WEASLEY, George Fabian

[GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY]

GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY ,


________________________
"IT'S REAL FOR US. NOT FOR HER.
WE'LL GET THE LETTER, YOU AND ME."
• the basics • the basics • the basics •
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( FULL NAME ) : George Fabian Weasley
( NICKNAMES ) : Gred (when people were discussing George and his late twin Fred, together - their names combined); Your Holeyness (nickname given after he lost his left ear while trying to elude Death Eaters as a Harry Potter look-alike); Georgie (given to him by his mother, Molly Weasley, also after he loses his ear to Dark magic); Rapier (his code name while broadcasting on Potterwatch).
( SEX ) : Male
( BLOOD TYPE ) : Pureblood
( AGE & DOB ) : 20 - 1 April, 1978
( YEAR ) :
( HOUSE ) : former Gryffindor
( AFFILIATION ) : Order member
( SEXUAL ORIENTATION ) : Heterosexual
( WAND ) : 11", hippogriff talon, Maple wood. The core of hippogriff talon makes it excellent for Charm work, while the wood is associated with spells of sending and communication, binding, transmutations, creation, revolution, rebirth, healing, beauty, art, and abundance.

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________________________
"I CAN'T PRETEND ANYMORE.
YOU'VE CHOSEN YOUR WAY, I'VE CHOSEN MINE."
• the personality • the personality • the personality •
________________________

( LIKES ) : playing pranks on the unsuspecting, teasing Percy, breaking rules, wreaking havoc, Quidditch - Beater, making people laugh, inventing, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
( DISLIKES ) : Slytherins, Death Eaters, Dark magic, following rules, blood fanatics, Percy - for a certain amount of time.
( STRENGTHS ) : funny, confident, reliable, strong sense of family, fab flier.
( WEAKNESSES ) : He misses his brother madly, takes a joke too far before he realizes it went too far, won't let you see him upset because he only wants to make you smile.
( AMORTENTIA) : The smell of a freshly trimmed Quidditch pitch, the smell of smoldering explosives, and a floral scent that can only be found in his family's own backyard.
( RIDDIKULUS! ) : Lord Voldemort
( EXPECTO PATRONUM! ) : He has many, nearly all of which contain Fred as well, yet the one George calls to mind when trying to procure a Patronus is from when the twins were younger. He remembers the initial explosion from their first invention, the look on Fred's face and the anger in their mother's eyes as she took in the remains of their charred bedroom furniture and curtains, and their singed eyebrows.
( DEMENTOR'S KISS ) : Seeing his twin brother, Fred, die before his very eyes and being unable to do anything to prevent it.
( MIRROR OF ERISED ) : George deeply wishes that his twin were still alive and with him.
( PERSONALITY ) :George is, by nature, a practical joker. Being born on April Fool's Day will do that to you. When he was in school, he was never seen without his twin. They were so close that their only fighting was over how much vomit solution to put in the puking pastilles that they developed in their fifth and last year at Hogwarts. He was often full of fun and adventure while at school, always trying to make people laugh and cheer them up after they had a bad day or failed a test - he and his brother had failed plenty in their lives, and they were still fine, upstanding citizens, weren't they?

However, after his twin died, George began to withdraw from those closest to him. He doesn't laugh anymore and the spark in his eyes has fizzled out. He buries himself in his work, finding comfort in little else. While he knows that the rest of his family needs him to mourn with them, he can't find it in himself to face that wretched music. Four months later and he still has trouble looking in the mirror, knowing that when he turns his head, he won't be seeing his brother anymore. It's another stab in the heart to know that no one will ever again call him Fred by mistake. A world without Fred is too unimaginable for George, and he knows that he will never fully get over losing his best friend, partner in crime. He only hopes that the pain will ease with time, or at least with the occasional bottle of Firewhiskey....

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________________________
"DID YOU LIKE QUESTION TEN, MOONY?"
"LOVED IT. 'GIVE FIVE SIGNS THAT IDENTIFY THE WEREWOLF.'"
• the appearance • the appearance • the appearance •
________________________

( HAIR ) : George's hair, like all the other Weasleys', is a flaming red color. He used to wear it longer than is customary for men, the ends of which would just brush his shoulders. Now, though, that style has changed. He's had to adapt to losing his left ear, and had to cut his hair. Now it sits just above his ears. He hopes that by the time it grows back to the previous length, the hole where his ear used to be will be healed enough so that the hair won't interfere with the wound.
( EYES ) : The brown of George's eyes are encased in a slight rounded almond shape. His eyelashes are very thin and short, giving him just the amount of coverage needed to protect his eyes from sweat, and other particles that may dare to enter. Since his brother's death, he hasn't been sleeping very well, waking from nightmares most every night. Dark circles have appeared and the light in them is gone. He only wishes he could close his eyes and sleep away forever until he can see his brother again.
( FACIAL STRUCTURE ) : He has a wide, high forehead that is a lot more noticeable now that he's had to cut his hair. He doesn't really care how he looks anymore - though he used to detest this feature of his - because all he sees when he looks in the mirror is his dead twin brother. His nose is pointed at the end, something that he never minded much, as he found it works great for keeping glasses on his eyes. If he had ever needed glasses. His cheekbones are more pronounced when he smiles, though he doesn't do much of that anymore, so the new people he meets don't notice them too much. His chin is rounded smoothly, a feature that the young man had always very much liked.
( BODY STRUCTURE ) : George is 6'3", with the perfect build for a Beater. He weighs about 175-180 pounds, most of it being muscle. Even though he is no longer at Hogwarts, George still plays Quidditch, even if he is just flying back and forth in the backyard by himself, swinging a bludger towards an empty goal.
( ATTIRE ) : George wears Muggle clothing beneath his work robes for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, opting for the more comfortable of jeans, t-shirt, and sweater if the climate requires.
( PLAY-BY ) : Oliver Phelps

________________________
"DOESN'T YOUR DAD LIKE MAGIC?"
"HE DOESN'T LIKE ANYTHING, MUCH."
• the history • the history • the history •
________________________

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( PARENTS ) : Arthur Weasley, 48, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, father
Molly Weasley, 47, loving wife, mother and homemaker, mother
( SIBLINGS ) : Bill Weasley, 27, brother, (former) Gryffindor
Charlie Weasley, 25, brother, (former) Gryffindor
Percy Weasley, 21, brother, (former) Gryffindor
Fred Weasley (deceased at 19), twin brother, (former) Gryffindor
Ron Weasley, 17, brother, Gryffindor
Ginny Weasley, 16, sister, Gryffindor
( OTHERS ) : Septimus Weasley (paternal grandfather)
Cedrella Black (paternal grandmother)
Mr. Prewett (maternal grandfather)
Mrs. Prewett (maternal grandmother)
Gideon Prewett (uncle)
Fabian Prewett (uncle)
Bilius (uncle)
Fleur Delacour (sister-in-law)
Victoire Weasley (niece)

George is also related to the infamous Black family.

( HISTORY ) : By the time George and Fred were born, there were already three brothers for them to come home to. While the Burrow was never the biggest or most expensive of houses, it was always full of love and the vibrant life that only the Weasleys could breathe into it. Upon entering Hogwarts for the first time, with his twin brother in stride, Fred and George immediately began to make a name for themselves as the resident troublemakers. They were the reason for the long list of banned devices and gadgets at the school, having tested Filch the caretaker's patience since day one.

While he was always an average student, it wasn't for lack of intelligence, but more for lack of interest. It had always been his and Fred's dream to own their own joke shop, and to invent all their merchandise themselves. About halfway through their seventh year at Hogwarts, dream became a reality. They left the school during Umbridge's reign of terror in style, leaving a portable swamp in their wake that lingered after they had left, much to Umbridge's dismay and fury.

Once out of school, the twins were finally able to open their joke shop to the public. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opened in Diagon Alley, their dream realized. Business was booming from the beginning, and their popularity was only skyrocketed by the owl-order service they provided to those at Hogwarts during the school year.

George didn't return to the castle until it was time for the final war against Voldemort. Though he wishes he and Fred had never set foot back in that place, because of the atrocious events that followed, George knows that, if given the choice, they'd both do it all over again. After that last battle, the details of which he refuses to bring forward or ever talk about, George's attitude changed completely. He did an entire 180 degree flip, the smile dying as fast as it had died off of Fred's face when he was hit square in the chest that fateful night.

Now he just keeps to himself for the most part, only speaking to those at the business that is deemed necessary. He visits the Burrow regularly, but he's not the same Georgie that any of them remember. No one can blame him for how he's been acting, yet they all desperately try to pull him out of his funk - to no avail. He's having a hard time getting a handle on life without Fred, but he's not sure that the loss of his brother, the best person he ever knew, the closest person he's ever been to, can ever completely be soothed.

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________________________
"MY WHOLE FAMILY HAVE BEEN IN SLYTHERIN."
"BLIMEY, AND I THOUGHT YOU SEEMED ALL RIGHT!"
• the handler • the handler • the handler •
________________________

( ALIAS ) : Sandy
( AGE ) : 26
( EXPERIENCE ) : years and years
( CONTACT INFO ) : just PM please
( HOW'D YOU FIND US? ) : Admin Adrienne led me here.
( CODE WORD ) : Alohomora!
( ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE ) : at least 150 words.

At the edge of Hogsmeade, her dark hair swirling with snow as the wind whipped past, Rebecca stood motionless. Her hands were freezing from their lack of coverage, as was her exposed neck, yet the chill that ran down the girl’s spine was nothing compared to the ice that sat in her heart. She wasn’t usually one to acknowledge any negative feelings she may refuse to admit to having, but it had proved to be difficult to do otherwise. Normally, the Lioness was full of life and laughter – stopping at nothing to get her inner most desire, and not letting anything stand in the way. She had known since it all started that the name she would create for herself within the castle walls wouldn’t be liked by too many, yet it was also widely known that the last thing Rebecca cared about was what others thought of her. Be that as it may, she hadn’t even considered that her own feelings might be akin to prove her person otherwise. Emotions had never really been much of a concern for the seventh year, and it was regrettably so, that her last year at Hogwarts was clouded by a mass so great it haunted her dreams. Though she would deny it vehemently if asked, her nights had become more restless and unnerving. Her sleep was often interrupted by a gripping terror so strong she woke up in an uncharacteristic sweat and, as a result of such an awakening, the girl would continue to lie in bed in a half-sleep state until the sun rose, nothing she had wished for before.

Rebecca was used to coveting the hours she spent away from the rest of the world, snuggled deep under her comforter with no one but Snickers to keep her company. She was so adept at it, that she brought a whole new meaning to the term ‘sleeping in.’ However, as her previously-discussed night terrors would imply, letting go of the day-to-day hadn’t been as easy for the girl as it had once been. Squinting through the eddy of snow, her chocolate eyes were underlined with dark circles that no amount of magic or makeup could erase. While she had tried to cover the blasphemous evidence as it tainted the beauty of her unblemished skin, the hand that applied her eyeliner had become unsteady. It wasn’t as if the girl wasn’t skilled in such an art, but that when it came down to it, on top of the swarm of emotions raging inside of her, Rebecca was plain exhausted. Not sleeping as much as she was used to had certainly been taking its toll on the girl, but she might have been able to handle things as they were if it weren’t for the fact that she was so determined to keep her sentimental maelstrom in a tightly-lidded bottle. Never having been one for sharing her feelings, regardless of the reason for which she ran away from such realizations, the seventh year wasn’t in any hurry to confide in others. Truth be told, though, it wasn’t for lack of trying. She had tried, several times, in fact, yet the thoughts that stormed inside of her lately were far from kosher.

Even now, still at the end of the path that led into Hogsmeade, the girl began to feel anxious. The people that moved past her – most of them students, some of them friends, some of them local townsfolk – Rebecca felt as if each and every single one of them held an admonishing, scrutinizing gaze that burned into her very soul, as if they knew what she was thinking and we’re severely disappointed; or disgusted - either worked for the situation, really. For the first time since she had been in existence, the girl might relate this sensation to that of being uncomfortable in her own skin; which was terrifying in a way of its own. The person she trusted the least was the only one who knew how she really felt about…everything. Not even Haley, the girl’s closest female friend since their first year together; not even she had become privy to the honesty that consumed Rebecca on a daily basis. Again – it wasn’t for lack of trying. The Lioness remembered trying to share her thoughts and… doubts with her classmate, but the words she had spoken merely seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. And it was then that Rebecca realized the extent of the damage that her actions might cause. For practically the first time in her life, she stopped to take a moment and think about how those around her would be affected by her choices. Oh, and the girl was deeply ashamed that it had taken her so long to come down off her high horse.

From then on, the seventh year had been walking around with the knowledge that the weight of her decisions could bring upon the collapse of something more than her social standing, as if she cared about that at any rate. No, it wasn’t just about her anymore, and that was something that she should have learned a long time ago. Yet Rebecca believed that there was still hope for her, somewhere. For even if Haley didn’t want to listen to her doubt the best thing that had come in to her life thus far, well… no one wanted to listen to that, did they? Even so… the Lioness knew there was someone who would listen to anything she had to say; someone who would stand by her through her worst moments – someone who done enough of that already, she was sure. The one person in whom she knew she could confide was still the only one whose promises she could believe. Although the memory of their falling out still struck a chord and cut deep like a knife when she thought about it, Becca knew that the ache in her heart could only be quelled by one person. By the time she was able to come to terms with who that person really was (and why) there was no more shame to be had. For when she thought of him, there was nothing but peace and beauty. When she pictured his dirty-blonde hair, wet after a summer’s afternoon swim in the ocean, his blue eyes smiling with happiness, and that look on his face as he turned those entrancing eyes her way – why, the girl felt herself melting just thinking about it.

However, as sure as she was about that fact, Rebecca also knew that she was treading dangerous waters. She had been hesitant in every instance of her life recently, and the seventh year felt that not even her owls could hide her inner most worries, fears, and – here comes that word again – doubts. Where Tom was concerned, the Lioness could tell no lies and hide no fears. Truth be told, part of her fears had branched off the knowledge that he could know her so well in the first place. But, then again, it would only make sense that the former Badger knew her just as well as she knew him and, boy, did she know him…. Taking a shuddering breath, Rebecca allowed the frigid wind to sweep her up, and found herself blending in to the crowd. She held her hands cupped to her chest, anxiously toying with the ring that lay on her left-hand finger, something she had put on almost as an afterthought earlier that day. Why she had removed it in the first place, she couldn’t remember, but the feel of it against her bare skin seared from the ice of something that had nothing to do with the freezing cold. Ignoring the sensation, the girl tried to remain focused, mutely aware of the fact that she must have looked quite the deranged fragility. Her eyes searching up and down the streets, she became almost frantic, suddenly unsure of why she had come to town to begin with.

Yes, she and Tom had agreed to meet, as they often did when she had a Hogsmeade weekend and he could make the time. Their regular letters back and forth weren’t nearly enough to hold them over, and the longing for the simpler times came rushing back so hard that Rebecca stopped frozen for a moment. She bowed her head, seemingly as a notion to keep the fierce wind from burning her cheeks before she continued walking, and she thanked Merlin, not for the first time, that no one really seemed to care what was going on in the mind of Miss Jordan. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she knew. People cared: Haley, her other friends from school, her parents… Kenyan; especially Kenyan – he cared so much it was almost stifling. But if she had been any other girl, if she had any kind of heart in her, Rebecca would tell you that her fellow Gryffindor was the best man anyone could ask for, and she was just over the moon about their engagement and upcoming wedding. She had long since learned, though, that you can’t change who you are, no matter how badly you wanted to be someone else. She had tried to be that girl, the one that Kenyan deserved to marry and have a life with. Yet as time progressed and her parents (her mother, mostly) had suggested the initiation of marital planning for them, Becca saw that the person she really was, wasn’t the one that Kenyan thought himself to be marrying.

Regardless of the confused feelings she harbored for her best Badger, Rebecca knew that her fiancée deserved someone far greater than herself on her best day. She had spent a lot of time thinking about what was supposed to be happening in their lives, about how the end of their last term at Hogwarts meant a wedding ceremony that her father would spare no cost on; and the more she thought about it, the more certain Rebecca was that getting married would be a mistake. It wasn’t just what she heard to be ‘cold feet’ either, for ever since she had accepted his ring, the Lioness was prepared to marry and settle down as an honest woman. In fact, she felt that the time had indeed come for her to stop playing games and stomping on peoples’ feelings, but she couldn’t do it knowing that the rest of her life, her life together with that man, would be a lie. Yet there was still the factor of how much Kenyan did mean to her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t care about him – quite the opposite, in fact. Rebecca loved him, as much as she could love anyone. But no matter how hard she tried, she was still unable to look anyone in the eye and say that, yes; she was most indeed, desperately, hopelessly in love with him. For all that it was worth, the secret romantic that she was, you were only to marry someone you were in love with. And if you couldn’t find that person or, in her instance, have them, then one shouldn’t be marrying at all. Why, not even the thought of Kenyan being her only chance at a happiness that she could only otherwise obtain through her dreams was enough to solidify her resolve, or stop her nightmares.

Shuddering again, as she forced that thought from her mind (for she didn’t need any more distractions than she already had to hold at bay), Rebecca turned her face up in time to meet the eyes of the one she had been searching for. As she watched his face light up in that same smile that she recalled so easily at a moment’s notice, she duly noted the irony that, all this time, he had been standing right in front of her. Too little too late, though, she knew, but that knowledge did nothing to still her beating heart when he finally reached her – finally, as it felt like ages, the time it took him to walk out from under the cover of the café and into the mass of cold snow and frosty air. Her hands, cupped to her chest as they had been, seemed to be frozen together, yet she reached up and put her arms around his neck in a swift, expert manner that only told part of their story. She already knew what he would say when he took her hands in his, about how she knew better than to forget her gloves, for it wouldn’t be the first time that he commented on such a thing. Rebecca knew that it wouldn’t be long until she had to remove her arms from around him and keep them to herself again, but for the moment, as he pulled her close to him and held her tightly, all she could do was revel. The feel of his embrace, so tight and warm, so full of emotion and love, it was enough to balance and right her own world.

Being held by Tom in such a way made her feel as if she was coming home, and while the Lioness was grateful that he didn’t pull back immediately, she couldn’t deny that it would be torture for her when he did. If all she had to do was to hold on tight and never look down, Tom would be the only person she could do it with. She knew this, just as much as she knew that she couldn’t have him. I love you, she thought, tightening her grip momentarily as she felt his loosening, just the same. I love you so much, you don’t even know. Her eyes closed, she breathed him in and bowed her head to his chest, simply allowing his voice to enfold her as he commented on how much he had missed her. She didn’t looking up at him again until he had released her and touched his hands to her face. “Tommy,” she whispered, a smile the likes of which only he could bring forth gracing her features. She closed her eyes once more as he placed a kiss on her forehead, the feelings it stirred within her demanding special attention as she tried to keep herself together. It was found to be unnecessary wrangling, however, as he went on to almost immediately mention Eden. Right. Her. Being brought back to reality in such a manner was like being hit with the Bat Bogey Hex, and it was all Rebecca could do to keep her smile in place.

“Lucky me,” she said, after he had finished reiterating the situation to her. Touching a cold finger lightly to the back of his neck before removing her arms completely, the Lioness went on to add, “We might have the makings of a double-date on our hands, if we’re not careful.” Shaking her head to sweep the hair out of her face, she followed Tom in the direction of the café he had suggested, allowing him to reach the door before her. Not only was it his duty as a gentleman and best man-friend, if only that (though it was better than nothing, and this she knew from cruel life-experience), but Rebecca’s fingers were practically numb and she would only look foolish trying to grasp any kind of handle, or any thing really. Besides the point that it was, the seventh year stepped in to the warmth of the Hogsmeade café before continuing. “Kenyan’s expecting to meet up too because, well, you know, the boy just can’t get enough of me,” she said, only half-joking, if even that. “But you know you always have me when you want me, Tommy,” she assured him, even if her eyes were shadowed by all she couldn’t portray to him. “Sometimes even when you don’t,” she added shortly thereafter, followed by a ‘serious face’ and nod-of-the-head matter-of-fact. Yet even amidst the jokes and teasing that naturally flowed between the pair of them, Rebecca couldn’t ignore the feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach, as if she had just walked in to her own sentencing at the Ministry for some wrongdoing or other.

Just looking back at Tom, however, as she made her way to an open table nearby, the feeling lifted and was replaced by on of such purity that it made her cheeks flush. If nothing else, she figured she could at least get her fingers thawed out in time before she was expected to look at a menu or pick up a goblet. One step at a time: that was the way she tried to take things when she was in Tom’s presence, especially after all that had gone on between them. Taking things minute by minute was a lot more sensible than charging on full steam ahead, no matter how uncanny for the girl. She would do anything to keep her world perfect, the one where Tom was her balance and solid ground, even if that meant trying a hand at assessing the situation before taking action, regardless of what her instinct was screaming at her to do.

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*sample post taken from another post-war HP site I am on....

Read more: hogwarts-marauders.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=registration&action=display&thread=3#ixzz20pHPRPNT

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