Written for: The Secrets Challenge on the HPFC forum.

Challenge posted by: Namacub95

AN: Reviews are appreciated :) Hope you like!

"I wanted to commit suicide when my brother died because he was the best friend I ever had and I didn't think I'd survive without him."

-()-

Saving George

Every night for six weeks after the war had ended George refused to sleep in his own room. Because it wasn't his at all – it was theirs, his and Fred's – and it hurt too much to stay there with the knowledge that he'd never be able to roll over in bed and tell him about new ideas he'd had. He'd never be able to tell Fred anything ever again.

He'd been through a series of different emotions in the hours since his twin's death. First and foremost, he was shocked; Fred had always been the more daring of the two and always so alive. Though he was surrounded by people, he felt more alone than ever, and like he was missing some vital organ. A silent survivor's guilt ate away at him and George was angry. He was angry with himself for still having his life to live, angry at Fred for leaving him in a life he no longer wanted to live and angry at everyone else because they looked at him and saw Fred staring back.

The first couple of weeks he locked himself away from it all. He really had tried to cope with it but other people - their family and friends – seemed alienated by him, and that in turn made George feel like there was something wrong with him too. It wasn't his fault that people found it hard to look at him. Even his own mother struggled with it. Molly knew it was selfish but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. She knew he needed her too but every time she did, she only saw one son and it wasn't the one who was still alive.

From as far back as anyone could remember, it had always been Fred and George because Fred was born a whole four minutes before his brother, and never let him forget it. It was a young Fred who played with their toys first before passing them on to George and as they grew up, Fred who planned their pranks and which products they sold.

How would he ever manage without him? They'd always been together, ever since they could crawl. George had been secretly terrified of starting Hogwarts, and even more scared that they'd be sorted into different houses. He never voiced this but Fred had known it anyway. That night when they'd both settled into the Gryffindor dormitories, they stayed awake talking. George had his eyes closed and his brother had assumed he'd fallen asleep, whispering something before climbing into his own bed. But George had still been awake and heard every word. They were words which now caused his eyes to burn with tears: 'It wouldn't have mattered what house you were in to me; you'd still be my brother.'

They'd gone through their Hogwarts years together, side-by-side on the Quiddich pitch although Fred beat George at asking Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball in their sixth year. He and Angelina had dated for a few months after that, but it was still always Fred and George. They left school with a bang, quite literally and started up the business venture they'd dreamed of since they were small. Whenever Fred had needed someone George was there, but where was Fred now that his brother needed him?

The day after Fred's funeral, George went up into the room he and his brother had shared and didn't come down for dinner. The tray of food that Ginny left outside his door remained there. His family was worried about him, but no one knew how to reach out and offer their comfort, especially when they were still grieving themselves. Burying Fred had somewhat eased their pain but it was still going to take time. Both Bill and Charlie had gone up to try and coax him out, met by sounds of mini explosions and what sounded like George sobbing.

Percy would hardly have considered himself closest to his twin brothers – for finding himself the object of their latest pranks got irritating after a while. They'd been complete opposites but he wished he'd got to know Fred better. He too, shared in George's guilt. He'd turned his back on his family when they needed him and it should have been him, not Fred, who'd always tried to make life that little bit happier for his family and friends. His guilt led him to the point where he was standing outside their bedroom and pleading with his brother to let him in. He doubted it would make a difference – expecting the same treatment as his elder brothers had been given – but was surprised when the door swung open.

George was sat in the middle of the floor with a jar of writhing spiders. He lifted them out one by one and pointed his wand at them. His lips barely moved, with a flash of green light, they writhed in agony on the floor before moving no more. Percy moved into the darkened room and shut the door behind him, watching George kill the insects, uncomfortably. Was that how Fred had died? He couldn't remember in the chaos of the events that had followed. "Would you mind not doing that?" He asked, keeping his tone even. His brother looked up, tears rolling miserably down his cheeks. He stared pointedly at the door, not saying anything, but Percy got the point. "I didn't know you knew how to do that," He changed tack quietly.

"Neither did I, until I tried," George spoke finally, his voice hoarse from his tears, lifting the final spider from the jar. "I've found it takes a lot of anger." They both watched as he stunned it because it seemed intent on crawling away, before he raised a shaking hand and cast the killing curse. Once again, there was a flash of green but the spider seemed to shudder more violently than the last, until eventually it was still. George's eyes seemed to light up and slowly he turned the wand on himself. "I can go be with him again Perce!" His tears were gone, replaced by a blazing smile.

Percy's eyes widened when he realised what his brother's intentions were. "No, stop it. Put your wand down," he said sharply. "You don't want to do that, and Fred wouldn't want you to either!"

"How do we know what he would have wanted? He's not here to stop me." For what seemed like an age neither of them moved nor spoke, the silence was eventually broken by George dissolving into more noisy tears. "I miss him Percy," he choked out between sobs, "I don't want to live without him, I can't."

Percy moved towards him awkwardly and clumsily patted him on the back. He didn't know what to do. Offering comfort wasn't his forte. "I know you do," He said heavily. "We all do George."

His brother shook his head, "Not like this you don't, how can you? He was my twin; not yours, not Bill's or Charlie's. Mine!" He stumbled over the words. "None of you care the way he did."

"Do you remember before the battle started, when I came bursting into the Room of Requirement?" George just nodded silently, wondering where Percy was going with the conversation. It wouldn't make a difference though. "Everyone was silent, and then Fleur tried to break the tension. I guess the point I'm trying to make is that no one knew what to say to me then, and now they don't know what to say to you now."

"I'm sorry for the loss of your twin. You must be going through hell' might have been a start," George's voice wavered on the words, "at least then I'd know someone actually tried to understand what I've been going through. Instead they all look at me as though they're seeing a ghost; Fred's ghost," he stopped speaking. "I know it must hurt to look at me, but I can tell you it hurts more being me. I can't even look in the mirror anymore," his voice broke and he hurled his wand angrily across the room, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

Percy felt a hot tear on his cheek; he leaned over George and wrapped his arms around his trembling younger brother. "It's not going to be easy," he said quietly, "you've lost a twin and we've lost a brother, Mum and Dad have lost a son."

"He wasn't just my twin brother, he was the best friend I ever had," George whispered tearfully getting up from the floor and going to sit on his bed. He seemed to have tired of proper tears and buried himself miserably in a pillow. Neither of them spoke anymore and for the moment Percy wasn't worried what George was going to do. He cleared the floor of dead spiders and cast a gentle light over the dark room. His brother crawled under the blankets and his eyes flickered shut involuntarily before opening again and he gave an exhausted yawn.

One day he'd realise that Fred would never truly leave him. He'd be there on dates with Angelina – however uncomfortable it would make them both – and on their wedding day, they'd both be able to sense his approval. He'd be there when they gave birth to Fred II – laughing at the name choice, but there'd be a tear in his eye – and later when Roxanne was born, smiling proudly at his twin. Fred would be there when he proudly looked in the mirror every morning before work, grinning back at him and he'd be the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes at night.

But, Percy knew as he watched George settle down for the first time in weeks, that it'd be a while before that day came. A tear came rolled down his cheek as in his mind's eye he could see Fred lying in the empty bed, and realised that he probably always would.


Reviewers get virtual chocolate pudding ;D