I dunno why, but I just...I just had to write this. Sorry but I'm not sorry.
Disclaimer: What isn't mine? Oh, ya know, just Harry Potter.
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Fred Weasley had a bucket list, one he had intended to keep.
Get a date with Angelina Johnson: Check.
Drop out of school: Check.
Own a joke shop: Check.
Own a successful joke shop: Check.
Die laughing: Check.
Percy Weasley, his annoying prat of a brother, was amazingly able to make this final dream of his come true. Of course, Fred had imagined an old man with his identical twin brother sitting out in the yard, swapping jokes as the wives talked and cooed over grandchildren, the two laughing so hard their hearts gave out simultaneously and died together, laughing, because they did everything together. Two completely different people yet undeniably the same. There were few things they did on their own, separate from the other. He never thought dying would be one of them. Yet here he was, dying, practically dead already.
He was flooded in white light…that's all he could see. Radiant white light that might've blinded him if he wasn't too dead to be blind. There was a voice off in the distance, crying. It sounded like his mum. He pushed it away…he didn't like to hear his mum cry. He couldn't stand it. Slowly, the white started to take shape. He could see a door with a sign that read 'OPEN'. He glanced around but saw no one on the usually busy street of Diagon Alley. He looked in the window. The shop was completely empty, which was strange to see. No, wait a minute…he saw something move! Yes! There, in the corner of the shop, near the sweets gags!
Quickly he opened the door, which felt strange; not quite solid, yet definitely tangible against his skin…or was that him? Fred shook his head and continued hurrying through the shop, trying to find the solitary man. He was in a strange attire with his heeled boots and purple robes. He seemed familiar, Fred realized. Where had he seen this man, with his long silvery beard?
"Hello Mr. Weasley. Quite the impressive shop you have here! Shame I never visited…you have quite the selection," Albus Dumbledore turned to smile at Fred, who gaped at his former Headmaster.
"B-but—you…you're dead! You're dead! Is this it? Am…am I truly dead now?" Fred questioned, swallowing hard. Then he realized he had nothing to swallow. His mouth was dry. He glanced down at his hands. He didn't look dead…but they never look dead…then, out of the corner of his eyes, he flickered. "I'm dead, aren't I Professor?"
Albus sighed sadly. The happy glint in his eyes dampened as he removed his half-moon glasses to rub his eyes. "I am very sorry to tell you that you are indeed correct. But such is the price of a great battle; if you hadn't died today, you would've eventually. Death is but a patient entity awaiting us all. Oh, you might've gone much more peacefully, but all the same. The same grief would've struck your family and you would still have ended up here."
Fred looked to the door as the bell rang to signal someone coming in. He saw a young boy with flaming red hair in gelled spikes with faint freckles that riddled his tanned face and dark but warm and mischievous eyes ran into the shop. Slowly, Fred and Dumbledore seemed to look more like the ghosts around Hogwarts as the shop took on slightly obnoxious colors. Dumbledore placed a hand on Fred's shoulder and a finger to his lips, telling Fred to watch silently. Fred's attention was drawn back to the door as a man wearing a casual business suit walked in laughing.
"Dad!" the little boy exclaimed. "Dad! Do I get to hang out with you at the shop all day? Please!"
The boy's father, who also had flaming red hair and freckles laughed good-naturedly. "Thought you wanted to see your cousins today?"
"I do…but they can always come here! I love helping you in the shop! Please?!"
"Hmm…only if you tell me your latest idea for a new product." The boy's eyes grew wider and he looked happier than ever as his dad said those words. He launched into a whole spiel about an upgrade to the Flying Whizbeez and a toy broom that, once the rider got on, hovered and jerked around like a muggle contraption in the shape of a bull he saw on the telly at James's house. Fred watched as more people floated in and out of the shop. The little boy had even ran right through him to retrieve something from the backroom. A woman came in and Fred's heart nearly stopped (did he even have a heart still?). It was Angelina. She smiled as the red-haired man made a final sale before flipping the sign to read 'CLOSED'. She kissed the man on the check before calling out for the little boy—"Fred! Come on, sweetheart, we're meeting up with Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry at The Leaky Cauldron!"
Fred turned to Dumbledore as the boy ran through him again to hug Angelina tightly before pulling both her and his father out the door excitedly. Fred listened to the bell as the door slammed shut and the red-haired man locked it. Fred knew who this red-haired man was of course. And he couldn't have felt happier for George or more honored that George and Angelina had named their son after him.
"Is this the future Professor?" Fred couldn't help but ask. He hoped it was. He hoped it would be a long time before he met with George here in this afterlife. Albus Dumbledore smiled warmly upon Fred.
"Yes, I believe it is in sense," Dumbledore chuckled as he continued to browse the sweets. He ran a hand through one of the bowls before producing a bright yellow candy.
Fred nodded in agreement. "Good," He stated, headed for the door to Diagon Alley. "Though it's a little weird seeing my twin brother and my girlfriend with their kid. But I'm happy that they're going to get a happy ending."
The bell above the shop door rang before Fred was anywhere near it. An older man stepped through, his grey-white hair thin and deep crows-feet upon his eyes. He had a cane which he leaned heavily upon and gazed around the shop in wonder. The old man's eyes found Fred and suddenly he was crying and smiling and laughing. He seemed to be becoming younger as he walked the threshold to Fred. And Fred was amazed at who stood before him.
It was George. A gloriously young George in an old man's clothes and a now useless cane in his right hand. It was a George who looked no different than the day Fred and he had opened the shop.
"Fred," George's voice was a hoarse whisper almost as he pulled Fred into an embrace. Although it couldn't have been more than mere minutes since Fred had died, it felt like a lifetime. It felt like Fred had been gone for many years. He supposed he was gone for many years if George's first appearance in the doorway was anything to go by. Fred gripped George tight and could feel his eyes beginning to sting.
"Fred," George repeated. "I promised myself once that I was to live long and happy. That I was to live a life full of laughter, because that's what you would've done. I'm glad to say I've done it. But I still would've liked to have done it with you Fred. I missed you."
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Yeah...this was actually a really old idea I had. I kinda discovered a half-finished version like maybe two and a half hours ago and decided I should finish it. Hope you enjoyed it (for the most part at least).
~Teen Author
