Written for Round 4 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition
As Chaser 2, this week's challenge was to choose a number between 1 and 8, and then write a story based on the emotion corresponding with that number. My chosen emotion was "Surprise". My optional prompts were: Bed, Stupid, & Too Short.
Dead Man's Switch
The creak of a stair. The sighing of the wind through the shingles. The groaning of the ghoul in the attic. The clang of a pan. The chatter of his family. These were the sounds George Weasley was used to hearing upon entering The Burrow.
Silence. Complete and total silence from every person, enchanted object, and creature. A silence that screamed in pain and echoed in sadness. These were the sounds that George Weasley now heard upon entering The Burrow.
The irony of it all blared like a headline in his mind. The war was over, and Harry had defeated Voldemort…everyone was supposed to be happy now. Everywhere he went he saw people celebrating with feasts, parties, and smiles…always smiles. It was the smiles that hurt him the most. Why was it that all of these people could laugh and smile when he no longer could?
The truth was, for most people the Battle of Hogwarts had meant the end of the pain, fear, and oppression, but for the families that had suffered a loss, it had only meant the beginning. Since that fateful day, George had been merely a shadow of himself for the very simple reason that half of him was gone: taken by a Death Eater's curse.
Now, for the first time since that day, George stood in the doorway of his and Fred's childhood home swarmed by the memories he had been so far fighting to suppress. He remembered the time their mother had summoned all of their Ton Tongue Toffies before they left for the World Cup and how angry they had been at her. That memory was closely followed by how relieved she had been when they returned safely. He remembered how excited they had been preparing to leave the kitchen for their new living space in Diagon Alley, and he remembered the many nights of family dinners that had mostly been spent torturing Percy.
As it was the middle of the night, George had no one to interrupt his thoughts as he traveled up the stairs towards his old bedroom. He wasn't sure how he would take seeing it again as though nothing had changed, but he couldn't deny the pull he felt towards it. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
As he had suspected, the room hadn't changed an inch since he and Fred had left it; old order forms littered the floor, disregarded potion ingredients were scattered everywhere, and clothes that were too small had been left in a pile by the closet. George closed the door behind him, and the room was plunged into semi-darkness. Once his eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, George glanced around at the small room. His eyes finally landed on the bed…not his bed, but his bed.
How many endless nights had they spent lying in bed and talking tirelessly about pranks, plans, Quidditch, girls, and anything else that happened to come up? Now, though, the bed was only a cold reminder of what would never be again. Against his will, George felt the long unshed tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes.
"Why?" he whispered desperately to the room. "Why Fred?"
The next day was the funeral. George and the rest of his family more resembled the ghoul in the attic instead of their usual cheery selves, but, in all fairness, a large part of their joy was being laid to rest today.
Before the actual burial, George stood in the house staring down into the lifeless face of his twin. "Your life was just too short, mate," he whispered. "I guess we were stupid to think we had forever. We always figured someone else would always get the short end, or that if something bad happened it would happen to both of us. Of all the people…" he sobbed now, "of all the bloody people in that battle, why did it have to be you that that spell hit?! Why, Fred, why?!" He was almost yelling now in his pain and anger. "We're twins! That means we're always together! I don't know how to be without you…I don't want to be without you! Why did that stupid spell have to find you? Come back, you stupid idiot! Come…back!" He broke down completely, and clutched desperately at his twin's body.
He only looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "George," his father coaxed gently. "It's time. You have…you have to let him go now, son."
George nodded hopelessly and let go. He stared at Fred's face until the lid of the coffin hid it from view forevermore.
The remainder of the funeral was a surreal affair. People who didn't understand offered their sympathy to practically deaf ears. George simply sat and stared at his lap while people tried desperately to comfort him. "George," a small voice finally whispered, and he looked up into the tear stained face of his sister. "He-he wouldn't want to see you l-like this, George…" she offered.
"Oh Ginny…" George sighed and held his arms out for her. She huddled into them and sobbed.
"Wh-why did he l-l-leave us?" she sobbed.
"I don't know, Gin…" George whispered trying to hold back more tears. "I don't know."
Harry Potter sighed as he and his small team of Aurors walked across the grounds of yet another Death Eater home. It had been several days since the funeral for Fred, but the shock and pain still stung if he dwelled on it for too long; he knew that it always would. He had been hired as an Auror almost at once and had been leading small teams of people to search the houses of known Death Eaters for any lingering dark objects or prisoners. Today, they were searching Malfoy Manor at the special request of Mrs. Malfoy herself. After the war had ended, she had wanted all reminders of the dark time gone from her life, and had practically begged Harry to raid her house.
Harry knocked on the front door and didn't have to wait long before Mrs. Malfoy flung open the door. "Welcome Mr. Potter," she said. "Please feel free to search anywhere and everywhere."
"We will be careful to leave everything exactly as it was when we came in, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry replied politely before ordering his team to different points of the house.
While his team diligently searched, Harry remained in the lobby of the house to wait for anything his team might bring back. Suddenly, he heard his name being called from the dungeons. He hurried down the stairs to see his partner Karen waiting for him. "What is it?" he asked.
"I think someone may be down here," she whispered. "I thought I heard something, but I wanted to check with you before I went looking to see just in case it was one of them."
Harry nodded and beckoned her to follow him. "Hello!" he called. "Is there anyone down here?"
"Harry?" a feeble voice called from a corner.
Harry motioned for Karen to go ahead, and he followed close behind her. What he saw, however, made his jaw plummet to the floor.
"Harry, mate, is that really you?" the voice croaked.
"Lumos!" Harry cried, and the room lit up.
The figure on the ground curled an arm around his head to protect his eyes from the sudden light. His flaming red hair stood proud despite the pale pallor of his skin.
"Fred…Fred Weasley?" Karen gasped.
Harry tightened his lip and knelt down beside him. "Who are you?"
Fred turned to look at Harry as though he had lost his mind. "Have I really been gone so long you forgot? I'm Fred Weasley, mate."
"You're lying," Harry said. "Fred Weasley died in the Battle of Hogwarts a week ago. I went to his funeral, and I saw him die!"
"Mate…I think you went off your rocker," Fred croaked. "I'm right here."
"Harry…" Karen whispered. "Why would a Death Eater impersonate him now?" she asked. "I mean…the whole world thinks he's dead, so what would be the point? Besides, why would they lock themselves in a dungeon and starve themselves?"
Harry was forced to concede that Karen had a point; there really was little sense in pretending to be a dead man, but it just seemed so farfetched that Fred was really alive.
"What object did you give me in my third year, and how do you open it?" Harry asked.
"George and I gave you the Marauder's Map, and you open it by saying, 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'," Fred replied weakly but with confidence.
Harry sank to the floor. "How did this happen?" he asked. "How did you get here?"
"Not to be rude, mate, but could I maybe get some water or something first?" Fred asked.
Karen hurried off and came back with a piece of bread and a glass of water. "You have to slowly build your appetite back up," she explained gently.
Fred thanked her and downed the bread and water within seconds. "Anyway, how I got here. I was on my way to the next site for Potterwatch, and a whole bunch of snatchers got me. Once they realized who I was, they brought me here, but I guess the Malfoys had already left for the battle that you keep talking about. Well, one of the snatchers got the brilliant idea to take Polyjuice Potion and become me to get information from the people at Potterwatch."
"But when they went to the school, they found the battle already in progress and continued to play the part," Harry added. "That's why you weren't with George."
"What?" Fred cried. "What happened to him?!"
"Nothing happened to him," Harry explained hurriedly. "I was with Ron and Hermione when you and Percy came around the corner."
"What happened?" Fred pressed.
"Well, one of the Death Eaters shot a curse, and the wall collapsed. When we got the rubble cleared, we found you lying dead in the middle of it."
"Oh wow," Fred sighed. "So now my whole family thinks I kicked the bucket…"
"Yeah they do," Harry admitted. "They're not doing too well with it either. George hasn't smiled since the battle, and Ginny's depressed all the time."
"Well that's no good," Fred cried. "I've gotta get out of here and fix this."
"Whoa easy, mate," Harry said as Fred stumbled trying to stand. "I'm gonna have to take you to the Ministry first just to confirm it actually is you."
"Stupid protocol," Fred grumbled.
"Stupid spell," George sighed looking down at his twin's grave. "Stupid, stupid spell!" he cried. Sinking down onto the grass, he stared at the name and date on the headstone. "That is way too short of a life, mate," he whispered. "You were too crazy to lose like that. The world had so many more years to get out of that wacky imagination of yours, so why did you have to go and get yourself killed?"
"Talking about your brother behind his back? George, I thought you were better than that, mate!" a voice scolded from behind the headstone.
George's eyes shot up to see a carbon copy of himself smiling down at him but with both ears intact. "What the-" he cried as he tried to stand but fell out of shock.
Fred laughed. "Bro, it's me!" he said with a grin. "I was in the Malfoy dungeon; a group of snatchers caught me and decided to try and get some info by becoming me. That person you've been crying over for the past week is some smelly snatcher."
"You've got to be kidding me!" George cried. "You've been alive this whole time?!"
"It's really me, mate, I promise," Fred said seriously.
"In that case, you better run before I kill you!" George said with a smile. He leapt up and lunged at his twin who turned and ran down the hill towards the house.
"Hey watch it!" Fred cried as he ran.
George finally tackled his twin, and they rolled the rest of the way down the hill and into the backdoor of the house where the rest of the family was waiting with Harry.
No sooner had Fred and George come to a stop inside the house when Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek of joy and tackled her son. Ginny was right behind her, and the rest of the family soon followed.
"Oi easy, or the lot of you will kill me!" Fred cried from the bottom of the pile.
The rest of the evening was spent reveling in the knowledge that Fred was alive and in the house with them. George was never more than a foot from his twin, and neither was Ginny. Finally, Mrs. Weasley called for bedtime, and Fred and George climbed the stairs to their old room.
George climbed into his bed and looked over to see Fred doing the same. "You're staring at me again," Fred teased.
"I'm just waiting for all of this to be a dream and see the bed empty again," George admitted.
"Sorry I put you through all of that, mate," Fred said seriously. "I had no idea all that was going on."
"It's not your fault," George sighed. "It was just…so weird being without you."
"Hey, it wasn't any easier on my end," Fred pointed out. "I had no idea where you were."
"Fair enough," George conceded. "But I'm still glad it's over."
"Me too mate…me too," Fred agreed. "I'm afraid I'll be leaving again soon though."
"WHAT?!" George shouted, sitting bolt upright.
Fred laughed. "Calm down mate! I just mean on a date with this girl from the Auror department. Her name's Karen and she's the one who found me."
"Kind of got that damsel in distress thing backwards, didn't you?" George laughed.
Fred shrugged. "Oh well, and least my death caused one good thing, right?"
"Yeah, but do me a favor, alright?" George grinned.
"What's that?"
"Don't pretend to die every time you want to go out with a girl," George laughed.
"Good point," Fred agreed. "I think Mum's nerves are too short to try that one again."
Both boys were silent for a moment, but then…
"So, you wanna go freak people out who still think I'm dead tomorrow by following each other around all day?" Fred suggested.
"Fred…I think that's a brilliant idea," George agreed.