George Weasley wandered around the castle, occasionally kicking a piece of rubble off to the side, or stopping to look at something that he once knew, now destroyed. Voldemort was dead, the light had won. But still, he felt as though a dark cloud was looming overhead. And he knew exactly why.
Fred was dead. His identical twin brother, his other half, was gone. There was no spell to reawaken the dead, everybody knew that. If there was, he would have used it the very moment he saw his brother's lifeless body, the shadow of his last laugh still playing along his face. He was skilled in creating spells and such, both he and Fred were, but he knew that that was a spell that would never be created. And even if it he could create it, even if it was within his power to do so, he could never do anything like that without Fred's help. He sat down on the partially destroyed staircase, the staircase that had housed so many of his and Fred's pranks, as all the staircases had. He sat down, pulled his knees to his chest, and cried. In this one night, he had shed more tears than he ever had in his whole 20 years of life, at least that he remembered. Because now, for the first time in his life, he felt truly alone. Sure, his mother, father, sister, and the rest of his brothers were still alive, but he had lost his other half. His brother and his closest friend. He had his whole family, yet he had never felt so alone in his life. He wished with all his heart that somehow, someway, Fred could still be next to him. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and wished. He opened his eyes, and there was still no one. He was still completely alone. He buried his face in his arms and continued to cry. He didn't even notice the figure peeking out from behind a pillar across the hall. A young man with gray hair, gray eyes, gray clothing, and gray skin. A ghost. The young ghost floated across the hall and stopped next to George. He sat on the stairs and put his arm around George, as best as a ghost could, and two silvery tears slid down his gray cheeks. George didn't hear or feel anything, except for a slight chill across his shoulders and on his side. But he dismissed it as just his imagination. The ghost realized that George didn't notice him. So he decided to speak up.
"It'll be alright, Georgie." a familiar voice whispered.
"Fred?" George looked up so suddenly that it startled the ghost, causing him to fly backwards and inside a wall. "Freddie?" he said again, this time his voice cracking. He looked around him. "I'm going mental." he said to himself.
"You're not going mental." the voice said again. "You just startled me, that's all." The ghost floated back through the wall, revealing his presence. For a moment, George couldn't breathe. His red hair, blue eyes, and freckles had faded to dull, silvery-gray, but there was no mistaking it.
"F-Freddie?" George said through his tears.
"You see, Georgie?" Fred said softly. "I'm still here. A little different, but still here." George tried to hug his brother, but fell right through him. "Unfortunately," Fred said, rather grimly. "That's one of the differences."
"That doesn't matter. As long as you can still talk and exist, that's more than enough for me." George started to cry again, but this time it was tears of happiness instead of tears of sorrow.
Fred started to cry too. "As soon as I got hit, I thought it was over. I had no idea what you had to do to be a ghost. I died laughing but my last thought was that I'd never get to say goodbye. And then I got to choose. Either be eternally at peace, or be eternally a disembodied spirit. I might regret this decision later in afterlife, but I'd rather be around people forever than be 'at peace'. It sounds boring, don't you think?"
"And everyone knows that you of all people can't stand boredom." George laughed.
Fred shrugged. "Maybe Peeves can teach me a few things."
"Please tell me you're not going to be like Peeves."
"Oh, heavens no! But I'm not really used to pranking as a ghost, so I'll have to learn from someone."
"You're going to keep on pranking?"
"Of course. What's the point of existing eternally if you don't make use of it? I can fly through walls, George, I'll be able to pull off some of the best pranks ever." George's smile faded. "What's wrong, Georgie?"
"I guess…I'm just sad that we won't be doing everything together anymore. You have to stay here, right?" Fred nodded. "So I guess Weasley & Weasley has come to end, then."
"Hey, it's alright." Fred said, showcasing his most cheerful grin. "I'll pull my pranks, you pull yours. I'll write to you. I'll tell you all about my pranks, and you'll tell me all about yours."
"How will you write? You can't hold a quill."
"I have my ways." Fred smirked at his brother.
"I'm sure you do. I'll send Errol with a letter every week."
"I'll haunt the Owlery. And the common room of course. Maybe the Quidditch Pitch, too…everywhere we had fun, believe me, I'll haunt it."
"I don't doubt you will."
"And someday, your kids will come to Hogwarts, and they'll finally get to meet their Uncle Freddie."