House : Slytherin
Category : Drabble
Prompt : Novelty tie
Word Count : 576
There is no loss more inconsolable than that of a twin. In losing them, you lose a part of your identity. And so, on the second of May 1998, when George Weasley was told of his twin brother's passing, he fell to the ground, certain he would never get up again.
He felt as if he couldn't breathe. He'd never in his life thought about breathing. He just took it for granted, just as he'd taken Fred for granted. Fred and breathing were just part of being alive. And so, if one was taken from him, it only seemed right, in a cruel, twisted way, that the other would be taken too.
All George could do was close his eyes, hoping that he would open them and it would all be just a dream. Or maybe a bad prank.
"You should have seen your face, George. Priceless," Fred would have said.
Except that would've been impossible. Fred and George didn't prank each other; they pranked other people. Together. They had always done everything together. Which was why it was so heart-shattering for George to think that from then on, he would have to do everything alone.
...
When he opened his eyes again, he was alone in the room he should have been sharing with Fred at the Burrow. He had no recollection of how he had gotten there, but he didn't care. Without Fred, nothing mattered. And so he closed his eyes again, drifting into a slumber that was anything but peaceful.
…
It was weeks before George could bring himself to leave his bed.
It was months before there came a day when each breath was no longer a sharp, stabbing pain, but rather a dull ache, a hole in George's soul that would never be filled.
It was a almost a year before he could bring himself to bury Fred. Poetically, perhaps, he chose for the memorial to take place on the first of April. It would have been their twenty-first birthday.
…
The morning of the funeral, George stared at his reflection, his black jacket, his black trousers, his black tie, and felt something wasn't right. It was so normal, so boring. It was the opposite of what Fred would have wanted.
As George looked at his reflection, seeing Fred's eyes in his, he felt it was his duty to do something about that. So, he walked over to the wardrobe he had shared with his twin, took out a box from the top shelf, and set it down on his bed.
He stared at it for a few moments before he dared open it. He was greeted with a neon blue tie, covered in yellow rubber ducklings, complete with quacking noises. It was one of the few items Fred had owned that his twin hadn't. He rarely wore it, but it had been one of his favorites.
Swallowing, George picked up the tie.
"Oi! Hands off! Get your own tie! Ugh - fine! But don't ruin it, and I expect it back by midnight lest it turn into a pumpkin," a voice, seemingly coming from inside the box, cried.
George knew that voice by heart. He hadn't heard it in 334 days, but it was more familiar to him than his own.
It was Fred's.
Later, when the Weasley family got ready to leave, everyone was too distracted by the bright ducklings to notice the tears that were already drying on George's tie.