A/N: Just because Fred is gone doesn't mean we can't write humorous fanfictions about him right? Right. So please read and review and let me know what you think!
Boxes, boxes, and more boxes.
That's what 90 percent of George's room contained. Boxes. Old boxes, new boxes, (red boxes, blue boxes) boxes that would explode if kicked, all types of boxes.
It was exactly how he'd left it. There was only one thing missing.
George sat on his bed for a long time and had come up with one conclusion. One answer to all these problems: Life was not fair. Fred was dead. His twin was dead. Quite literally, before the egg split and twin fetuses were formed and blah blah, his other half.
He moved over to the window, looking out at the people arriving. Andromeda Tonks was walking across the lawn holding a baby with bright green hair. Teddy Lupin. Teddy would go his entire life without knowing his parents. He'd have less memories, if any, than Harry had.
George rubbed his eyes. Everyone coming to the Burrow today would be mourning someone. Fred, Lupin, Tonks... Mr. Weasley thought it would be a good idea to have all three funerals at the same time. Of course George thought it was a ridiculous idea. He didn't think his mother could handle it. He kicked a box, luckily it didn't explode, it just kicked him back.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
All these people were taken away. All because of some wizard with severe mental and emotional problems. At least the source of the problem was dead with them, burned in some pit with his dead followers dressed in Muggle clothes for afterlife humiliation.
If only there was a way to turn back time far enough to prevent Voldemort from ever being born. Then everyone who mattered would be here. Fred would be here. But it was impossible. Time Turners were now locked in a vault at Gringotts, so far beneath the Earth that only an idiot, or a trio of friends, could probably get at. George straightened his tie and decided he'd better go and get it over with.
The moment he stepped out of his room he heard arguing. Ron and Hermione. Again.
"Ron stop! It isn't possible!
"But why not? Harry dropped it near Aragog's home. We could just..."
"Ron." It was Harry's voice. "I don't even remember where exactly I dropped it. And you heard the story of the Three Brothers. The second one asked to be able to recall others from death, brought back his girlfriend and then went mad and killed himself."
"But you got to see your parents and Sirius and Lupin and you didn't go mad."
"Well Harry thought he was going to die, didn't he Ron? He brought them back to accompany him until he too was dead."
"But," protested Ron.
"Ron we miss him too. We miss all of them, but we can't risk it. And George is already terribly upset. Didn't he say he was hearing voices?"
"Yeah but George was his twin, part of him..."
"Ron just drop it, we're going to be late for the funeral," said Harry.
George hurried down the stairs. Not because he was afraid of being caught eavesdropping, but being caught hearing a conversation that concerned him. He didn't need anyone to feel sorry for him. But it was true. All of it. George had been hearing voices. No doubt his horribly sick heart, wishing that Fred could somehow come back to him. Whispering instructions of how it could be done. But it was impossible. Or was it?
Harry, Ron and Hermione came down the stairs a few seconds after he did. The three of them walked with their heads down, careful to avoid eye contact, as if looking at him wrong would cause him to burst into tears like Mrs. Weasley had. No, George was a man, he could handle this.
- - - - -
George was carried back into the house five minutes after the funeral had begun. His face was completely red, and he was crying hysterically. If snot was on the market, George would be rich in a matter of seconds.
"Here George," said Hagrid handing him an enormous hanky.
George blew his nose, and now owed Hagrid a new one.
"It's okay George. I know yeh feel awful, yer brother dying and all. Yeh have every right to b-b-bawl yer eyes out."
And Hagrid had sunk down on the floor next to George, both crying and sharing the hanky for the next hour.
When people had started to file into the Burrow for the reception, George was even more distraught. He had missed his own twin's funeral. He could see Fred now, up on some cloud with a shiny halo over his head, screaming at him at him for missing it. He could practically hear him yelling at him to go back and mourn in public. Throw himself over Fred's body and scream for him to come back. That's what Fred would have wanted.
After the food was eaten, it seemed as though every person in the room had a glass of firewhiskey. Even Mrs. Weasley was sitting on the couch, a glass close to the size of Hagrid's clutched in her hands. George was going crazy. Every ten minutes or so he'd start sobbing and then Hagrid would consol him with a glass.
"To Fred," sobbed Hagrid.
"To Fred," sobbed George.
Hagrid had downed two bottles alone and began singing some sad song. George sat, staring into his glass. Fred, Fred, Fred. Come back. We live in the wizarding world. Why hasn't some idiot figured out how to bring people back?
To Fred," sobbed Hagrid again. "And Tonks and Lupin and..."
To Fred. To his memory. The whole toasting thing was ridiculous. And did anyone ever think that Fred might want to be toasted with a skiving snackbox? Or a canary cream? Or something that represented the person or didn't leave the toasters wondering what the hell they were toasting about hours later.
George leaned back against the couch, pushing aside his drink. Alcohol wasn't going to heal his heart; it would just make him sick in the morning. He turned and looked at the rest of the guests. Mrs. Weasley had collapsed into Mr. Weasley's arms and was soaking his black robes. Harry and Ron had a bottle between the two of them while Hermione protested.
"Ron please, drinking isn't going to help."
Ron was sobbing and Hermione was patting him awkwardly on the back. Harry got up and left and was making his way to Ron's room, holding the railing for...support.
"Mione he has to come back! We have to find the stone!"
"Ron we can't. Please, give me the glass."
Maybe it was his state of being somewhat intoxicated mixed with overwhelming grief that enabled George to make his way to Ron's room and take a huge risk in asking Harry something he knew Harry would protest to if he was sober.
He knocked clumsily on the bedroom door and staggered in when Harry opened it.
"How are you holding up?" asked Harry.
"After a bottle of firewhiskey? I think I'm standing alright."
"I meant..."
"I'm okay. I heard you guys talking earlier."
"Oh," said Harry eyeing George suspiciously.
"Yeah and I was thinking about the stone thing you were talking about."
"George, I'm not going to..."
"No, no. I was thinking it was a great idea for a new Weasley Wizarding Wheezes toy," said George, slurring his words a bit to cause Harry to think he just had too much to drink.
Harry just looked at him, a mix of suspicion and curiosity. Or maybe it was his I've-had-too-much-to-drink face.
"You said the stone could resurrect someone from the dead. So why not have a toy stone that shows an image of a loved one? A bunch of people know the story. Wouldn't it be a great idea?"
"Yeah, yeah it would."
"The question is... how would I get it to work?" asked George. "Like a spell or..."
"You flip in over in your hand three times, focusing on who you want to see and then..." he stopped, concerned for a split second, about what George might do.
"So a stone. A blue stone? Or green?"
"Black. Black with the sign of the three brothers on it. Cracked down the center."
The poor boy was falling right into George's trap. Obviously Harry couldn't hold his firewhiskey.
"A sign. A sign. Like a weird rune that represents three? I should ask Hermione."
"It's like a big triangle with a circle and line in the middle," said Harry. He swayed for a moment and then pulled out the book Dumbledore had given to Hermione and turned to the page with the little sign Dumbledore had scribbled in.
"No," said George. "I think I'll use something else. Maybe a giant 'F' for Fred!"
And with that he left, leaving Harry convinced that he wanted nothing more than to make a toy in Fred's honor.
George smiled to himself as he headed downstairs. Now all he needed to do was ask Hagrid about Aragog's home, which of course was going to be no problem at all.
"Oooph!"
George collided with something, or rather, someone. Both were knocked onto their bums with a loud thud.
"What's the big idea?" Asked George.
"I was just looking for the bathroom," said a small voice.
"Angelina?"
Silence.
"The bathroom's not up here."
"Oh, oh okay."
She got up and turned to go.
"Wait Angelina. C'mon."
George knew what she wanted and he took her by the hand, leading the way to the... his room. He knew it was wrong. It was a bad idea, bringing Angelina here. But she needed to be consoled and this was the only way George knew how. He lit his wand, not bothering to fumble with the light switch and led her to the bed where George and Angelina...
Began crying together.
Yes it was a bad idea, bringing Angelina into the room that the wizard she had loved had slept for seventeen years of his life. It was also a bad idea to cry in front of a girl. Now she was going to think he was extremely sensitive and he couldn't have that reputation. But for tonight in front of someone who felt the same way, he could.
"George. Why did he have to die?"
Stupid question.
"Um..."
Stupid answer.
"Because he had so much going for him. You both did. Do. I mean..."
"I know. But we don't have to worry about that. We're bringing Fred back."
"What?"
In only a few seconds George had decided to include Angelina. She was, after all, one of their best mates and Fred's longtime... crush. Besides, he didn't fancy going alone in the forest, but he would never admit that.
"Listen, I heard Harry, Ron and Hermione talking about a resurrection stone that can bring people back from the dead. The one from the tale of the Three Brothers."
"George, that's a fairytale."
"No it's real! Harry had it! Dumbledore gave it to him! He dropped it in the forest before he faced Voldemort!"
"George..."
"It's real. Harry had it. He told me. He told Ron and Hermione. He wouldn't lie."
He then explained what he had heard the trio talking about and the conversation George had had with Harry moments before they met at the top of the stairs.
"It just seems crazy. What if it's not there?"
"Who's going to pick up a rock? And who's stupid enough to go to the home of some giant spiders after what they did during the battle?"
"Obviously we are," said Angelina wiping her nose.
"So you're in? You'll help me?"
She agreed, of course she did. It was obvious why. To see Fred. She would do anything to see that idiot of a red-head again. That horribly adorable, charming red-head. Anything.
A/N: It's different than my other Weasley fics but I like it so far. And don't worry it has a twist. Hmm. Leave a review and let me know what you think. Each reviewer will receive one Fred Action Figure...not doll. Cuz cookies are dumb, and I'm saving my cookies for Santa ;)