Author's Note: Written for…
Team Competition. Team: Post-Potter Character: Fred Weasley Prompt: "People are pretty strange" – Norman Reedus
Ghost to Ghost
Life, Fred decided, was more exciting when you weren't the one living it.
The afterlife wasn't nearly so thrilling. He spent most of his days trying (and failing) to make contact with the living while fellow ghosts stared on with pity. It was also difficult being stuck on the Hogwarts grounds, because that only gave him about twenty-five people to spy on at any given time.
Nicholas assured him that he just had to be patient on both subjects, and soon he'd be as mobile and talkative as the rest of them. In the meantime, Fred amused himself by watching the slow-going restoration of Hogwarts.
It wasn't really the fixing up itself that he enjoyed, because that was boring. But it was fascinating watching his old friends and teachers when they couldn't see him.
People are pretty strange, he'd recently concluded upon walking in on Madam Pince fondly petting an old picture of Filch. This was confirmed by watching McGonagall hang Quidditch posters in her new bedroom, and the fact that he hadn't caught any member of his family smiling for over a month.
"Why can't people just get on with their lives?" he asked Nicholas one evening after all the living had gone to bed. The castle got pretty boring when there wasn't anyone to spy on.
"You should enjoy it while it lasts. Your family loved you, and they miss you. When you get to be as old as I am, there's no one left to miss you."
"I don't want them to miss me," he said, angrily attempting to kick at a piece of rubble. "I just want things to go back to how they used to be … minus me."
Nicholas draped an arm across the younger man's shoulder and Fred shivered at the touch. It was no longer cold but there was something eerie about being able to feel him now.
"You're just going to have to deal with that."
That was the only advice he'd gotten on how best to adjust to being dead.
If he was being honest, adjusting really wasn't that hard. He missed Hogwarts quite a bit since leaving and it was nice to be able to roam free without the pesky confinements of classes and detentions.
He stuck close to Gryffindor tower, partly because it felt safe to be there and partly because that was where quite a lot of the cleanup volunteers slept.
He watched his brothers and sister and Harry and everyone else sleep wistfully, until he realized he was being creepy and Ginny would probably hex him into the next century if she knew.
The hardest thing was watching George.
It wasn't as if he'd never seen his twin upset before. There was a small amount of sadness during breakups and losses on the pitch; anger at professors and Filch and Percy; worry for their father when he was in the hospital. And through all of that, Fred had stood by him and felt everything the same.
He could barely watch George, or whatever he'd become. This shell. A ghost. He thought that was rather ironic, almost funny. One collapsing wall and they'd both become ghosts.
Despite the difficulty of the situation, Fred found himself watching George more than anyone else. He watched as he swept the corridors, ate half a sandwich to last him the day, and lied awake at night staring at the ceiling.
"It's alright, Georgie," Fred said quietly, sitting on the edge of his brother's bed. "It'll get better. You're gonna be great without me holding you back."
George rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. His body shook slightly, like he might be crying. That was new. He hadn't cried once since volunteering at the castle. Fred smiled sadly.
"See, mate? Already moving on." He tried patting his brother's back out of habit, but his hand went right through. George stilled; Fred grinned. "Come on, tell me you felt that…"
George rolled over, his red-rimmed eyes scanning the seemingly empty dorm slowly while Fred waved invisible hands in front of his face.
The living twin wound up lying back down and closing his eyes and Fred sighed to himself.
"One of these days, mate."