AN: So this idea came to me while I was working on another fan fiction. Only took me a day to think of it and write it, and it just might be the shortest thing I've ever written. I realized too late that people have already done this idea, but I hope you guys like it anyway. Please leave reviews! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this story and the clothes on my back. J.K. Rowling is the beautiful mastermind of the characters. As though you didn't already know that though. :D
On the night of May 1, 2045, I couldn't sleep, just like the countless years before. I dreaded the next day. I sat in bed that night thinking of the ways I could possibly avoid May 2.
I felt Angelina turn over towards me. I knew she was awake even before she grabbed my hand, rubbing my knuckles. After being married for as long as we had, I could tell these small things about her and vice versa.
She sat up and wrapped her arms around me, laying her head on my shoulder. My, how I loved that woman. She really understood how painful this time of the year was for me and she helped me get through it every year, no ifs, ands, or buts. Maybe it was because she grew up with me and Fred, staying our best friend throughout Hogwarts. She was almost as close to him as I was.
No words were said that night, even as the clock struck midnight. May 2, 2045. Fred's 47th death day. I felt the tears slowly fall down my face. It was just another day without him.
Angie looked at me and kissed my tears away, even though she was crying herself. I smiled at my wife, pushing her hair out of her face and kissing her cheek. We laid down in each other's arms and waited patiently for Morpheus to pay us a visit.
I opened my eyes expecting to see the sun shining through our window, Roxanne and Freddie's way of waking us up in the morning. Even though they were adults and out on their own, married with children, they loved to pay us a visit every once in a while and act as though they were kids again, waking us up very early in the morning and jumping on us until we finally got out of bed. I loved my children even more for this.
I got the surprise of my life when I opened my eyes to not sunlight or my kids, but snow. And I was standing right in the middle of it.
I looked around, wondering what was going on. I blinked multiple times to make sure I was awake and not dreaming. Snow at the beginning of May? It just didn't make sense. And why the bloody hell was I standing in the middle of it without a jacket?
I walked in the snow until I came to a pond. To add even more to my surprise, the pond wasn't frozen over. I got on my knees and dipped my hands in the pond, splashing my face with water. I dried my face with my shirt and watched as the water went back to its still form. The next thing I saw when I looked in made me fall over backwards.
My face didn't hold any of the wrinkles that my grandchildren liked to mess with, commenting on how Papa was getting old. My face was so smooth and my gray hair was now the ginger color I'd grown up around.
I was my twenty year old self again.
I looked into the water again, thinking once I took a second glance, everything would be normal, but I still looked twenty years old. And then, everything came together like one big puzzle piece. I was in my own personal heaven. I was dead.
I cried at the realization, but they were happy tears. Happy because if I was dead, that could only mean one thing.
A snowball to the head let me know my theory was true. I stood up, turned around, and smiled a teary smile as I saw him walk towards me, a smile taking over his face as well.
He stopped in front of me, no hugs or anything. Instead, he said three simple words that made laugh, letting me know this was all real.
"It's about time."
The day after her husband's funeral, Angelina sat on her bed, tears rolling silently down her face as she hugged her pillow. She'd been the first to discover George, waking up in his cold arms. She couldn't believe she had lost him, and of all the days.
I shouldn't be surprised though. Everything they did was together, even dying on the same day, even if it was forty-seven years late.
Angelina began frantically wiping her tears away as she heard her door open. She didn't want anyone to see her crying, especially if it was her children or grandchildren. She stayed strong just for them all during the funeral.
"Hello, Freddie," she said as Fred II walked in and sat next to her, smiling a sad smile.
"Hi, Mum," he said. "How are you doing?"
"Good," she said, first nodding her head, but then shaking it, letting the tears continue as she laid her head on her son's shoulder. He was too much like his father and uncle. He would see right through her. "No, hun, I'm not. I miss him so much."
"It's okay, Mum," Freddie said, rubbing her shoulders. "I miss him too."
She looked at her son, noticing something she hadn't before. "Have you cried yet, Freddie?"
"No, I haven't," he admitted. "And I hope not to anytime soon."
"You know it is okay to cry, right?"
"Yeah, I know. Mum, it was no secret that Dad hadn't been the same since Uncle Fred died. I know I wasn't even born then, but from the family stories I've heard, I know he was so much different than the one Roxanne and I knew. I also know that Dad's much happier now because he's with Uncle Fred again. I'm terribly sad to see him gone, but it's reassuring to know he is ten times better now than he was before the second war."
Angelina smiled at her son and hugged him tight. He was right, of course. The twins were more than likely plotting and pulling their latest pranks and tricks at that very moment. They could do that for the rest of eternity, the one thing that always made them happy.
"Hi, Daddy. Hi, Gran," Angie's five year old granddaughter Christina said, coming in and crawling on the bed. "How are you, Granny?"
"Just fine, Christy," Angie said, hugging her. "And you?"
"Brilliant!" she exclaimed. "I made you some candy." She held out her hand, handing her grandmother a piece of chocolate.
"Oh, how sweet of you," Angie said, taking the candy and biting off a piece. "Thank you, darling."
"No. Thank you," Christina said, a sly smile on her face as she crawled off the bed and went back downstairs with her siblings.
Angie turned to her son. "What did she mean by that?"
Freddie laughed as he looked at his mother. "The chocolate turned your tongue blue."
She laughed with her son as he handed her a mirror and looked at her tongue. Yep. Fred and George were still playing their tricks, even in the afterlife. And they were gonna pull them on her through her grandchildren.
FIN
AN: Yeah, this was a bit longer than I thought it would be. But I really hope you guys liked it anyway. Cheers! 3