George sat in the empty room, gazing at the knife in his hand, nefarious thoughts in his mind. Stabbing himself. It wasn't the brave death that Fred had, but it would have to do. He looked around the room he was in, it had no furniture and the dirty, pale yellow wall paper was peeling. A neglected abandon house didn't have the same splendor as Hogwarts, where he would have liked to die, but this was the only place where he could do it uninterrupted.
Alone. That was how he wanted it to happen. He was alone after all, completely alone now that Fred was gone. He didn't want any heros running in and saving him from his death, and he certainly did not want any of his family finding him. They wouldn't know that he was gone from the shop. He didn't talk to them any more...it was too painful, his depression ran too deep.
So it was in this shabby run-down house where his end would come. It was almost a metaphor for him, this house. Once splendid and full of life, but now a crucial element was gone and there was only the dull decay of time to keep it company. He lifted the knife to his heart, where it glinted dangerously with the red light of the receding sun. Then he saw her.
There was a girl sitting in the corner, watching him with a look of good natured patience on her face. He gaped at her, surely there wasn't another human on earth who would ever want to enter this god forsaken house? "I'm going to kill myself," he announced, just to make sure it was his imagination.
"Alright then," She replied placidly, staring at a wall fixture with interest. "Don't let my presence stop you. I'm just a humble thief seeing what I can plunder, please, go about your business."
"I'm going to kill myself," He repeated, a bit incredulous that she had made no attempt to, and didn't make any indication of, trying to stop him. What kind of terrible person was she?
"Power to ya brother," She said raising her fist in a triumphant manner, walking over to the lamp to examine it more closely.
"I'm going to kill myself now." He stated, again putting tip of the knife to his chest, staring at her thunderstruck.
"No time like the present!" She said in a tone close to cheerful, removing the fixture from the wall and turning to look at him. Their eyes met, and for a moment their eyes searched each other's depths. Then, they began to laugh.
The knife slashed through the air uselessly as he laughed at the thought of death, the thought that this thief in the twilight wouldn't stop him, and that she was laughing too. They laughed together at failed suicide attempts and things that could never be regained. And, as he laughed, George never felt more understood in his life. She had searched his soul with her gaze.
This woman, this nameless girl who had known him for not more than three minutes was laughing manically with him as though they were old friends. No, better than old friends, lovers, maybe. They clutched at each other for support as they fell to the ground, expressing mirth for the cruelest of things. And somewhere in his mind he was dimly aware of what seemed like his entire family (Harry, Hermione, Fleur, all his nieces and nephews, and Lee Jordan included) came bursting into the shabby room, shouting his name, but he didn't care. He had found something not even Fred could have given him (though, he was not quite sure what), and was laughing now just for the sake of laughing. She was precious to him now.
This is what he'd been looking for, even if he hadn't known it. He realized this as all the people who had ever loved him came rushing through the battered door. Even as they wrestled each other to get the knife out of his limp hand, all he could think about was his witching hour thief and how her blind faith in his resolve had saved him more then all the pleading from his brothers and tears from his mother. As they cried for him to live he laughed, for the fact of his twin's final act had finally occurred to him; Fred had died laughing, and George continued to laugh for the beauty of it.
It slowly dawned on his family that he was not, indeed, going to kill himself, and were subdued into a kind of shock. They stared as the unlikely pair rolled themselves on the dirty floor, trying valiantly not to wet themselves. Where once they had been shouting his name urgently, they were now asking it as if they were afraid.
"Have I introduced you all to my future wife?" George slurred, brushing the tears from his eyes.
"Your...Your wife...dear?" inquired Mrs. Weasly hesitantly.
George laughed again and looked his girl in the eyes once more, both of them grinning madly. "Yeah, but don't ask me her name, she hasn't told me it yet." They gazed at each other, both their eyes sparkling.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox If you don't review, George will kill himself. He told me so. (Please review, I don't want George to die!) TBT-OUT!