More without what he'd come to think of as Fred's magic, actually, but he nodded. Then shrugged. "It is what it is, I guess, right? Glad to be alive and all that. Fair few that aren't, after they came up against this crap."
He ran a hand through his hair, pushing open the door to the tiny shop. It wasn't much more than a crowded little cubby stuffed full of countertop and fryer, and some tables with stools that were always overfull and you ended up standing anyway.
"Bet you can," George said after they'd given their order. "Like when you were a kid, home summers, before you came to our place. Just every day."