The sun has slowly begun to rise and it shone brightly into the eyes of certain person. It didn't cause him to stir much, hardly at all in fact. The man had been lost in thought, reminiscing in the past in fact. His mind was lost to his memories, the times when he would spend all his time with his twin. Together Fred and George would accomplish anything they'd set their mind to! Now though, it was only George that remained. His life had been a great deal more boring without Fred around.
Loosing him was the worst thing that had ever happened to George. When he ha first seen his twins body in the great hall he had thought that he was merely asleep, or unconscious, though there was that horrible feeling in the bit of his stomach telling him the truth. The horrible, gruesome truth that honestly, no one would ever want to here about their twin, no matter how much they claimed to hate or loath them.
A long sigh escaped the man on the bed and a frowned showed faintly on his features, it was definitely not something someone would ever forget or get over in only one life time. He was grateful for the happy memories though, like when they had started their infamous shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The business had started out as a great success, although it rivalled Zonko's joke shop at one point, it soon over took it and they ended up buying Zonko's joke shop, not wanting it to close down. That was the first of many branches from WWW's.
Soon a small smile replaced the frown on his face as the memories seemed to go back further, to a more innocent time. It was hard to think of a truly happy memory that didn't have Fred in it, which was quite an unfair thing to say. No matter how true it was.
'A loud scream came from the burrow, one that could have probably been heard miles away, but only fields and trees vacated the area surrounding the burrow. Only a passer by would have heard, and they were quite rare. The twins soon came running from said burrow, not long after the scream, giggling madly with each other. They looked no older than eight, no younger than six.
"Did you see mums face?" the slightly taller one asked, quite breathless from all the laughing he'd done, quite a proud grin on his face.
"Yeah! I think… we've outdone ourselves today, Fred" replied the other, just as breathless. Their giggles soon died down as they carried on running, now focused on getting away from their mother's rage.'
George chuckled softly at the memory, in the end of their growth spurt; he ended up being the taller one, even if it was only a slight difference. Not that it really mattered now. The smile that had managed to grow seemed to fade away and he turned his head slowly to look out of the window. Sometimes he would wish he could fall in love with the sky, its change was reliable, it was always there, always so beautiful. Sadly you could only admire it from a far, and love it, yes, but not /be/ in love with it. Not love it like it was a close friend, or relative, or even a lover.
Another heavy escaped him, which led to a small coughing fit. After a few coughs a nurse rushed in with some water and helped him drink it. The cold liquid soothed his throat and caused the coughs to die down and his heavy breathing to return. The ginger hated being old, he'd greyed out quite quickly over the years, his skin became wrinkled and a slouch made him appear shorter. People would say his eyes were the same, though George didn't think that was true. They probably hadn't been the same since Fred had died.
Finally though, George felt like he was coming to the end of his days. Maybe he'd even be reunited with his twin in the end, unlikely as it was; the hope still filled the old man. Then as George took a deep, final breath and his heavy eye lids began shut slowly, he was happy to think that it was his time to go, to sleep, just had Fred had so long ago.