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fireworks

December 29

"Dammit!" George growled. He sucked his burnt finger and kicked the wall behind him. Then he sat back down on the floor, forcing himself to take deep breaths. He only had two days left, and still he hadn't gotten anywhere. He healed his finger with a quick tap of his wand and set back to work.


New Years Eve was approaching, and George had no intention of it turning out like Christmas had. Christmas had been melancholy and depressing, weighed heavy with thoughts of all the dear ones that had been lost at the Battle of Hogwarts. The downtrod atmosphere had nearly drowned George in his own grief; he'd only stayed long enough to open his presents, and then he'd trudged back up the stairs to his room and stayed there for the remainder of the day. It had been the most unhappy Christmas of his life.

He was determined that New Years would be different. He missed Fred, and he would probably miss him for the rest of his life, but it was time to move on. It was time to start living again.


He went back to the fireworks, purposely sitting so that his ear faced away from the door, so that if anyone was to call him he'd have the excuse of not being able to hear them. He didn't want anyone to bother him. Not that anyone would; they avoided him like a plague. His goal was to invent at least one new firework before New Years and demonstrate it for everyone after the countdown. His inventing skills seemed to have suffered somewhat since Fred's death, however; he'd never had so much trouble making something as simple as a firework.


George closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "This is ridiculous," he said aloud. "It's like my brain's not working... I can't even think of where to start."

You've just got to get your head back into it. George squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

"Go away, Fred," he muttered.

Funny, I thought you missed me, Fred's voice replied.

"Yeah. Too much. That's why I'm imagining your voice in my head," said George bitterly. He gave a humorless laugh. "No wonder they avoid me - I'm a bloody nutter."

All right then, nutter, that'll be enough of your melancholy mutterings. As I was saying; you can't make your firework because your head's not in it. More importantly, your heart's not in it. It's called passion, mate. We had a passion for our pranks, and that's why they always turned out so bloody brilliant. However, you seem to have misplaced some of your original passion, and now you're paying for it.

George sighed. "You're right. You're right, but..." George looked across the room at his twin's empty bed. "It's no fun without you," he mumbled.



December 30

George jumped. Someone was banging on the door. He grinned a little; whoever it was had probably been calling him for some time now. He got up and opened the door to see Ginny standing there.

Just as George had expected, she said, "I've only been calling you for the last age or so. You're not missing both of your ears, I know you could hear me."

"No, I really couldn't," George said truthfully. "What do you want?"

"Dad wants to talk to you," she said.

"Just Dad, right?" George asked, immediately cautious. "Not... Mum, too?"

Ginny shrugged. "It's supposed to just be you and Dad, but you know Mum'll try and eavesdrop."

George sighed. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Er..."

"Now, huh?" Ginny nodded. George sighed again. "All right."


George's father was waiting for him in the shed, which was completely packed with random Muggle items.

"You wanted to see me?" George said. Arthur Weasley looked up from the spark plug he'd been tinkering with and gave George a strained smile. Strained though it was, however, it was sincere. George half-smiled in return.

"Hello, George," said Arthur. "Just wanted to see you. You spend so much time cooped up in your room - "

"I could say the same thing about you and this shed," returned George with a grin. His father grinned back.

"Yes, yes, I suppose you could," he said, "but I was beginning to think that you staying up there isn't just about needing your space anymore, is it?"

George shook his head. "I decided to start... working again," he said, and he knew his father knew what he meant. Arthur's smile widened.

"Good for you, son!" he said.

George nodded. "Yeah, I figured it was time to get on with life, y'know?" George was about to explain further, but his father was nodding and he knew that he already understood.

"Remarkable," Arthur said, his voice sounding a little hoarse. "Of all of us Fred's death probably hit you the hardest of all, and yet you've recovered so much faster than the rest of us." George averted his gaze; his father's eyes were laced with tears.

George took a deep breath. "Dad," he said, "Fred wouldn't have wanted us sad for the rest of our lives." Then George snorted laughter. "Now that's a concept Mum will never grasp."

They looked at each other, then started laughing. They laughed and laughed for fifteen whole minutes. It was a good laugh; a cleansing laugh.

"You're absolutely right," Arthur said as he tried to catch his breath. "About Fred, and about your mother." He smirked on the word "mother," which started George laughing again. This time he stopped much sooner, though, and a companionable silence stretched between father and son.

"So, what're you working on?" Arthur finally asked. "In your room, I mean; what is it you're trying to make?"

George shrugged. He figured it'd be all right to tell one person about the surprise he'd planned. "A firework," he said, "I was thinking of making this new, spectacular firework and showing everyone at midnight tomorrow. Thing is it's... not coming along so well."

Arthur nodded slowly. "Would you like some help?"

George mulled it over. "You know what? Yeah. I'd like that."

Arthur smiled. "Well then, we'd better get started! Hide it in a box and bring it in here - if your mother sees you give her any story but don't tell her where I am or what we're doing!"

George laughed. As if he could honestly think I'd tell Mum about this. "All right. Thanks Dad."

"My pleasure, son."



New Years Eve

Everyone roared with laughter, and George practically glowed with satisfaction. His efforts were paying off; it was nothing like Christmas.

The first difference was the amount of people. Most of the family friends had wanted to spend Christmas in their own homes, but it seemed that everyone George knew was here to spend New Years at the Burrow. The only person left to arrive was Harry Potter, and he should be there any minute.

The second difference, which was far more jarring than the first, was the upbeat atmosphere. Everyone was cheerful; there wasn't a sad face among them. The group was gathered outside around a bonfire, which was kept in check by Charlie. There were several different conversations going on at once, and not a one of them was somber. Joyous laughter rang out from every direction, and George fed off the sounds of merriment like a fire feeds on oxygen. For the first time in a long time, he was the life and soul of the party.


He was just about to dazzle his audience with another of his crazy antics when he heard the crack! of someone Apparating. He turned and smiled when he saw who had finally arrived.

"And here he is! The man of the hour!" George called, racing up to Harry and slinging an arm over his shoulder. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the destroyer of the Dark Lord!" It was a risky introduction to make so soon after the tragedies at Hogwarts, but George's heart soared when it was greeted with roaring cheers rather than the shocked silence he'd expected.

The only person who seemed a little uncomfortable with George's words was Harry himself. George cringed when he saw Harry's face and immediately regretted the dramatic intro. Harry had suffered more than all of them, and the last thing he probably wanted was to be reminded of that. George saw the misery that dimmed Harry's startling green eyes; the overwhelming grief that resided in those emerald pools. Though he was only seventeen, Harry's eyes looked a million years old.

"Er, sorry mate," George said. "I suppose I got a bit carried away."

Harry smiled weakly. "It's all right, don't worry about it."

"So er, Happy New Year! It's been a while; how are you?"

Harry shrugged. "Better," he said. "You?"

"Much better," George said, smiling.

Harry smiled back. "That's great."

George opened his mouth to say something else when he noticed Ginny approaching. "All right, well, enjoy the night! Eat, socialize, be merry!" he said, giving Harry a clap on the back and then letting him be.

As he walked away, he drew an Extendable Ear out of his pocket. Just because he knew when people wanted privacy didn't necessarily mean he intended on letting them have it. He picked an inconspicuous position by the snack table and stretched out the Extendable Ear and listened.


"Er, hey Ginny," said Harry's voice.

"Hi Harry. Good Christmas?" asked Ginny's.

"Yeah. Thanks for the book, it's great!" said Harry with enthusiasm that sounded a bit forced.

"I thought you'd like it," said Ginny.

"Well, you thought right."

There was an awkward silence. Then both Harry and Ginny started talking at once.

"Ginny - "

"Harry, I wanted to - "

They both laughed. "You go first," said Ginny.

"Ginny..." George craned his neck so he could see the couple in the distance. Harry had taken Ginny's hand. George grinned, and rather than feeling the usual protective reflex, he felt happy about what he was seeing.

Harry's really the one for her, he realized.

"V-Voldemort's gone," said Harry, and George heard a faint tremor of emotion in his voice. "All the danger, everything's... It's over..." Harry's face was as bewildered as his voice, but Ginny was smiling. George smiled too.

"Yeah. Weird, huh?" said Ginny, and Harry smiled his first real smile of the night.

"Extremely." Harry looked at his feet and was silent for a long time. He seemed to be searching for words. After a while, however, he must have realized that words could never fully express what he had to say; he leaned forward and kissed her.


George pulled back the Extendable Ear and returned it to his pocket. I think I've intruded on their privacy for long enough. Harry and Ginny spent the rest of the party hand-in-hand.


"C'mon, c'mon, quickly! It's almost time!" said a breathless Arthur Weasley. George laughed at his father's enthusiasm as the two of them set up the fireworks. George could feel his mother's eyes on them, but he hardly cared right now - he was practically bouncing with anticipation.

"All right, done!" said George. He checked his watch. Two minutes until midnight. They'd finished in the nick of time.

"Dad!" George called. Arthur turned, and George hugged him. "Thank you so much."

Arthur cleared his throat. "You're, erm... You're welcome, son."

Then Mrs. Weasley's magically magnified voice reached them: "Everyone! Everyone! If you would all please gather round the bonfire: it's only one minute until midnight!"

All the people at the party slowly congregated around the fire, chattering excitedly. Then the counting began.


"Ten! Nine!"

George grinned his trickster's grin.

"Eight! Seven!"

His knees were shaking with excitement now.

"Six! Five!"

He suppressed the laughter bubbling up inside of him.

"Four! Three!"

This was it... This is it!

"Two! ONE!!"


New Years Day

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!" George cried at the top of his voice, and with a flourish of his wand the air exploded with color.

The first few fireworks were old favorites: the pinwheels and the ones that wrote shimmering words in the air (these, however, said things like "Happy New Year" and "1998" rather than swear words and declarations against Dolores Umbridge.) Then he released the two he and his father had constructed the night before.

The first sent coils of light that looked like giant magenta springs through the air so that they surrounded the party like a dome. As the firework went up cheers filled the air - the cheers however, weren't coming from the awestruck audience; they came from the firework itself.

The second firework burst into hundreds of glittering birds, all of different shapes and colors. They soared through the crowd and perched upon each person's shoulder until everyone had their very own fiery companion resonating warmth over them.


George smiled breathlessly as he surveyed the amazed faces of everyone in the crowd. "Happy New Year, everyone," he said again. The shocked silence continued for a minute more. Then the yard was filled with earsplitting cheers.


Harry and Ginny were among the first to approach George and Mr. Weasley with their praise.

"George!" Ginny squealed, wrapping her brother in a tight embrace. Upon her shoulder was a dazzling bluebird. "George those were the best ever! They were brilliant! Oh, you did such a wonderful job!"

"Thanks, getting the birds so that they wouldn't burn people was the hardest part," George said, beaming. "But it wasn't just me. Dad helped a lot." At these words Ginny released George and threw herself upon her father.

"So, what'd you think, Harry?" George asked. Harry was smiling like George had never seen him smile. The misery George had seen in his eyes when he had first arrived was almost completely gone, overshadowed by his child-like joy. A regal scarlet phoenix perched upon his shoulder.

"Brilliant! I think I can seriously say you've truly outdone yourself this time!" Harry exclaimed. George shrugged, then laughed.

"Well, I hope I've made your New Years experience something to remember," George said.

Harry laughed. "I think you've got that category pretty much covered. No one's going to forget this."

same here, same here!! I ALMOST teared up a bit just because it's so happy and sad at the same time! But it's so good! I wish i could capture emotion and channel it into something productive!

As always, Rams wows us with her talent!