George Weasley's Worst Week (3/3) COMPLETE

[PaperThings]

A/N: Requested by Zane . Obviously, don't read on if you haven't read the book/seen the movie. There are two more parts, to be written shortly. Sorry the sneezes don't appear until the end of the chapter... I promise the next one will have many more (and also more of the rest of the Weasley family, and more hurt/comfort in general.)

-2 Days After the Battle-

George sighed and pressed a pillow over his lone ear, attempting to block out the scuttle of his mother moving about downstairs. All outside noise was a reminder that there was a life going on - a life Fred was no longer a part of; a life he was no longer sure he wanted a part in either. He had not emerged from their - no, his - bedroom in the forty eight hours since the battle. Upon their return to the Burrow, he had traipsed up to their - his - room and shut the door, locking it with a spell he knew his family would not try to break. They would give him space as long as he wanted it. And that's what troubled him.

Fred wouldn't have given him space. If it had been someone else who had died, another brother or Ginny or one of their parents, he and Fred would have grieved together. It would have been horrible, yes, life-changing, of course, but it would not have left him so impossibly lost. And so he stayed in bed, ignored the trays of tea and toast his mother left by the door, and tried to ignore the empty, unmade bed across the room.

Sooner or later, he knew he would have to join the rest of the family. There was the funeral to worry about: Fred's headstone and the eulogy. Just thinking about it made him feel nauseous. Not to mention, he would eventually have to think about the other lives lost as well. Remus and Tonks would have their own funerals; he didn't doubt Hogwarts would hold a memorial for the collective lives lost.

But today he couldn't handle it. The thought of it, of the days and months and years of grief to come, felt like a physical weight, pressing him to the bed. He had fallen asleep in tears again - for it seemed night was the only time he felt raw enough to cry - and he felt congested, physically exhausted. For a few minutes, falling back asleep seemed like a good idea.

"George?"

Someone knocked on the door. George opened one eye, shocked that someone had dared. So far it had felt a bit as if he were under quarantine. "George, it's Percy. Bill and I are heading over to Hogwarts, to see about helping with the restoration. Would - would you like to come with us?"

George sighed. Since the battle, Charlie, Percy, Bill and Fleur had all moved temporarily back into the Burrow. Until after the funeral, at least, and Percy would probably stay longer. "I don't think I will," George called back, proud of how strong his voice sounded.

"All right, then," Percy said, trying not to sound too disappointed. "Well... I'll see you later."

"Yeah," George sighed after a moment, when he was sure Percy had gone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a box of puking pastilles. The sight of them caused a pressure to well in his head, cutting momentarily through the hollow sensation that seemed to reign over him. It was sometimes hard to tell which was worse - the numbness or the searing pain.

George did little more than stare at the ceiling for the next hour, trying not to think about anything. Not about the shop, which he wasn't even sure he could keep open now; not about their old friends, who would surely have no idea what to say to him now. Mostly, he tried to not think about anything involving Fred. And that anything, for him, was everything. And so he couldn't think at all. In an hour's time, he felt the nothingness had expanded, grown and grown until his insides were cold, lifeless. He curled into a ball against the blankets, shivering, somehow incapable of tugging them around him for warmth.

"George?" Not again. "George, it's your mum."

Who else's mum would it be? he almost joked. But then, that didn't seem right. Knowing they would eventually simply barge in, whether he wanted it or not, he called out, "Yes?"

"I have some tea for you," she said. "May I bring it in?"

It was nearly funny, hearing Molly use such a polite voice. She had never asked his permission to walk anywhere before; she just wasn't that sort of person.

"I suppose so," he said gruffly, hoping she wouldn't hear. But the door did indeed click open, and he heard her start towards him.

"George," she whispered, tentative, "I - " She stopped for such a long time that he peeked up at her. "George dear, are you all right?"

He felt his mouth fall open, shocked, debating whether to glorify that question with a response. Realizing her mistake, she flushed and backtracked. "No, no, dear, I meant - are you feeling all right? You look ill."

It was then George realized that his teeth were chattering, and he was, in fact, physically chilled. He let his mother wrap his blankets around him and place the cup of hot tea in his hands. "This ought to help," she said worriedly, sitting beside him. He realized she was waiting for him to take a sip and so he took one, his insides reacting negatively to the first drop of nourishment he'd had since - since that night.

"Thank you," he said softly, and heard her inhale shakily beside him.

"Your welcome, dear," she said. It was then he noticed that her eyes were rimmed in red, and that she was probably the one person in this house taking this almost as hard as he was. Then he remembered Percy's agonized sobs each night, the ones he could hear through the wall, and the way Ron's face had looked that night, so young and so shattered. Maybe not.

They didn't speak. She didn't try to push him as he drank the tea, didn't ask for him to come downstairs and join the others. He almost wanted to ask her how the others were doing. Was Ginny all right? Was Bill attempting to take on all the responsibility, as he always did? Did Harry blame himself, as George suspected he might? But he was afraid to ask, because he was afraid to know. If his siblings were broken too, then maybe, just maybe, this was real after all.

When he finished the cup, she took it back from him and smiled sadly. She left the room then, slowly, as if she didn't want to leave him but felt afraid he would ask her to eventually. George lay under the blankets now, still cold, and fell back asleep within moments.

-3 days after the battle-

"George? George!"

"Mmmm?" He opened his eyes, for a moment disoriented. It had been like this each morning so far: he would wake up and, for a split-second, not remember what had happened. Then it all fell apart once more.

"I'm sorry." Hermione was standing in the doorway, looking absolutely petrified. Her hair was a great deal bushier than usual, and her eyes wide. "We were just worried. You weren't responding when we knocked and, well..."

"They thought I was going to off myself, did they?" George snickered humorlessly. Hermione turned a miserable red and he felt shame wash over him, self-hatred for doing that to her. "Sorry," he muttered. "Anyway, what time is it?"

"Nearly noon."

"On what day?"

"May 7th."*

"Blimey, I slept through all of yesterday?" George asked. "And last night?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You were sleeping, then?"

"Yeah, I was." George tried to sit up, but the effort made his head throb. He winced, scrubbing at his nose with a fist. "Come to think of it, I suppose I do feel a bit ill." It was such a simple sentence, but that alone filled him with a wretched nostalgia. The last time he'd been sick had been almost ten months ago, when the shop was still open. He had been sick first, and Fred had cared for him, bringing him soup and fresh handkerchiefs in bed. Then he had gotten sick, of course, and George had cared for him in the same way. But they'd been lucky; it had worked out so they never had to close the shop at all.

"Well..." Hermione said tentatively. "Your Mum wanted to know if you'd like to come down for breakfast? It's a bit late but I think there are some sausages left."

George toyed with the idea. He didn't really feel like seeing all of his family, all at once, but he felt as if he needed a change of scenery. Was it possible to make yourself sick, simply from staying in the same place too long? "Yeah, all right," he sighed at last. "Is... is everyone around?"

Hermione, beaming at his agreement, shook her head. "No, not at all! Only Ron and I. And Ginny, but she's in her room." Her expression looked a bit cloudy, and George wondered if Ginny had been avoiding the outside world as well. "Harry and the others all went to Hogwarts.

Standing up proved a bit of a problem. George grew instantly woozy, and almost fell back down again. "No, I'm all right," he said, shaking his head and Hermione's outstretched hands. "Thank you, though." He sighed and followed her down to the table, rubbing at his face all the while. His nose had grown preposterously itchy, as it sometimes did when he and Fred experimented with different potions in their laboratory.

Ron and Molly were both at the table, evidently waiting for him. Ron's face, George noticed, was gaunt and white, his eyes slightly puffy around the edges. George also noticed the way he and Hermione squeezed hands before she sat down. Took them long enough, he thought grudgingly.

"So, where are the sausages I was prom - " Without warning, the itch in his nose rose up, suddenly dominating him more than any other thought or feeling. "...prom - prom hih prom-heh!- ised?" The attempt at composure was futile and he felt his mouth twist open against his will. His breath hitched, toying with him for what seemed ages longer than it was. "Hehh - hehhSHUH!" The sneeze caught him so violently that he flew forward, hands cupped around his mouth for some control. "Ennhh-SHUH! EhhSHUHH!" The last one cleared him temporarily, a thick resistance of mucus building up inside his nose. His head aching, he resisted the urge to reach up and simply pull at his nose; he would rip it off if it meant alleviating that fickle claw of itchiness inside it.

"Let me find you a handkerchief, dear," Molly said and sprung from the table.

George moaned softly, pressing the heels of his hand into his itching eyes. *Wonderful*, he thought to himself. *Absolutely brilliant, in fact.* It felt as if the world were poking him, laughing at him. Exacting revenge for the score of years that Fred and George had laughed at it.

A/N: As I said, the rest will be up soon. Thank you so much for reading, and I really hope you like it, Zane (and everybody else )!

*I'm like, 90% sure it would be May 7th. Because the Battle happened on May 2nd, but it ran past midnight, so they'd logically get home probably on the 4th or so, and then this is three nights after that. Yeah, I'm a perfectionist .

Edited October 30, 2011 by NarnieSmile

[Spoo]

Geeeoooyooorggeeee! Yes, I am aware there isn't a 'Y' in George's name, but it adds more of an emphasis that way. Wow, Narnie. That was fantastic! I love the tone and emotion in this piece so far. You capture the characters and their emotions excruciatingly well. Your details are superb! Maybe it's my inner angst-whore, but I adore the setting of this story - specifically how everyone is still hurting and coping over lost lives. I can't wait for more!

Spoo~

[Always]

Ahhhhh, this makes me sad!

But I will say, NarnieSmile, that your writing is perfection as always!

Thanks for writing this, can't wait for more!

[Zane]

Oh my gosh this is amazing! I love it! poor George! Thank you sooooooooooooo much for writing this! I so can't wait for you to continue! I also agree that you captured the emotions and characters perfectly!

[snuffle-bunny]

I agree with what's already been said, you write each character perfectly! I'm looking forward to the next part.

[Dusty15]

Oooooh I know I said I might attempt the same plotline but this is so damn good I might have to hold off until people start to forget it

Can't wait to read more!

[EliGirl]

Wow, this is great! I saw Zane's request and I was really hoping someone would answer it...and you did and it's awesome!

[Galaxy]

Oh, this is a marvelous beginning! I absolutely love all the emotions you packed into it. Poor George, having to mourn and deal with a cold all at once. It's not often that a sneeze!fic can make me feel any deep emotions, but this was did that and more! Earnestly, I can't wait for the continuation, I'm sure it'll be just as magnificent.

[Anonymouse]

You had me bawling by the third paragraph and I'm really not that into Harry Potter. Just the their - no, his stuff was so freaking sad. That's what made it the most upsetting death for me. You describe the bleakness of losing a loved one perfectly.

I got so absorbed in the story that I almost forgot it was a sneezefic. Definitely no problem saving the sneezes til the end of the chapter.

"So, where are the sausages I was prom - " Without warning, the itch in his nose rose up, suddenly dominating him more than any other thought or feeling. "...prom - prom hih prom-heh!- ised?"

Aaah so cute! Poor thing.

[27jj]

Oh. Wow. This is just INCREDIBLE.

Firstly, you are a great writer, and the characters are fabulous. And the setting for this fic? I seriously cried like a baby when Fred died OH GEORGEEEE.

I LOVE all the angst and emotions you captured here, and then that George is sick on top of it all? POOR MUFFIN. (The great little part there at the end, with George trying to talk and having to sneeze at the same time? Gahhhh )

Ahh you are brilliant. I haven’t read many HP fics, but THIS. This one is my favorite. I just want to wrap it up in a blanket and cuddle with it and maybe cry a little.

[Going_Nuts]

Not gonna lie. This seriously made me cry. I sobbed at freds death. I was most torn up about him in the books and movies. I wish JK had done something like this to show how George felt. But you know, all was well, so that wouldn't really work. Thank you so much for writing this. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore because it's three in the morning and this has turned me into an emotional wreck.

[Foxfire]

Just returned from the movie - was great! - and I HAD to read this fic! It's awesome! I really like how you write George! Especially correcting himself was so sad:

their - his - bedroom

[Prongs]

This is quite possibly the saddest, yet well-written Harry Potter fanfiction I've seen.

'Took them long enough,' he thought grudgingly

My thoughts exactly!

[ichixshiro14]

This is quite possibly the saddest, yet well-written Harry Potter fanfiction I've seen.

'Took them long enough,' he thought grudgingly

My thoughts exactly!

I second this to a T! Great work, really

[PaperThings]

A/N: Wow, you are all LOVELY! Thank you so much for such nice feedback - I was not expecting anything like that, haha. I am so glad you all love George as much as I do <3! I've always had a soft spot for him (and, well, all the Weasley brothers). Here is part two, and I'm so sorry it took me so long to post it!

Spoo - Thank you so much!! I'm so glad you thought I got the characters well; with fanfiction, for HP especially, that's what I care about most . I'm totally an angst-whore too, haha.

Always (heehee, I love your new name - I can guess where it comes from:D) - Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked it, even if it did make you sad.

Zane - Thank you!! I am so glad you liked it! I really hope I did your request justice . Please, please let me know if there is anything specific you would like me to add in the next part.

snufflebunny - Thank you so much!

Dusty15 - Haha, no, you should write one too! Your writing is excellent! And thank you .

EliGirl - Thanks so much!

Awesome Galaxy - Wow, thank you! I'm really, really flattered. Haha, it does seem this story has taken more of a regular!fic route than a sick!fic. Haha, hopefully nobody minds .

AnonyMouse - Aww, thank you! That means a lot, that you liked the story even though you're not that into HP.

27JaredJensen - Thank you!! You're incredibly sweet, and I am so, so glad you're liking the story.

Going_Nuts - Thank you! Yeah, I really wish JKR had done more on the aftermath too. I think one of the reasons I love writing post-DH fanfiction so much is because it helps me to imagine what might have happened. I am so glad that you like the story!

Foxfire - Thank you so much!

ParrotGirl -Wow, thanks so much! And haha, yeah, those are my feelings too . Hard-core Hermione/Ron shipper since book two. Yay!

Ichixshiro14 - Thank you!

I'm so sorry, I feel like my replies to these comments are really inadequate. You should all just know that basically, since writing is my entire life, comments on my writing are basically the things that make me happiest <3. And you guys are all amazing, and thank you for reading, haha, because writing this helps to fill my post-Potter void .

Anyway... here is part two!

---

Almost immediately after, George found himself being escorted back upstairs by Molly, back into his bed. It seemed rather pathetic that, after using so much effort to remove him from his room, she was now sending him back to it. Then again, he supposed it made her feel better, being able to comfort him this way; she could tend to his cold in a way she couldn't tend to his grief.

"Just call down if you need anything, dear," she said, smoothing his blankets as she'd done when he was small. The memory came, unbidden, of a time when he and Fred had both come down with Dragon Pox at age nine. Even during their most feverish hour, they'd managed to set a small fire to ickle Ronnykin's bed. Molly'd almost hexed them both, but they pleaded illness and narrowly escaped punishment. The thought of this time made his eyes burned, unexpected, and he wished sorely that his mother would leave. "And... I'll send one of your brothers up when they return, shall I? Or I'll owl one of them and say they should stop by Diagon Alley for some Pepper Up." She frowned. "We're all out, I've checked."

George sniffed rather violently, hoping to make some progress with the flaring itch inside his nostrils, and shook his head. "Don't bother," he said, his voice rough. "Everything's closed, anyway." He blinked, not saying the real reason he didn't want her to go to any trouble. While he lay up here, hiding from his family and his new reality, he knew the rest of the Weasley brood was busy planning Fred's funeral. And if any of the family were gone - even just to buy some Pepper Up - he knew it would make things that much harder on the others, namely his parents and Bill. Strength in numbers, he'd heard before. Well, his other number was gone, and it felt a strange, painful lie to rely on the rest of his family now.

Privately, he wanted to delay the funeral as long as possible. He wasn't sure how he could handle seeing Fred's face again. He was a little afraid to voice this to anyone, since his face was Fred's face after all, but that fact just made it all the harder. He'd already smashed the lone mirror in their old room, half without thinking, and left the mess alone; he figured whoever found it would be clever enough to figure out the reason and would clean it up without a word.

"Well, have a good rest, dear," Molly said. She touched her hand to his cheek, and the warmth came so suddenly that George felt it wear at him, bringing fresh hot tears to his eyes. He smiled sloppily at her, sure she could see the moisture in his eyes, and waited until she had closed the door behind her to let a few tears trickle down his cheeks. He brushed them, too sick and lacking in energy to cry properly. With a heavy sigh, he placed one of the smaller pillows over his head.

In a way, it seemed rather ridiculous that he get sick now. Almost funny. At least it was a distraction, he thought. At least, preoccupied by the fact that he could not longer breathe through his nose, and was now chapping his lips as he breathed heavily through his mouth, made him think less of Fred. Fred. But then, he couldn't help but also think that he would stay sick forever, if it meant bringing Fred back. Really, the more he considered it, he thought he would do just about anything to switch places with Fred. See how the slightly-older, slightly-braver, two-eared twin enjoyed being stuck here all alone. Fred wouldn't like that kind of thought very much though, he knew. Fred would have understood grief, yes, but not such a depth of self-pity.

George shut his eyes. Though he felt rather stupid, falling back to sleep again, there wasn't much else he felt up to doing. His head was swimming and he felt too-hot under the blankets, fully aware that the moment he removed them he'd feel too cold. The only thing that kept him from slipping unconscious was the terrible itch in his nose, which prodded and peeled away at him until he was forced to give it his undivided attention. Suddenly angry, fed up with it all, he rubbed his fist left and right against the nostrils, making them twitch. The itch only intensified, shifting positions slightly. . Realizing he would probably sneeze soon, he began to feel around for the handkerchief he was sure his mum had left.

"What are you looking for?"

The voice truly startled him, and he whirled his head around in surprise.

Ginny stood in the doorway, her hand poised lightly on the frame. She was dressed in pajamas, her face gaunt and her hair rather a mess. She looked, for lack of a better word, frightened. And that, more than anything else, hurt George, because he knew few people more fearless than his little sister.

"My handkerchief," he said, hearing how congested he sounded. "I can't seem to find it and I have to sneeze." He said this all very quickly, afraid breathing too much would hurry the thing along before he found the hankie. It occurred to him, vaguely, that this was the first time he'd spoken to Ginny since that night - since it had happened - and that it really was a rather meaningless conversation for them to have at such a time.

"It's - it's there," Ginny strode reluctantly towards the bedside, and George could see the way she pointedly looked away from the other side of the room. Fred's side. George swallowed. "Here." She handed it to him and then they stared at one another, at a loss of words for one of the first times in their lives. George held it up to his face, feeling the way his breath hovered on the verge of hitching. That was the worst he'd always thought, the anticipation of the anticipation. "Heh - HEH - " The climbing paused momentarily, tantalizingly on edge, and George sat slightly up in fear of drenching his sheets with spray. "EhhggSHUH! EHH-SHUHH!" Each made his head swim, and his throat burn raw. He pinched tightly on the end of his nose, not sure he could handle anymore just now.

Blinking back the irritated tears in his eyes, he glanced sideways at Ginny. She stood a little away from the bed, arms folded, not looking at him. Almost at first instinct, he tried kidding with her. "I've always thought we Weasley's must look rather horrible when we're sick. We've already got the red hair, and when our noses turn that color too..." He grinned at her, but it was half-hearted and he could tell she didn't buy it. "Why didn't you go to Hogwarts, with Harry and the others?" he asked, more quietly.

She shrugged. "Ron and Hermione didn't go either."

"That's different," George said, propping himself up. "They're together. You're - " He didn't want to say 'alone.' No one was alone, not compared to him.

"I just... I just couldn't," she said. He watched her closely, wondering a bit whether it had to do more with Harry or more with the fact that Hogwarts was the last place Fred had been alive. Perhaps a mixture of the two.

"S'all right," he said. "I bet they have loads of volunteers." She nodded and he shifted over slightly, leaning his head to show that she should sit. She did and they stared at one another, both of them at a loss. "Oh, honestly," George said, after a moment. "I wish everyone wouldn't act as if I'm... I'm really contagious, or something." This, at least, got a tiny smile from Ginny.

"You know, you probably are."

He grinned. "Well, even so..." There was a long silence, but it was somehow comfortable. George rubbed lightly at his nostrils, trying to soothe them rather than stir anything up.

Ginny took a deep breath. "It's just... hard. Knowing how to act. Around - around you." Brilliant, George thought sarcastically . No, it had not slipped his mind that simply being around him would probably bring his family pain, at least for a while. When he looked so much like Fred... well, he imagined it would be hard for them. "Besides, I thought you might want to be alone. I know I did." She stared down at her lap.

"Ah, so that's why they've been avoiding me," he said lightly.

"That, and you went upstairs and locked the door, and hadn't gone down since," she retorted.

George smirked at her. "I think - heh - oh, bloody hell, hang - hang on - hih!" His nostrils flared disastrously wide, aching to be free, and he balled the handkerchief tight around them. After a moment of eyebrow wiggling, his face knotting up entirely, his body gave way into the release. "HehttSHUH! HehhSHUHH! EhhhddTSHHHHH!" He made a face at the soggy temperature and set it aside, shivering a little in the aftermath of the triple. When he glanced over to Ginny once more he saw that she had a hand over her face, tears trickling under her fingertips. He sighed and tried to shift over towards her, ignoring the throbbing inside his head. "I'm sorry, Gin," he said, touching her on the shoulder. His words were nearly inaudible now, thanks to all the sneezing. "I didn't mean to upset you."

She nearly laughed through her tears. "It's not that," she said. "It's just - I'm sorry."

He nodded gravely. Yet somehow, seeing Ginny cry made him feel stronger, not sadder. He could comfort her, couldn't he? She was his little sister, after all. He had vague memories of when she was born, the first girl born into the Weasley family for generations, and he and Fred had thought she'd make a much better playmate that little Ronald. Ron never did get over that, when they told him about it. Weekly. He put his arms delicately around her, hoping he wouldn't sneeze on her, and stayed absolutely silent as she cried. Because what was there to say? He knew better than anyone that it wasn't going to be all right.

He sighed. Ginny's pain scalded him, almost as badly as his own, and he knew he couldn't avoid the rest of his siblings' mourning forever. Part of his isolation, he knew, was not just wanting to avoid the world; he was afraid to see that this actually affected anyone besides him. Voices sounded downstairs, and the siblings broke apart. Ginny wiped at her eyes. "I should go downstairs," she said softly.

"Yes, you should," George replied. He felt, for lack of a better word, almost normal again. Minus the fever, that is.

"And you?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I, little sister, am sick," he replied. "I don't have to go anywhere."

Ginny started to say something but was interrupted by George curling up, almost cat-like, sneezing ferociously into his sodden handkerchief. She sighed. "I'll tell Mum you need a new one."

"Thanks," he replied, between sneezes, barely finishing the word before another exploded out of him. She stood up slowly, smiling at him lightly through her red eyes. Perhaps she realized that, though their relationship would be different now, they could still be sister and brother.

A/N: The next part will have even MORE sneezing, I swear, as well as more fun hurt/comfort stuff. And now I'm so attached to Weasley-sneeziness, I feel like I want to start a drabble thread just for them . Who knows? Thank you so much for reading guys!

[Zane]

Zane - Thank you!! I am so glad you liked it! I really hope I did your request justice . Please, please let me know if there is anything specific you would like me to add in the next part.

You did a stupendious, amazing, and absolutley wonderful job with this! The way you described everything even how George sneezed was I totally freaked out!!! Not only that but Holy crap!!! that was..... just so sad and ahhhhh I cried a little during this! Thank you so much for writing this! It is soooooooo good! I honestly don't know what else to say at the moment but thank you thank you thank you!!! :D

Edited August 18, 2011 by Zane

[Prongs]

All in favor of a Sneezy Weasley Drabble thread!!!!!

This is so well-written I can't get over it. I love the way George sneezes, and I love his sort of depressed sense of humor. Everyone is in-character, and reading this might've just cured my writer's block!

Can't wait for more. <3

[Galaxy]

All in favor of a Sneezy Weasley Drabble thread!!!!!

I!

Ohhh, I want to steal your imagination. This was just...marv. On so many levels. First I was tearing up because of George and his sadnosity, and then I cried at the part about the mirror, and then I felt like a terrible person for enjoying that bit of sneeziness he had there ( ), and THEN you throw in some brother/sister love...oh. I melted. I would completely adore this even if it wasn't a sneeze!fic. Just so...emotional and real.

I love this. I love you. Keep on keeping on and you will keep all these raving fangirls VERY happy.

[glowstick03]

Oh, god. You wrote a George Weasley fic. About after Fred died (yes, I'm a little slow on the uptake, I'm sorry I didn't see this sooner!!) And, George is my favorite character, and I just want to cry because this is so sad but it is also so beautiful. It wouldn't even have to have sneezing and it would still be...amazing. And...I can't even put into words what I really think about this fic. It's just so...FANTASTIC. Which is horrible to say because George is suffering. But. It just is. I'll stop rambling now, and I look forward to when you complete this

Also, I wouldn't mind a sneezy Weasley drabble thread...you know...no big deal. But. It would be super awesome if you chose to do that

[EliGirl]

Oh, god, an update! *hugs self in excitement*

I just melted into a puddle of sadness and sympathy on the floor. (Dang, now I'm gonna have to clean it up!)

Great work! Eagerly awaiting part three!

[ichixshiro14]

Awwww George is so sweet It's so sad and bittersweet but awesome, I love your portrayal! It's just like a chapter that got misplaced or something

[27jj]

Ahhhh, this story It breaks my heart, poor George muffin, especially the part about mirror. All of the sneezes are so good:) Awesome update!

[Always]

I'm glad you like my new name! Always says so much in so little dkjskfjdkd but honestly, I can't get enough of this! Your writing style is amazing, and in my opinion, you capture the characters quite well can't wait for the final part~

[cheech]

oooooh, amazing

[Foxfire]

This is so heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time! This NEEDS to be written!

And that part about the mirror - felt like

So bittersweet!