'There is a bug on my window.' "Ya'know, in a normal situation I'd kill you without any remorse, but now, I can't," 'You may have a twin too' George thought to himself. The bug in question seemed to let out a breath of relief. "You're an ugly bug too. Gross green-brown color, with greasy wings," The red head continued. The bug at first quite looked like he though George was no prize either, until he heard the word greasy and registered that as a complement, and sat down comfortably on the window sill. George shook his head, he'd imagined it, bugs can't understand any human language. 'Then why am I talking to it?" He asked himself. 'Because it'll listen without answering back, you git." Answered a part of Fred that still lingered in the back of George's mind.
He accepted this, and started speaking again, settling down onto his squeaky mattress. "It's been days since the final battle. Not sure how many days actually, as soon as it was over I went to rent this room at the Leaky. I couldn't stand to be back at our- my flat. I could've probably stayed with my parents, but I'm not ready to be at home, everyone'll be crying and fussing about, mum would've tried to get me to eat three meals a day, tried talking to me, the rest of the family would've tried talking to me. They've all already tried it here, perhaps you've seen, I don't know how long you've been here, but it would've been even worse at home."
The poor creature stood still, seemingly listening to the boy, but the more George looked at it, the more emotion, and feeling it showed. He tore his eyes away. "I think you're the first person--err well... living being?" He tried uncertainly, the bug nodded it's approval. George went on "Right, the first living being I've spoken to. I haven't uttered a word to anyone else. I haven't smiled or anything, that's what freaks everyone out the most, that I don't even appear to be sad, or mad, or try to laugh it off like I did when I lost my ear, but they dont understand. Even if I don't show it, I miss the bloody bastard, and I'm mad as hell that he died, but I can't even blame anyone but some faceless Death Eaters that crashed a wall. Fred might be upset too, not because he was killed but because he was killed by an efffing wall. Which you got to admit is a pretty stupid way to die." The bug smiled up at him. George almost let himself smile, but stopped himself just in time, only a huff of a half laugh came out of his partially opened mouth.
"Hell, Fred is probably looking at me right now thinking I've lost all my bleeding marbles. Maybe I have." George looked at his little companion, he looked back gravely. 'You haven't lost your marbles, you've just lost your twin... and an ear," Is what the look seemed to say, or was that his head again? Never the less, George half laughed again, and looked away. He stared at his bed side table. On it he had set up the objects he and his dad had found on Fred's person when they took his body back home to await the funeral. Another reason he didn't want to stay with his parents. He didn't want the body to be a constant reminder, 'cause sometimes George could just pretend that Fred was in the loo, or at the shop and that was why he was not by his side.
The small, dingy lamp light emitted an eerie kind of glow on Fred's things. His wand, an Extendable Ear, a few sickels, a recite, the black joker card from the fist deck of muggle trick cards he and George had ever bought for themselves, he always carried the black joker, while George took the red. That was the last of his possessions on him.
George took the card and put it back to back against his joker card. He muttered a permanent sticking charm on them. "At least you two will always be with each other," George said to the cards. 'What's wrong with me? I'm speaking to bugs and inanimate objects, and I can't even speak to my own family." George thought to himself.
He put the card back on the desk, Fred's card side up. And stared at the bug he'd neglected whilst looking Fred's objects. "Well, you can stay here if you like, but if you do I should give you a name." The bug titled an antenna. "Um, so first things first, are you a girl, a bloke, or a transvestite?" George asked. The bug gave George an annoyed look. "Oh, really?" George said with glee, "A transvestite? Well okay were you a bloke turned girl, or girl turned bloke?" George, having the closest thing to a smile in days, said to the irritated bug. The bug huffed and fluttered his/her wings and was seemingly squeaking darkly to his/herself. "Okay, okay, I was just joking," George said. "How 'bout some unisex names then, just shout if you like one, ummm Parker?" No response. "Spencer?" Again, no response. "Terri?" Nothing. "Well that's as many names that I can think of right now." George said, giving up.
'Fred' A voice said. George looked in bewilderment at the bug. 'No, no! That was just me you idiot, name the bug after me,' said the Fred in George's mind. He didn't know what was crazier, having a bug talk to him, or his dead brother in the back of his mind? He uttered, in a voice he couldn't even recognize as his own, "Would you like to be called Fred?" The bug thought for a moment before moving both antennas enthusiastically. George truly smiled, and shut of the light. "Okay my little friend, you've got it." After he settled in bed and pulled the covers on, he whispered a low "G'night, Fred" to a bug on his window sill. The bug settled down comfortably, and was asleep in minutes. George closed his eyes and said in his head 'Goodbye Fred.' No one answered him back. And a lone tear leaked down the corner of his eye and traced it's way down his jaw line.
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-tribewar