George Weasley sat in the silent shop, staring at the ground as darkness settled over Hogsmeade.
He and Fred had bought the premises. George hadn't been able to bring himself to set foot in it. But two days ago they had held a funeral for his twin. And that struck a note in George, finalizing the fact that his brother, Fred was...
George shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. He'd cried enough already. With his mum, with his dad, his brothers, and sister...Fred wouldn't have wanted something as small as his own death to halt the flow of hilarity that used to stream from them both...
George smiled in spite of himself. He remember all the corny jokes they'd told...it had been Fred's idea for the fainting fancies...George had only come up with the puking pastilles...
Fred.
In two days, George had visited his brother's grave six times. He'd been staying with his family, partly because they needed him, and partly because he couldn't bear to stay in that little flat in Diagon Alley... the flat that he had shared with Fred.
He closed his eyes, his mind completely devoid of thought.
Boom.
His laugh was stifled quickly. George caught sight of Percy, still staring at the spot, still slightly smiling, and then he realized that Fred hadn't only fallen.
"NO!" he screamed, diving for his brother. "NO, FRED, NO!" Something in the back of his mind registered that everyone else was screaming too, and that everyone was crowding around him, as if...as if...
"EVERYONE BACK UP!" he had yelled, his fingers brushing his twin's cold hand. "GIVE HIM ROOM TO BREATHE!"
Ron, dumb with grief, took a few steps backwards. Charlie sank to his knees and Bill held Fleur. George's father laid a hand on his shoulder.
Wait – George's father hadn't laid a hand on his shoulder... that never happened...
Jerked out of his reverie, he whipped around.
There was no one there.
Trying to slow down his heart rate, he relaxed and turned back around.
"'Lo bro."
George froze.
Standing in front of him, hands in his pockets, smiling happily, stood Fred Weasley.
"But...you're dead," said George bluntly.
Fred laughed and nodded. "That I am, my dear twin." George noticed that Fred looked solid, but not... real.
"Are you back?" asked George.
Fred's smile faltered. His eyes found his shoes.
"I can't say I am. But I saw how stupid you were, so I decided to pop down for a spell." George gaped at him. "I mean, I kept waiting for you to open this shop. It's nice, by the way," he added, glancing around.
George, stunned, continued to stare.
"Did you know you're older?" asked Fred, sounding mildly interested. "By fourteen minutes."
"How – how d'you know?"
"The Big Man told me," said Fred simply.
George paused, then said, "So there...there is a – a place, that you go to...when you...after you've..." He felt his ears turn red.
"Died?" asked Fred. "Yes. It's nice too. Boring, a bit, but Lupin and Tonks are here. And loads more. They're alright."
George continued to stare at him.
Fred smiled softly, almost sadly, and knelt down next to his brother. "I know you miss me," he said quietly. "I saw you at my funeral. You got all worked up over little old me – I'm quite proud. Most of the old codgers up there don't even get a single tear at their funerals."
George smiled weakly.
"It'll be alright," continued Fred. "It's still Weasley and Weasley...you're still my twin... I don't care if you cry, I'm not really going to mind, am I, seeing as I'm dead," he added, watching George look away, eyes full of tears.
"Are you – to anyone else – Mum and Dad are – Ginny – Bill, Charlie – Ron – Percy, they're...are you..." George choked up, not able to continue.
"No," said Fred. "Only you."
It was silent for a moment, allowing George to dry his face.
"Tell Mum I want one more sweater," he whispered. "And then you all have to get a move on with your life."
George nodded, unable to speak.
"I'll always be here," he said, still whispering. "I'll always be right here, laughing at you, laughing with you... don't ever think I've left you."
George nodded again.
"Don't be sad," muttered Fred. "I need you to tell everyone that I love them. I need you to do that for me. Can I trust you?"
George began to nod, but stopped halfway.
"We said we'd come out all right, but you didn't, you're dead, I saw it, I watched it happen, and we didn't both come out fine, and so you can't trust me, because I was going to make sure this wouldn't happen, we all were, it didn't have to be like this!" said George, not caring if his brother saw the tears. "Please don't go away again, Fred! I can't go on, not alone, when I lost you I lost some part of me, like I'd been ripped apart, what am I supposed to do without -"
"Come on, George. Don't be sad," he repeated, placing a firm hand on his brother's shoulder. "I don't have much time left," he continued. "Please, George. I need your help."
George, although his throat seemed blocked, nodded.
"Tell Percy it wasn't his fault," he whispered. "He said the last words I ever heard, George, and it was a joke. It was the ultimate way to go."
"But you didn't have to -"
"Shh… yes, I had to. It was my time. Everyone has a time."
It was silent.
George saw his brother wrap his arms around him and hug him, although his couldn't feel it.
"I love you, bro."
For half a moment, Fred's grip firmed, and for half a moment, he was real, solid, alive...
It passed. As Fred let go of his twin and straightened up, George saw the wings properly for the first time.
His brother was an angel.
Fred's form began to ripple and fade, as if he were diving deeper and deeper into a pool of water.
"By the way," he said, just before he faded away. "If you ever have a kid, you have to name him after me, or I will personally make sure Moaning Myrtle haunts you until your dying day." His voice seemed to be getting farther and farther away. "I'll see you again, I reckon. When your time comes. Hold off 'til then, will you?"
George blinked, and his brother disappeared.
George blinked again, and awoke with a start, as light began to settle over Hogsmeade.
--
"So...Mum made you the sweater...I'll just leave it here, then," said George, laying down the sweater on the grave.
It was silent.
"You know..." he began, quieter now. "I didn't have to tell anyone that. They already knew."
There was more silence.
"Like I said before, we all miss you," continued George, just to break the silence. "But we're moving forward. We'll never move on… but we're moving forward."
He stuck his hands in his pockets to protect them from the biting wind, and rocked back and forth on the ball of his feet.
"Percy's doing really well, yeah," he said, biting his lip and looking at the ground. "Yeah. He's going to become Minister of Magic, I know it. Mum and Fleur are with each other a lot now. Bill and Dad've been with us." He paused, digging into the dirt with the tip of his foot. "Charlie's taking it pretty hard. He says he should have spent more time with you. Rubbish, I say. All the time in the world wouldn't have been enough." George took a deep breath, and continued in a slightly higher voice. "Ron's alright… he's got Hermione… and Harry… Ginny's got all of us, she's making it through pretty well. Did you see the flowers she picked out for you? Yeah…"
He stopped and rubbed his eye, sniffling from the cold.
"Yeah… the shop's going alright, but I can't manage it on my own. I'm going ask Ron if he'll be my business partner. Is that cool?" he asked tentatively. "I mean, he can't replace you… but he's a good man…I guess."
He shook his head and looked up at the sky.
"We won," he said simply. "I know you probably already know, but… we won." He paused. "You didn't get to meet Teddy. Lupin and Tonks's kid. You would have liked him. His hair changes color every hour, I swear."
George took a deep breath and glanced behind him.
"It's cold out here. I shouldn't stay much longer, Mum'll start to worry." He wrapped his arms around himself to warm him up. "I'll be back tomorrow. See you, bro."
He turned to leave, but couldn't. As ridiculous as it seemed, he had to ask.
Without turning around again, he asked, "Was it a dream? Was the whole thing just a dream? It couldn't have been… it was so real." He paused, then whispered, "Please, Fred."
It was silent.
George sighed and shook his head, heading back towards the Burrow. Something in the back of his mind registered the wind had stopped. As he opened the gate, a gust of wind suddenly swept through the garden, blowing over a rubber boot that had been sitting at the door. He dug his hands deeper into his pockets, until he noticed that something had fallen out of the boot.
Frowning, he bent over to pick it up. Just as he bent his back, an even stronger gust of wind blew him over, causing him to fall headfirst into the door frame. "Ouch…" he murmured, rubbing his nose. Straightening up, he inspected what had fallen out of the boot.
His twin's face stared back up at him, doubling up with laughter.
George smiled softly and pocketed the photograph, shaking his head at his brother's joke.