A/N: Okay, so I'm sort of happy with this and sort of not! Regardless, it's a one-shot that I just randomly started writing and it came out to this! I have a lot of other ideas floating in my head and I'm sorry for everyone else that's waiting for more of The World Crumbling Around Us; I promise I'm still working on it! Other than that, I hope you enjoy this tiny piece!

At nine, Harry made a friend.

"Fred!" a gangly red-headed boy yelled over the screams and laughter of the other children on the playground. He was tall for his age of 11, standing at one hundred and fifty-one centimeters; which he frequently bragged over his brother who was barely a centimeter shorter. He had a spattering of freckles on his face and large brown eyes.

"Come on George, jump in!" Fred yelled back. He was nearly identical to the other aside from the frown etched on Georges' face, and the broad grin spread on his own.

George huffed, crossing his arms, Fred knew how much he hated this game. They usually stuck to something they could both do. It was their thing, but sometimes Fred liked to join with the other kids and do the things they were doing too.

The twins were usually in sync, everything about them. More often than not, they were confused for the other. In fact, a blonde kid was calling out George to pass the ball to him. George noticed the slip of hurt in Fred's eyes, but the other kids didn't see a thing. It was normal, this was their thing.

"I'll just be over here," George grumbled, stomping his way to the tree closest to the kids playing four-square.

George sighed, trying not to pout about being left out. It wasn't like they weren't together all the time, sometimes he liked to be away from his slightly more obnoxious than him twin too. It was the first time they'd come to this playground though; he was hoping to play with his brother first. Ron, his younger brother by two years, was too much of a baby to play. Anytime they tried playing with him before, he'd go off crying to their mother, most likely because of a prank they pulled on him.

George was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice another body by the tree— or in it more specifically.

"Are you—are you okay?" The soft voice caused George to startle and look around frantically for the disturbance in his pouting.

"Hello?" He called tentatively.

"Um, up here."

George turned his gaze skyward where a tiny raven-haired boy hugged the trunk of the tree, his face pressed into the bark almost painfully.

"Uh—" George was at a loss. Why was this kid up in the tree? George's mom always yelled at the twins for climbing when they were younger, didn't the boy know how dangerous it was?

"Sorry," the boy whispered, shooting his gaze around them, then as if satisfied, he turned back to George. "I don't mean to pry."

'Pry? What a weird kid.' George thought, before smiling.

"Why are you in a tree?"

Bright green eyes widened in alarm before he shook his head and squinted his eyes shut tightly. Then, as if on cue, a rowdy quad of kids ran passed, yelling the name 'Harry' at the top of their lungs with maniacal grins.

Then George realized, he was hiding.

"They're gone," George called. "Harry; was it?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed. He nodded to George's question but stayed where he was, too afraid to step back onto the stable ground in case the boys came back.

"I should ask if you're okay, not the other way around," George said as he stood, dusting off the dirt from his pants.

"Y-yes, I'm fine," it was said like a line he'd repeated a million times, and this made George frown.

"It's okay," George said softly, taking pity on the small boy. He looked so frail, the clothes he wore pooled around him, draping off the tree, looking more like rags than attire.

"If they're bothering you, I can get my brother and take care of them," George said, fierce determination lighting in his eyes. He wasn't sure why, but the sudden urge to protect the poor kid doubled at the thought of someone bullying the terrified child. It reminded him of that jerk in school, Flint, who took his time to belittle their family at every opportunity.

"N-no! Please, it's okay," Harry said, his eyes full of fear.

George frowned, trying to figure out if there was more to Harry's situation.

"Well, would you like to play for a bit then?" George asked, holding out his hand as if to help Harry out of the branches.

"You want to play with me?"

The apparent confusion in George brought another wave of irritation in him. Why was Harry so surprised at playing at the playground? Didn't he have friends? He must have accidentally voiced his thought because the next thing he knew Harry was staring at the ground in sadness.

"No, Dudley doesn't like me having friends. He says I'm too much of a freak to have friends."

George gaped at him for a moment. Was Harry hearing himself right now?

"Why would he say that?"

Harry bit his lip for a moment before he responded, "Because I don't have parents. He said I don't deserve his parents just because I lost mine."

And George's heart broke. He wanted to cry for the boy, who was so distinctly timid and tortured daily by this Dudley that he believed the words his tormentor said.

"That doesn't make you a freak—" George started hotly but stopped when Harry tensed up at his fierce reaction. "Look, I'll be your friend, okay? You can play with me, and no one is going to say anything about it. I'll protect you, I promise."

George said it gently and when he held out his hand to Harry again, the much smaller grip in his lit George's face.

And that was the beginning of everything.

At ten, Harry made Fred realize how vital Harry was to George.

The first time Harry met Molly Weasley was nothing short of a suffocating hug and a table full of food that he'd gawked at for two minutes. His reaction to the spread made George angry at Harry's relatives again. George knew they weren't abusive towards Harry, but the negligence was just as bad, especially with the free reign Dudley had over abusing his cousin.

Harry had stuck to George like glue since the tree incident, and George soaked up the attention Harry gave him. Fred took to the raven easily as well, adopting them as a pseudo third to their original duo. This was exceptionally clear when the pair went on a search for Harry one day at the park.

Dudley and his two dunderhead friends cornered Harry. They were Harry Hunting, as Harry informed George of the moniker his cousin chose. It angered George to no end and Fred, sensing the fire in his twin took to George's side as they scared Dudley and his friends to wetting themselves.

Harry was grateful, but the dirt and slight bruising on his face from being pushed down prompted George to turn into his mother and take care of Harry's wounds. Back at the burrow, which was only a few blocks away from the park, they sat in Fred and George's room, bellies full of Mrs. Weasley's delicious cooking.

"So, you came up with the 'Who's who' game after your mum and dad kept confusing you two?" Harry queried as they sat on the floor in the middle of the room, cards in their hands as they played goldfish.

George and Fred nodded at the same time, which always amused Harry to no end. They often took to speaking at the same time, only managing to fumble in words now and then.

"Would you—" Fred began.

"Like to try?" George concluded, both grinning like wild men.

Harry thought for a moment and nodded hesitantly. He wasn't sure how people managed to confuse them, George was so intensely different to Fred in his eyes, it was hard to believe they were twins besides the fact that they almost looked similar.

"Alright, close your eyes!" Fred said, and Harry heard some shuffling, then a light curse, to which he chuckled.

"Open!"

Harry gazed at the boys, but it looked as if they never moved. They sat staring at Harry expectantly, George's face looking slightly unsure.

"You didn't even move!" Harry grumbled.

George's eyes widened but recomposed as Fred elbowed him discretely.

"Ah-ah-ah, that's not how it works Harry," Fred began, a smug look on his face. "How can you prove that we didn't move?"

Harry sighed, drawing a grin on Georges' face at the adorable exasperation on Harry's face.

"George, you're more expressive than Fred. Fred, you always speak first then George follows closely after, even when you speak together. George also has more freckles than Fred does, his reach the bottom half of his cheeks more than Fred's do. George is also calmer and reserved, and Fred always has a mischievous smile on his face without realizing it."

Fred and George stared, shocked as the ten-year-old boy listed off the slight differences they had. Fred looked into his brother's eyes, the enamored adoration lighting in the brown orbs, he realized how much the two grew on each other. It was jarring, and Fred wasn't sure what to do with the information. He knew he wasn't losing his twin, but it felt like someone was intruding on their twinliness.

"Besides, I'd remember George out of anyone! He saved me. I'll never forget that."

And Fred knew that if anyone had to intrude, Harry was perfectly fit for the job.

At thirteen, Harry went through his first heartache.

After Dudley went off to a private school for 'better' education, Harry was left in the public schooling system, and friends appeared out of nowhere. Ron introduced him to his friends, Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Blaise.

Harry had never had anyone besides Fred and George, but he was welcoming nonetheless. George, now fifteen, watched as Harry and Blaise spent more and more time together, and the feeling in his chest wasn't pleasant at all. Then, without any warning, Ron broke the news that the two were going on a date, which led to their current conversation.

"You met him like, a few months ago Harry!" George said with a frown.

"George, I've been in the same school with him for years, and we're just catching a show," Harry returned with a goofy smile.

George felt a sting at the nonchalant response. Why was Harry so undeniably frustrating when he blew off George's worries!

"Well, maybe you should reschedule, I mean," George had to dig deep for a decent reason, but what came out of his mouth was nothing less than a poor excuse. "Didn't you tell Mom you'd be here for dinner?"

Harry's responding face was nonplussed, "George, the show starts at 1 pm, I'll be back way before dinner, promise." Harry stayed at their house most days, rarely returning home for much besides a quick hello to his aunt and uncle and letting them know he was okay, not that they noticed much. Molly was apt to 'adopt' Harry in all but legal terms, fussing over him as any mother would, and Harry couldn't be happier with the change.

George shook his head and turned to Fred, who shrugged his shoulders and returned to his homework.

"George, I know you've always been protective of me, but I'm not the same little boy I was when I was eight. I can handle myself, I promise. I appreciate it, but you don't have to mother hen me."

George spluttered for a moment as Harry stood, threw a wave goodbye, and walked out of the twin's room. Fred scoffed from behind his textbook and gave George a sad smile.

"Jealousy doesn't fit on you Gred. Harry doesn't realize it, but if you keep being so intrusive, he'll notice eventually."

George scowled and ran fingers through his long fiery locks. Harry mentioned how much he liked when George grew out his hair, and to his embarrassment, Fred pointed it out at every turn while Harry was still around.

"Don't be jealous that your twin looks way better than you Fred," Harry would chuckle with a rolling of his eyes. "Maybe you should try the same for Angelina."

Fred would stammer out a half-witted retort and leave the room with his face in flames.

George waited. And waited. And waited. But the time moved so slow. It was around 4 pm that Harry arrived back at the house and George's apprehension was palpable at the display of affection when Blaise dropped Harry off. They hugged and then as if mocking him from the second story window, Blaise placed a kiss on Harry's cheek, to which the smaller boy flushed prettily against the lips that grazed his skin.

"You're not proving your case of being a mother hen, brother."

Fred's voice caused him to yelp and nearly fall down the steps near his seclusion in the window.

"Bloody hell just kill me why don't you?"

"George, I know what this is about, and it's not good to do this to yourself," Fred said, brushing off George's glare. "Harry is growing up and so are we. I know I'm not the most sentimental sap out there, but you have to let this one go, okay?"

"What if he gets hurt again, Fred, what then?" George said hotly, keeping an eye on Blaise and Harry from the window, where they were buried in conversation. He watched the darker skinned teen speak smoothly, Harry's laughing face etched in his mind.

"Then he learns," Fred shrugged, and George spun around so fast his neck got whiplash. "We can't always protect him. He's going to get hurt. The thing is, you'll be there to pick him up, I know you will. I don't understand your feelings, but ever since you two met, you were attached at the hip, even more so than you and I. I didn't mind it, I was happy for you for finding someone that was willing to give you their one hundred percent attention."

"I love you Georgie, and I hate to watch you do this to yourself," Fred finished, placing a comforting hand on his twin's shoulder. "But this time, you have to let him do his own thing."

And George had never felt so helpless.

It was only a month later, after watching Blaise and Harry grow close to the point of pain for George that Harry came home with tear-stained cheeks. It was apparent what happened, but George wasn't sure how to handle it. The black-haired teen ran upstairs to his room so fast that Ron and Fred, who were in the kitchen as he came in shrugged in confusion to the lack of a hello.

"Harry?" George couldn't leave Harry to suffer for himself, not at a time like this.

"Please go away."

The broken tone nearly tore George's heart apart. It wasn't fair, he'd been suffering from the same pain for so long, but here he was, willing to take that pain from Harry if he'd be happy again. George couldn't be selfish though; Harry hadn't known the pain he was causing George every time he left with Blaise. It was like something clogged his throat and tugged at the nerves in his chest when Harry talked about Blaise and how great he was.

George couldn't remember when his feelings appeared for Harry, but it was indeed longer than the month that Harry had with Blaise. The sad part was that his family knew of them, yet Harry remained utterly oblivious.

After a tense minute of silence, George sighed and slid down, his back against the mahogany door. He was at a loss, he had only dated one other person, but it was a mutual break up. Katie realized the feelings he had for his friend before he could even understand what they were.

"Look, I know you don't want to talk, but I'm here for you anyway," George said, hoping his voice reached the other side of the door. "I don't want you to hurt; you're worth so much more than that."

When the door opened behind George, he had no time to pull his weight away causing him to fall comically against the floor with a thump. The small gasp above him and his groan were simultaneous, and the quick motion of hands behind George's head warmed his heart. Even when upset, Harry was still ridiculously caring.

"I didn't know you were on the other side, I'm sorry!" Harry said, hands still combing through George's hair as if checking for any injury.

"I'm fine don't worry," George said, smiling lightly. He took in Harry's appearance, the reddened eyes and the slightly mussed hair from worrying. "Do you mind if I come in and rest my concussion?"

Harry chuckled, and a flood of relief flowed through George's veins, at least he could still make him laugh. With Harry's help, George positioned himself in the computer chair. Harry fussed over George's head, placing his iced water bottle from last night over the growing bump. Tiny sniffles were aptly ignored by both in the room, though each shaky breath wasn't lost on George.

"Harry—"

"George, please, I don't want to talk about it," Harry interrupted immediately. George's mouth clicked shut, teeth ringing in response. Harry had never been so shut off, not since the first time they met.

Both boys stayed silent for a while longer as George placed a hand on the one that held the cold bottle to his rapidly aching head. Harry's sharp inhale brought a bloom of worry in George's chest, but he persevered.

"Do you remember the promise I made to you in the park, Harry?"

"Of course I do, you oaf," Harry chuckled wetly, discreet sniffles and the tightening of the hand around the bottle an indication that he was trying hard to hold it together.

"I said I'd protect you," George said, and a choked sob was his only response. He turned quickly, wrapping the smaller boy in his arms as Harry broke down and let his tears loose. "That especially means your heart."

At fourteen, Harry left.

It was like George's world was crashing down. He'd never felt a pain so intense that it made him physically ill and he'd happily jump off the edge of the world if it meant the pain would go away. He was alone, abandoned, and anything his family tried to tell him bounced off deaf ears.

How could they understand? A piece of him was gone as if it was never there at all. They'd tell him one day he'd be back, one day he wouldn't feel like this, one day it'll all be okay. So, George said fuck them, right to their face. Bitterly, he watched their pity and anger delve out the dismissive behavior long before his callous response became a broken record.

George sat in his room, nothing to preoccupy his shattered heart but old scraps of paper, serving his memories better times. Times of messy black hair and glowing green orbs staring back at him with the happiness he couldn't even remember the feeling of now.

It was seven months to the day without a single word, and he counted every single painstaking pulse of his heart at the hollow voice in his head.

"I'll be back George, I'm sorry, but I have to do this. It'll only be a few months, okay?"

Yeah, fancy that. George couldn't help the growl that left his throat as he smashed the box filled with papers, those which held scrawled handwriting, barely legible to make out. The thump must have resounded through the house because the door to his room opened cautiously and a familiar face popped in, so familiar that it was like looking into a mirror.

"Geor—"

"Fuck off."

The hurt in those eyes didn't deter the venom in his veins. No, if anything, they fueled the fury, lashing out in anger towards anyone that tried to understand.

"I miss him too, George," Fred said, almost hesitantly.

"Well good fucking riddance," George shot back. "It's not like a bloody call would be too much to ask! Christ, even a god damn letter would suffice, but does he care that he left with barely any explanation? No, cause he was too focused on some cracked man who knew a little about his parents! As if I wasn't here to pick him up every time he cried about them, or his relatives, or anything that he felt bad about! Now what, Fred, I'm just supposed to be okay and pretend like I'm not some crumbling piece of mess?"

The words were heated, breaking at the syllables, and Fred watched as his twin slowly broke before his eyes.

"Why am I still letting him do this to me? Am I selfish for wanting more? Am I not allowed to feel like my fucking heart's been ripped out and stomped on by someone that doesn't even care enough to say a simple 'hi'?"

George's eyes were filled with unshed tears now, and it took everything in him to keep those tears from falling, but it was a failing effort.

"Sirius this, Sirius that!" George screamed, but Fred stood there, listening without interruption. "Why'd he have to leave? Why does it hurt so much? Fred, I—It hurts."

Fred couldn't take it, he rushed forward and gripped George in a tight hug, but his twin just stood there, face blank and eyes red. It was the most disconcerting thing Fred had ever been witnessed to, and Fred vowed then and there that if he ever saw Harry again, he'd strangle the boy. For all the pain he'd put his brother through, albeit unknowingly, it was more than evident to everyone else around them. This wasn't George.

This wasn't the twin he remembered.

At fifteen, Harry returned.

The shouts downstairs brought George out of his homework. He turned seventeen not too long ago, and as such, he started to crack down more on his studies to get ready for Uni. It was all he could do the past year to get his mind off- Well, he turned into a bigger geek than his older brother Percy, though the aforementioned Weasley was proud of George, much to Fred's horror.

George wished his sister's ungodly shriek wasn't so damn loud, now his focus was entirely shot. Deciding it better to check out what had his family in a tizzy, he closed his book and pulled on a grey t-shirt. What could George say? It was much comfier to study in just his trousers, another reason why he hated to go to the school library, they frowned on that.

"—Can't believe you're here!"

George's curiosity peaked at Ron's incredulous voice. Was it a relative? His heart started to beat fast for some reason, a burning in his chest expanding rapidly as he trudged down the stairs.

"George, look!" Ginny said with a big grin, but Ron was suddenly looking anxious as if waiting for him to explode as he walked into the kitchen.

George didn't understand it until the person wrapped in the arms of his mother stared back at him with bright, almost glowing green eyes. George's breath hitched as he took him in. His hair was longer, still as black at midnight, but framed his face in tendrils of soft messy curls. The black leather jacket hugged his lithe stature perfectly, and the ripped black jeans he sported were just as fitting.

George suddenly wanted to be anywhere else right now. Anywhere but here, staring at those green eyes who looked back at him with such remorse, that he tried to swallow the scream in his throat and put all that power behind a fist, but he was never a violent person, quite the opposite really.

However, Fred wasn't so prone to be adverse with acts of violence, and that's when everything went to hell. Fred rounded the corner of the door, probably coming back from hanging out with Angela, then recognized who was in their kitchen. The sound of a fist connecting with bone shocked everyone out of their state of happiness.

The screams were likely from Ginny, but George stood there, too hollow again to do anything as he watched his twin mercilessly struggled against Ron, who was holding him back, just barely. Ron was screaming obscenities at Fred, red in the face from using all his muscle, to which George had to credit he'd really started to gain more of over the summer.

Molly was in tears at the display, apologizing profusely and trying to help Harry as the raven-haired boy propped on his elbow, wiping away the blood from his mouth. Harry didn't look shocked though, he seemed sadder more than anything, and that broke George.

"Harry—" George started before he choked.

Said boy looked up, alarmed and ashamed, "George, I—"

He didn't sound the same. He seemed different, older perhaps?

George said nothing, but he looked to his twin, who looked back at him with resigned anger. At the hollow emotion in his twin's eyes, Fred stopped struggling and sighed.

"Stop this, you're both way out of line! I can't believe you'd do this to your friend—" Molly started but was cut off immediately by George.

"Go home, Harry."

The sharp intake of breath from Harry hurt. George knew what he was saying wasn't him, it was the anger, the pain of what Harry took with him, but he didn't mean it. Harry muttered an apology to Molly before he took off out the door as quickly as he came.

It was silent after that. Ron took off after Harry, but not before he pushed his older brother from him with a force that nearly toppled Fred over. When Fred finally met George's eyes, they were filled with sorrow, and George couldn't handle that. He was doing fine for a while now. He was getting past it, until now. For one measly second, Harry was back, and it was nothing like he imagined it would be. It was all anger and pity. So, George ran.

George didn't go far, not that he was in much shape to do so at least. He was feeling too many things and once and the only thing he wanted to do was get away from everything. The short outburst to his brother from months and months back coming back to him. He was angry, but not at Harry.

No, George was angry because he let himself get like this. Harry had all the right in the world to be with people that apparently loved and missed him. Harry never had anyone there for him except for George and the minute someone else came into Harry's life George turned away. Didn't he promise to protect Harry? Here he was now, probably just as much a piece of shit as Harry's aunt and uncle was.

It stung George to know that Harry grew up so much in the year that he'd been gone. For a moment he saw the smiling man Harry had become, a self-confident teen with no more weight on his shoulders. Someone who finally had love in their life and George went and ruined it.

There was no one at the park, at least not by the swing set he sat on. It was sort of bitter being here, mainly since the tree that stood ten feet away was the same tree he 'saved' Harry from.

'Saved,' George scoffed to himself. 'More like took advantage of and twisted around my finger.'

"You still do that thing with your eyebrows when you get sad," Harry said from beside him.

George wasn't surprised, but he let out a shaky chuckle anyway, "Yeah, do you still bite your lip when you're nervous?"

George watched Harry hop down from the branches of the tree, nostalgia hitting him like a wave as Harry's bottom lip worried beneath his teeth. George gave the boy a sad smile at that, though he wasn't sure if anything else was the same on the raven, especially with those ridiculously attractive new silver dragon earrings in both ears.

"Well, I guess, but my lip is already sore from earlier," Harry mumbled, and George winced, that crack from Fred must've been his knuckles then, rather than Harry's face. "So, unless you're planning on hitting me too?"

Harry trailed off, unsure. George shook his head, indicating the swing next to him, which Harry took gratefully. George was finally able to get a better look at him now, with his robust features and slight lower chin stubble that was just barely peach fuzz. His green eyes were just as expressive as ever, just as perfectly luminescent as ever, though they were no longer hidden behind thick glasses.

"When did you get contacts?" George kicked his feet, motioning the swing to move side to side.

"Sirius told me that I'd be more attractive this way," Harry said with a snort.

George whipped to face him, green eyes meeting his in reserved alarm, "You were perfect just the way you were!"

The heat in his tone didn't bother the other, apparently, because the bright smile he received had George's heart thumping against his chest wildly.

"Yeah, but I hated having to always clean them."

'Typical Harry,' George thought.

"I know what you want to ask and I'm sorry to say that I don't have an answer," Harry's voice grew soft, almost in worry. "I didn't mean to just disappear but… I was working a lot of things out and Sirius and Remus just—"

"Remus?" George interrupted, his heart falling heavy into his stomach.

"Sirius'… Um," Harry thought for a moment before deciding. "Lover?"

George choked out a laugh at the confusion on Harry's face.

"It's good to hear your laugh again," Harry said with a smile.

"Harry, please—"

"No, I should be apologizing for just leaving you in the dust like you weren't someone that was important to me because you were!" Those green orbs were staring into George's own, and time nearly stopped. "You're important to me George, and I didn't think…"

"It's okay," George said suddenly, Harry's eyes blown wide at the soft tone. "I know you've always longed to have a family of your own. Sirius was something of a family for you, even if you had us, it still wasn't the same. I wanted to protect you and keep you safe, but I let that get in the way of you actually doing something that you needed, and I'm sorry for being unhappy at first."

Harry sat and listened as George spilled his heart, his own growing with each word.

"I'm glad you have a piece of your parents now, you deserved it. It's just—" George broke off for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. "You mean so much to me. We've been near each other for years, and I never expected you to just go off and live your own life, even if that's obviously something you're going to do in the future. I just didn't think it'd be so soon."

Harry smiled and reached over for George's hand as he kicked the swing over to the man's side. He held fast, the chain above him stopping abruptly at the motion.

"I'm not planning on letting you go, George," Harry gripped George's hand a little tighter as long fingers finally slipped around his own. "You're stuck with me forever, even if you don't like it. You may have promised to protect me, but I promised myself a long time ago that no matter what, I'd never leave your side."

George chuckled, "Oh yeah? Then maybe we should make it official, and I'll treat you to dinner?"

Harry's grip faltered in surprise, eyes wide as he stared over at the freckled man. George couldn't believe he just asked Harry on a date! He back peddled, spluttering for a moment.

"I mean—Well, that is to say—"

"George," Harry tugged the hand he was still holding onto, their swings coming just a smidge closer. "I think I'd like that."

The red-head smiled, his face flushed and hid the freckles on his pale skin. It was everything that George was hoping for if Harry had come back, minus the bruise slowly forming on the raven's face. He'd have to make sure Fred wasn't still out for Harry's blood, but he knew his twin would understand.

"Uh, so we're okay, right?" Harry asked hesitantly, a slight fear of rejection in his bright green eyes.

George stood from the swing and crossed over to Harry's side. He pulled the smaller frame against his own and squeezed tight, relishing in the arms that quickly wrapped around his own waist. Harry only came up to his nose, and the familiar sweet scent of his strawberry shampoo was like heaven to him.

"We're more than okay," George whispered. "But if you ever leave again, I'll hunt you down, Potter."

Harry chuckled in his grasp, "I don't think I could handle both you and Fred coming after me at the same time, he packs a hell of a punch."

"I think he hurt himself more than he did you, to be honest," George grinned, parting from Harry with a brush of lips to the tender skin that was slightly puffed up from the blow.

Harry blinked in response, a tinge of pink coming through the bronze complexion.

"I think I can get used to that," Harry breathed, touching the spot with a goofy smile.

George placed another on the opposite side and grasped Harry's hand, leading them away from the park and the tree where they first met. A tiny echo of him asking a scrawny dark-haired boy if he was alright passed through his mind, briefly.