispered, turning her head to look at him, 'but I think somewhere something inside me thinks that if I keep on like this that he'll come back just so I won't have to live the rest of my life this way.'

'Sometimes, just before I start trying to sleep, I think about what would've happened if it had been me instead,' he said hoarsely, fighting back the tears, 'would people be as upset? And then sometimes I feel angry at him, like I used to when he was still here, because everyone always liked him more… I was quieter, less funny…'

'You don't really think that, do you George?' Katie asked, horrified, as she looked at him.

'Sometimes I do.'

'I never,' she started, unsure of what to say, 'I never meant for it to be that way… Fred was just there, you know? Kind of like Alicia is for you – he knew exactly what was wrong when I was upset, knew the best way to help me go to sleep… and although I love Oliver with every part of me, Fred was my special friend… nothing more, nothing less.'

'I understand,' he said quietly, wiping away a stray tear that Katie had enough tact to pretend not to notice, 'although Alicia's still here, she's not exactly helping me out at the moment.'

'She'll be able to in time… she has a lot to deal with right now, as well.'

'Yeah…'

There was another silence, in which they both lay there, gazing up at the stars, before Katie broke it once again.

'Have you been sleeping at night?'

'No,' he replied with a heavy sigh, 'I haven't been able to since – since it happened.'

'Me neither,' she said, 'I mean, I've been able to sleep for little bits at a time, but never a full night through.'

'Exactly,' he said, 'that's exactly how it's been for me.'

Reaching out, she gently took his hand in hers.
'See? I told you we had more in common than you thought…'

'Katie?' he asked hesitantly.

'George?'

'Do you-do you think that maybe, when I try to go to sleep tonight, you would mind maybe staying with me?'

Turning to look at him, she smiled.
'I think I'd like that.'

Emergency. Oh, emergency,
it's whispered at night…

A/N: lyrics - 'Emergency' by Umbrellas.

dedicated to anyone who's ever lost someone. x