AN: Sorry guys, this is a one shot, I promise I will write the Last Battle more...my computer crashed and I have to retype all of chapter 8 (along with every other story I own) so it'll be a while, and I wanted to write a story so that I could warn everyone! Besides, it was just a spark of inspiration, and I wanted to get it out there...enjoy, oh and i promise there is a semi-happy ending! Review please!
Kitty
The street had never looked so gray. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. There was the store, the center of our post-Hogwarts lives. I walked up to the small building. It was dark inside, shadows thrown over the merchandise. I flicked my wand towards the door and heard a click. I paused and waited for the door to open in front of me, but of course it never did. Footsteps came and went behind me and I could feel their stares as I stood in front of the door, motionless. Finally, I mustered the courage and opened the door. The bell tinkled happily above my head.
"Come on! You guys have to have a bell! Every other store does!"
"Ginny, we do not want a bell!"
"Fred, come on, be reasonable. It will brighten the mood!"
"Does it get any brighter?"
"Just hang the bell"
Well the bell couldn't lighten the mood today. I turned around and closed the door slowly, trying not to ring the bell. Once the door was shut, I faced the store. Everything was how we had left it. The merchandise was haphazardly organized around the main room. There was the curtain, three-quarters closed. The cash register's drawer was opened, freshly emptied from a week of sales. I waited for Fred to turn on the lights and spread his arm wide, embracing our successful sales adventure, but of course he didn't, and he never would again. I closed my eyes and breathed in the air. The scent of laughter was in the air. Most people would say that laughter had no scent, but Fred and I had proved them wrong with this store. People walked in and asked us what the scent was, if we burned candles, if we sprayed the air with fresheners, or if we cast a spell on the room. No, we hadn't, we just made everyone laugh, and the store created its own scent. It was indefinable, but it made you smile and it brought happy memories to everyone. My eyes opened and I walked slowly over to the cash register. I dumped the bag of galleons, sickles, and knuts into the metal contraption. The coins jangled merrily against each other, falling un-orderly into a large pile. I smiled as I remembered the argument that had ensued.
"Really George, you have to have some order!"
"Of course not Hermione! The chaos is half of the atmosphere of the store!" I smiled at Fred as he explained to Hermione the reason for our laziness.
Maybe, now that I was alone, I should separate the different coins. My heart lurched at the thought. How could I dare change anything? I looked around the store, hoping for a reason not to open it. When I found nothing, I took yet another deep breath and flipped the sign so that it said "We're creating chaos now, come on in!"
Within five minutes, a young boy walked in. He stared wondrously at all the products. "Wow, mister!" he said. I had to smile at his wide eyes. "Where'd you get all this stuff?"
"My...I invented it," I said, swallowing pass the lump that had formed. I leaned my elbow on the counter and cradled my head. For a few minutes I just watched the kid as he lovingly ran his fingers over various goods.
"Can you learn to do that?" he finally asked.
"I don't know, it's always worth a try," I said. "How old are you?"
"Well, I'm fourteen, or I will be in a seventeen days," he said. He was older than he looked. He had red hair. I don't know why, but it seemed important that he did.
"What's your name?"
"Rick," he said. His eyes never left the items on display all around the room.
"Well Rick, what would you say to helping me out for the day?" I couldn't bare the thought of running the store by myself, without Fred around.
Rick's eyes lit up as if I had told him that his birthday was really today. "Really?"
"Yeah, it'll be fun."
"Gee, thanks, mister!"
"Quit that mister stuff! I'm not old...anymore," I said. The corners of my mouth twisted awkwardly up as I remembered the time Fred and I had tried to sneak over the age line in fifth year.
"What do you mean anymore?" Rick asked.
"Well, in fifth year w...I tried to get across an age line at school and it gave me a nice long silver beard." I stroked the air where the beard had been. "Made u...me look dignified," I said, laughing.
"Where did you go to school?"
"Hogwarts."
"Wait! I've heard of you!"
"Yeah, I own this store," I said. For the first time, Rick's fingers left the shelves and he turned to face me fully. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, Rick looked so much like Fred...he must be a cousin or something.
"No! You're a Weasely!"
"That is the name of the store..." This boy was starting to confuse me.
"No! You created the Weasely!"
"Huh?" He was making no sense.
"This seventh year, Euan Abercrombie, he was Quidditch captain, told me he was going to pull a Weasely last year! And he did! He acciod his broom and flew right out of school!" I had to laugh. So Fred and I were still remembered there. It had been six years since Fred and I had left much to the vexation of Umbridge, but apparently, we were still famous.
"Euan?" Rick nodded his head. His eyes were staring at me, as if he was waiting for me to confirm the wild rumors. "I remember that kid, he was a first year when Fred and I had left."
"You really left school? And under Umbridge? Wow, you two were brave!"
"Nah, we were just sick of her," I said shrugging my shoulders.
"Where is Fred anyway?" Rick asked.
"He's...he's...he's dead." Suddenly, the store was cold. The magical scent of laughter was gone. I had never said that before, and now that I said it, it was that much more real to me. Rick looked crestfallen, as if a celebrity that he adored had died. Then I realized that, to him, Fred and I were celebrities at Hogwarts, especially if we were still talked about today. I bent my head, and tried to wipe a layer of dust that wasn't there off of the counter. Tears began to form in my eyes and I blinked furiously, trying to get rid of them without Rick seeing.
"George, just go!"
"Fred, I can't leave you behind!"
"Dad needs you, I'll take care of Mum. Get Ron and Ginny from the store too, they aren't safe there!" I looked at the crumpled form of my dear mother. Fred stared at me with an urgency that was foreign in his happy eyes. "George, GO!" He bent his head and patted Mum on the forehead. He ripped a piece off of the bottom of his robe and started to wipe the blood away.
"Fred..." I said helplessly.
"GO!"
With that, I apparated to the Weasely Wizarding Wheezes location. I found my little brother and sister huddling in the stockroom. Their wands were raised, though the hands that held the pieces of wood shook.
"It's just me," I said as comfortingly as I could.
"George!" Ginny cried; she launched herself at me, tears flying.
"C'mon you two, we have to go help Dad, he's down at the other end of the street." I pulled them behind me and strode down the street.
---
"We are gathered here today to say our goodbyes to not one dear person, but two amazing people." Ginny wept silently next to me. I wanted to reach out to her and comfort her, but nothing I could say right now would help. "Molly Weasely and Fred Weasely, mother and son, died together. A dozen Death Eaters attacked them in their own home last Friday. Fred had been trying to help his mother, who had been attacked while grocery shopping earlier that day. She had escaped and came home, seeking refuge. Unfortunately, she died hours later at the hands of unknown wizards and witches." The two caskets were then lowered simultaneously as the preacher asked if anyone wanted to say a few words. To my surprise Harry stepped forward first, I hadn't even known he was there.
"Mrs. Weasely was like a mother to me. I still remember the first day I had met her, I didn't know how to get onto platform 9 3/4..." Harry's voice cracked and he fought to regain control. "Ever since then, she has looked after me, asking after my health, knitting me a Weasely sweater every Christmas, I finally felt like I had a family. I will sorely miss her presense, along with Fred's. I remember playing Quidditch with him, joking around, and sharing more than a few adventures. I don't ever remember seeing Fred far from George though, ever since the first day I had seen them. They were teasing Mrs. Weasely about keeping them straight, and to be honest, I only just learned the secret. Fred's wand was always in his left back pocket and it was eight inches long and made of a dark wood. George kept it in the opposite pocket and was made of a lighter wood and was twelve inches long." I laughed out loud, causing Harry to smile slightly. I had never thought of that difference! So that was why Harry couldn't tell me from Fred when we had switched wands the one day. "Just kidding!" Harry said, smiling through the tears that were brimming in his eyes. "Not that it isn't true, but honestly, I don't know how I tell them apart, but that's always a sure way to do it." Harry's voice cracked again as he realized he would never have to tell Fred and I apart again. "Mrs. Weasely and Fred meant so much to me and everyone I know. They will be missed forever, that much I do know." Harry bowed his head and disappeared into the crowd.
"I have something I need to read," I said, surprising everyone including myself. My voice was oddly strong and unwavering. I reached into my pocket as I stepped forward and pulled out a slip of parchment. "Fred gave me this at the beginning of the war and told me to read it at his funeral if he died during the war." I paused a moment to take a breath and let my words sink into everyone there. "He told me, 'If for some reason I can't get myself out of the war still laughing, read this at my funeral.' Well, this is what it says." I breathed once again; I couldn't break down while reading in front of everyone. "What are you all crying about?" I started, doing my best to read it in a light voice like I knew Fred would have wanted. "I'm dead but not gone! Now all of you quit sniveling and go have a party! The good side has won, or it will win! I don't know when I died, but I know that it wasn't...or won't be...at a time at which everyone has forgotten how to laugh. If you have...well then, give my dear brother some galleons and buy some pranks! Only seven galleons a laugh, only joking. Ginny, don't you dare go moping around the house, I don't care who has died, just promise me you'll keep up the Weasely pranking tradition, oh, and don't be afraid to prank George once in a while so his head doesn't get too big. Sorry, brother." I had to stop a minute as he addressed me in his letter. I started again, quieter now, "George, keep the store running full speed! And even though I'm gone, don't you dare stop laughing. I'm terribly sorry, but you'll have to finish your own sentences now!" I could hear his laughter ringing as I thought of him writing this note. "Harry, don't blame yourself for everything, it's all voldie-wart's fault! Everyone else, George has a box of tasty treats waiting for you, ten sickles a piece. Oops! I forgot, the gold ones are galleons, so that's ten galleons apiece! Only joking! They're on the house. Sorry if I make you go out of business George! Now let me see you laughing, I want you doubled over laughing in glee that it's over!" I paused as the parchment instructed. I saw a few people laughing silently. "That's a little better, but far from perfect. Funerals aren't supposed to be sad, so go party! Butterbeers around, on me!" I folded the piece of paper back up and put in my pocket.
"George?" I heard Rick's voice. He must have been calling my name for a while, because his voice sounded concerned.
"Yeah? Sorry, I just miss him," I said. I faked a sneeze so that I could wipe the tears off of my face without Rick knowing.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know."
"It's alright, not many people know."
"It must be painful to be in the store..." Rick started looking around.
"Yeah, it is. Fred and I invented everything here together, we started the store together, and..." I stopped as my voice got stuck in my throat. I swallowed the lump, only to have tears rise in my eyes instead. "and we were always together...I've never been alone," I finished. The tears began to slide silently down my face and Ricky walked over to me. He clapped me on the shoulder, and though he was several years younger than I was, it was somehow comforting. I pulled myself together, stuck my chin up and offered Rick a sweet. Fred had told me to keep the store running full speed, and that was what I was going to do. There was a loud squawk and I laughed just like Fred had instructed on Saturday, only two days ago, doubled over. The bell above the door rang and once again it brightened the store. I smiled brightly at my first customer of the new day.
