Hi! first fanfic! I have basket ball today, But Muse just wouldn't give up.
Muse: I came close to it.
Me: Shut up. My story.
Muse: You know, technically its mine.
Me: ... I don't care. go away.
Muse: She doesn't own anything!
Me: *sobs* he's right! *keeps sobbing* Fred!
Fred: *hits Muse over the head*
Muse: child abuse! I'm calling child abuse!
Fred: he's right. She doesn't own anything.
Me: Fred! No!
Fred:...Yes.
Me: No!
Fred: *knocks crazy author unconcious
Muse: What have you done! Now she can't write the story!
Fred: But now I won't die and have to listen to-
Muse: shut up!
Today was May 2.
Those four words wouldn't mean much to any random muggle, or even to any random witch or wizard, but to George Weasley those words meant everything.
That day was the day. five years prier it was the day that every thing ended. Today was the anniversary of Fred Weasley's death.
George's customers weren't too happy when he had shut down the joke shop. But George knew he couldn't do it any more. The whole thing was a constant reminder of his brother. The Ton Tongue toffee's Fred made. Yes they liked to say they had made it together, but it had been Fred's idea. A lot of the idea were Fred's. Hitting Quirrel, or as they later, to their great enjoyment, learned, voldemort, with the snow balls. Drinking ageing potion to enter the Triwizard Tournament. The Skiving Snack boxes. The portable swamp. Weasley's Wildfire Wizbangs.
They were all Fred's ideas. And the entire joke shop was filled with them.
They had started out so happy, making it their business to prank as many Slytherins as possible. Stealing dangerous articles with obvious dark purposes, from an oblivious Filches office. Laughing in Snape's face, and Running from McGonagall's, when one of they're better pranks took effect.
Happy Day's, when they would tell jokes or trick Angelina into kissing Fred. Then George would tease him about her later, knowing how much Fred really cared for her.
Angelina would pretend to be angry of course, but both saw the look in her eyes. She loved Fred too. And George was glad of that.
He was happy for his brother.
but now Fred lay, unresponsive, in his grave.
Never again would they prank Malfoy, then stay up in the gryffindor common room way past curfew, to laugh about.
Or ever curse a bucket of water to fly above Miss. Norris's head till the moment she last expected it to flip.
because Fred died
Never to pour bacon grease over Snapes head claiming his hair wasn't greasy enough.
which they couldn't do any way cause Snape was dead.
Fred was dead
He would never pull out that ring they had hunted for together, never pull it out and present it to Angelina.
dead
Never to say his vows under the Womping willow, with Angelina by his side.
Never to get his dream house with all the secret passageways and hidden rooms.
Never to have a mini George 2, jumping around and pranking all the world he knew
dead
"Hey Fred" George spoke to the grave, "Sorry I'm late. I usually come at 12"
The grave stone stood up and walked away, knowing George would want to be alone. "Angelina's still angry you know. About how you died. I think she tries to hide it. For me. I think she wants to be strong for me." George whispered
She's to only one who comes by any more. Every one else gave up on me." George closed his eyes, "Even Mum and Dad"
I don't think Harry's moved on either. Not just from you, but from the war. Ginny's working on him." He smiled "He proposed to her, ya know. Just last spring. It took him long enough."
"Ron's wedding was amazing. Hermione was beautiful. And they loved the exploding cake." He touched the tree that stood over his brothers grave. "I think it was our best prank yet."
"Angelina's practically moved into my apartment. You would probably yell at me. Tell me to get a move on, to whip out that ring we bought together." he traces the heart someone had scratched into the trees base, "But I can't. I try, but I can't. Every time I plan it. I'll hold the ring and walk up to her, then something holds me back, and we end up talking about the weather."
"I feel like I'm waiting for something to happen. Something that will make me move on from you." he smiled sadly, "But it won't come" Some thing wet trailed down his cheek and landed in the dirt next to his brothers grave. A tear. Not crying, but they always came. The burning and the tears. Never crying. He had gotten over that. Not the burning and the tears, but the crying. The crying had stopped and the burning had come.
It hid itself when people came. The burning did. It would hide itself and leave when they came. But it was still there. Always there, hiding itself. Or rather he, George hid it. The burning would hide away and so would the tears. But Angelina saw it. She saw the burning and the tears, because she burned too. And when it came, she would burn with him, so he wouldn't be alone in the burning fire.
"I'm afraid Fred." George admitted, "I am afraid." He was afraid that he would never get over his brother. Afraid he would never ask Angelina what he had wanted to ask her for years...Afraid all they would ever talk about was the weather. Afraid that it would all slip past him. That eventually she would leave, convinced that what she saw in him was an illusion. He feared it. "I asked Ron if that was what he felt before proposing. That something was stopping him. He never had."
"I love you brother." George smiled once more then stood up and walked away
Still burning. Still broken
Fred: like I was saying, I won't have to listen to my brother go on about how sad he is and his sad little dating problem, trying to propose to Angelina.
Muse: So that's what he was doing
Fred: Well you thought up the story... wouldn't you know
Muse: *meekly* maybe...besides you might still be alive...
Fred: WHAT!
Muse: Just kidding
Me: What...? Where am I...? Who are you...? Who am... Who am I...?
Fred: ...oops.