Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition as Beater 1 for the Appleby Arrows.

Prompts:

'Growing up? Pfft. Who wants to do that?'

(word) blush

(quote) "A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it." George Augustus Moore, The Brook Kerith

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Duh.


When Fred and George Weasley were nine, they knew they wanted to spend the rest of their lives playing games.

"Mum! Fred hid my wand and I need to pack it for tomorrow!"

"I'm not Fred," George sang.

"Really, Percy. You would have thought after all this time you could tell the difference between us."

"It's too bad not one of you is missing a limb. At least then I could tell you two apart," Percy muttered. "And give me back my wand!"

"Fred give Percy back his wand!"

"He's not Fred, I am!"

"Mum, tell Ginny to stop following me. She keeps repeating everything I say!"

"She keeps repeating everything I say!"

"That's it Gin! Don't listen to mum, keep annoying Ron."

"It's probably not a good idea to encourage, Bill."

"Probably not, Charlie, but I am the oldest and therefore the wisest."

"Hello, Weasleys!"

"DAD!" All the Weasley children made their way to hug their father.

"Oh, Arthur. Thank Merlin you're home," Molly said, as she kissed her husband on the cheek.

"Now come everyone, let's all go sit in the living room, yes?"

"Oh, but dad..."

"Yes, George?" Arthur said, smiling down at the mischievous looking redhead.

"Aren't you missing something?" George asked slowly.

Arthur furrowed his brow, yet still amused. "Why no, I don' think so. Should I be?"

"Ugh," Percy groaned, "He's gone and taken your wand, just like he did to me!"

"It was more of a team effort," George drawled, rolling his eyes. "Fred gets at least-"

"Half the credit, don't leave me out now!" Fred finished for George.

Chuckling, Arthur patted his twins on the head, "Ah, they just want to play a little game, Perce! Well then boys," he paused, probably for dramatic effect. "Game on."

Fred and George smiled at one another, surrounded by a bubble of happiness.


When Fred and George Weasley were thirteen, they decided that girls weren't that icky after all.

"What was that?" George asked, with a smirk on his face. They had just finished Charms and were on their way to lunch.

"What was what?" Fred muttered, knowing exactly what 'that' George was asking about was.

"Angelina Johnson made you blush!" he exclaimed.

Fred was quick to defend himself, "No she didn't! I, uh, we were having a breathing competition."

George shook his head, tutting, "It's cute and all how you thought you could even attempt lying to me, but you can't. You have a crush! Oh Freddie, you're growing up!"

"Growing up? Pfft. Who wants to do that?"

"You do," George smirked, "Apparently."

"I mean, Johnson is pretty, you know, for a girl who has the body of a little boy."

"Mhmm."

"And frankly she's a bit too rude."

"Righttt."

"Don't even let me start on those awful studying habits of hers."

"Whatever you say, brother."

Fred gawked at George, "You still don't believe me?"

"Please," George said, "After spending years lying together, I can see straight through this one. In fact, I think Ron could see through this, and we all know how daft he is when it comes to other people-"

"And what they're thinking," Fred finished for George. "I don't know mate. Angelina is just so... so... so different from other girls," Fred said, his eyes glazing over slightly. "I like that about her," he added, walking faster ahead of George.

"I know," George muttered, "I do too."

But he liked seeing his brother happy. And there were plenty of other girls out there, right?

Right.


When Fred and George Weasley were eighteen they had just decided to leave school and start their own joke shop using the money that Harry had given them the year before.

"Now that we've bought the building, I think it's time to start making more and more of our products. I say we have enough to sell for a week or two, but we definitely should make more. Especially of the-"

"Nosebleed nougats, yeah, I think so too," Fred finished for George.

"And I think it's time to try our hands into making romantic products for our lovely female customers," George winked.

Fred laughed, "I couldn't agree with you more, brother. But only as long as it's legal, unfortunately."

George shrugged, "We've always found a way around the rules in the past."

"No, we always found a way out of not getting into trouble in the past," Fred said, then added, "And besides, I think Dumbledore had a huge hand to play into that."

"Oh Dumbledore and his sense of humor. At least one Professor has one."

"Oh Georgie, you know that Pomfrey and McGonagall always secretly loved our jokes."

"I've heard them compare us to the Marauders before, and if that's not a compliment than I don't know what is."

"Ah yes, the Marauders," Fred said fondly, "I wish we could have had the pleasure of meeting them."

"We have, you idiot," George said.

"What?"

"It's Sirius and Remus. You know, Padfoot and Moony?"

Fred slapped himself, "Wow even with the facts staring me straight in the face I still couldn't see it."

"And Peter, of course. Wormtail?"

"Huh," Fred said, "I hope they were careful in school. I mean, Dumbledore had to at least expect that they were animagus."

"I'm sure they covered their tracks well, just like us."

"We'll have to ask Sirius and Remus next time we see them," Fred smiled.

"I'm sure they have hundreds of stories that would put us to shame," George said.

"Don't undermine us, Georgie. Remember, we're the ones that actually get a chance at living their dreams and spending the rest of their lives making others laugh."

Unfortunately, they would never get to ask Sirius himself about his Marauding days, seeing as he was murdered before they got the chance.


When George Weasley turned twenty-two, he spent the day with a bottle of firewhisky and cake at his brother's grave.

"We're twenty-two today, Freddie," he slurred, raising his bottle.

"Can't believe you've been gone for almost two years." He took another drink.

"It still feels like you're still with me." George messed with the wand in his hand.

"Ah, but I know you're not, otherwise you'd be hitting me upside the head for being so sentimental." He sighed, throwing the piece of wood at the ground.

"'Who is watching the shop, George! You're going to run us out of business if you don't get off your lazy arse!' Or maybe you'd say something about my drinking habits lately. Make some joke about my ear. Yell at me for dating Angelina. Honestly I would give everything to year you say anything," George threw his bottle at Fred's tombstone.

"Dammit, Fred! Merlin why couldn't you have gotten out of the way? Why did you have to leave me alone! I've never been alone, you've always been right there by my side." He was crying now.

Shaking his head, he tried to calm himself, "I'm sorry. I know this isn't your fault. I just- just wish you would here."

George laughed, choking on his tears, "Hell, I'd take you over my lost ear any day."

He spent the next three hours, mourning his lost twin on a day he used to celebrate him.

"A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it," he paused, "Turns out, with you I always felt like I was home." As he finished, George heard someone walking up from behind him.

"George?" The voice called out. "George, honey, let's go."

"He's gone," George choked out, and he felt the person's arms wrap around him.

"I know."

"He's never coming back."

"I know."

"He's never going to finish my sentences for me again."

There was a pause, and the person behind him got up. "Come on," she said, holding out a hand to George. "You have a whole red headed clan who need you, and you need them."

George nodded, letting the hand help pull him up. Grabbing his wand, he vanished the cake and bottle. Then he felt her kiss him.

"Happy birthday, George," she said, then looked down at the grave, kissing her hand and then touching the tombstone. "Happy birthday to you too, Fred," she said. George watched as a tear slid down her face.

"Thank you Angie. For being here," he whispered.

"I'll always be here. Always," she whispered back.