Dennis Creevey sat under a large ash tree beside the Black Lake. In the distance, he could see the water rippling as the Giant Squid splashed in its murky depths. Students wandered aimlessly around its edges and birds chirping echoed through the air. By all means it was a pleasant spring day but for Dennis it was tinged with sadness.
It was his brother's birthday and had he lived, he'd have turned twenty one today. He'd been dead for five years, but his absence never seemed to get any easier.
Dennis' parents, professors, and Healers from St. Mungo's had all talked to him about letting go of his grief. They told him the same tired lines about time healing the damage that was done to his heart, but he knew better. Colin's passing had dimmed the world significantly. In an instant everything had shifted to a dull shade of grey and the color hadn't returned. His death had sucked the very air from his lungs and he'd been suffocating ever since.
For the first year, people cared. They'd tried to interact with Dennis, offered him comfort the best they could, but his surly unwillingness to forget his brother's death had slowly broke each of them. As time passed, frustrations grew when he didn't simply just snap out of it. One by one, every one gave up, preferring to leave him to his mourning.
Standing, Dennis brushed the dirt off of his robes and walked a ways down the path to the solitary memorial for those who had died during the First and Second Wizarding Wars. The list was long and Colin's name was just one in hundreds, but he knew exactly where he'd find it. He'd read the list so many times over that he practically had it memorized.
Colin Creevey, aged sixteen. Sandwiched between Professor Charity Burbage and Dirk Cresswell.
"I miss you, Colin," he whispered as he ran his fingers across the spot where his brother's name was carved. The world faded into silence around him, so much so that he didn't hear the footsteps crunching down the path behind him.
"McGonagall said I might find you here. Dennis, isn't it?"
Startling from his memories, Dennis turned to find a stocky red headed man directly behind him.
"That's right. What do you want?" he said, annoyed that someone would dare to interrupt him at this particular moment.
The red head smiled. "Came to talk to you, I suppose. Can we sit down somewhere?"
As he looked the redhead over, Dennis noticed that he was missing an ear. In its place was a large, badly scarred hole. He wore an absurd suit made of dragon skin and although he was smiling, there was definite sadness in it.
"You're George Weasley, aren't you?"
"I am. Best looking Weasley of the whole lot," he smirked.
Dennis noticed George's eyes drift towards the stone memorial and was surprised when they began to moisten.
"Did you lose someone in the war as well?"
George nodded. "My twin, Fred. See. His names here at the bottom of the memorial, right after Emmeline Vance. My other brother Charlie carved the name onto it himself. Hardest bloody thing my families ever been through."
"I know what you mean," Dennis said. "That's why Colin's name looks so rough. I carved his name myself. I was twelve at the time and my hands were shaking terribly from all the tears. Bloody miracle that it's even legible."
"What was your brother like?" George asked, wandering down the trail with measured steps.
Dennis turned and followed suit. "Most people who knew him would tell you that Colin was a brilliant photographer. He took pictures of everything. Before I even made it to Hogwarts, I had the entire castle memorized because he'd sent so many photos. But that's not really the thing that I remember about him most. I remember his enthusiasm for life. With him the world was so much more vibrant. He was someone who was fiercely loyal to those he cared about. I always felt safer just knowing that he was there to look after me." Dennis paused. "But surely you must've known him. You would've been at school together for a couple of years and he was a part of the D.A."
George smiled. "Oh, I did know him, perhaps not as well as I should've, but I could tell immediately that he was a decent person. And I remember that camera. Nearly drove poor Harry crazy taking pictures of him all the time."
"Why'd you ask then?"
"I just wanted to hear your memories of him. The way that I remember my brother Fred is so completely different than anyone else. I figured it would be the same for you."
Dennis searched George's eyes. "How did you move on after your brother died? I mean you run a successful business now and last I'd heard, you got married, at least if what the tabloids say are true."
The wind picked up, blowing gently, caressing the back of Dennis' neck. A swirl of leaves wound around his feet, catching the edges of his robes.
"I did get married to a lovely woman named Angelina. She was in my year at Hogwarts."
"I think I remember her. Quidditch player wasn't she?"
"That's the one."
Dennis stared down at his feet. "So how did you do it?"
"Do what?" George asked.
"You know. Get over it?"
George stopped walking and gave Dennis an appraising look before responding. "I didn't. I don't think you ever do really. You just sort of adjust to the absence and try your best to hang on to the good memories that you have. The truth is that life continues on with or without you, so at some point you have to pick up and try to return a bit of normalcy to your life."
"I just don't know how," Dennis croaked, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "Maybe it's different for you because you have quite a few siblings, but Colin was the only brother I had. I just feel so lost without him. Even all of these years later."
"I wish that were true." George said with a sad smile. "Fred was my twin and we were far closer than I am with any of my other siblings. That's not to say that I don't love them all. It's just that his death hurt me in ways that I had never prepared to deal with. The possibility of losing a family member during the war had occurred to me, but I never for a second thought it would be him. I took for granted that he'd always be here, I suppose. Or maybe I thought that if he died, I'd die with him because the two of us were inseparable. I was woefully unprepared for the grief that followed," George murmured in a soft voice.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have implied that it was any less painful."
"It's alright, Dennis," George said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "The thing is, I threw away quite a few years of my life after his death. I took to the firewhiskey with an unmatched ferocity. I drank until I couldn't think straight pretty much every night. I allowed my business to tank and I damn near lost the best woman I've ever met with my antics. It took hitting rock bottom to realize that it wasn't what Fred would've wanted. I could imagine him sitting up in heaven, completely furious that I was being an utter prat with my life when he'd been robbed of his so early."
Unsure of what to say, Dennis remained silent, but for the first time since his brother's passing, he felt like someone understood him.
"I imagine that Colin would feel the same way about you. You said it yourself. He had an incredible enthusiasm for life and I have to believe that he wouldn't have wanted you to waste the rest of your life mourning him. I know that sometimes the grief gets so overwhelming that you feel like you'll be crushed beneath it, but those moments pass, and if you allow it to happen, good memories and happiness will replace it little by little. There will still be moments where the loss is tangible, where your heart aches, and where life reminds you of the void your brother left, but there are other people who will help you through. Friends, family, someday maybe a wife and kids. You have a lot left to live for and it's foolish to throw it away for someone who is already gone. All you succeed in doing is alienating those who are left living while you chase ghosts."
The two men stood without talking for several minutes. The rustling of trees in the wind and the occasional voice of a student shouting far off in the distance was all that could be heard. For the first time in ages, Dennis felt a sense of peace and calm.
"You know, I can't count how many people have told me similar things," Dennis began, "but it really helps to hear it from someone who's actually going through what I'm going through. From everyone else, it just sort of seems hollow and insincere."
"I understand completely," George said as he put an arm around Dennis' shoulders. "Look, this might be a bit cheeky of me, but since we've both lost our brothers, I want to make you an offer. I know I'll never replace Colin, but I'd like to be there for you if you'll let me. Maybe we can write each other letters and you can come visit me in Diagon Alley once in awhile? What do you say?"
"As long as you don't expect me to just forget Colin…" Dennis trailed off.
George shook his head. "Of course, I don't. Look, blood is thicker than water. I know that. I just want you to realize that you aren't alone in the world. Is that okay with you?"
Dennis nodded.
"Great. So do you like pranks at all? In my heyday, I caused quite a bit of chaos here."
"I know. A little bit of your portable swamp is still upstairs. Every once in awhile I'll catch Professor McGonagall looking at it fondly," he said, lighting up. "I always enjoyed pranks, although I have a hard time coming up with them on my own."
"Perfect. I can definitely help you there," said George, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "Are there any students in particular giving you a hard time?"
"Well, there is this one boy…"
The conversation carried George and Dennis all the way around the lake and back to the Great Hall just in time for supper. Acquiescing to popular demand, George stayed for the meal and then afterwards demonstrated everything that Professor Flitwick had taught him with a massive fireworks display.
On the far side of the room stood another stocky redheaded man and a short blonde haired boy. They were invisible to the crowd of students and professors filling the room, but they watched the scene intently.
"See Colin. I told you it would be alright," the redhead said as he patted the blonde haired boy on the back.
"But, Fred, how do you know that it won't just go back to how it was?" Colin asked.
"Because George will look after Dennis and I have a feeling Dennis will look after him as well."
Hi there,
This story was originally written for The Proverb Challenge on HPFF. The proverb that I was assigned was "Blood is thicker than water." The quote is used directly in the story at one point and inspired the general theme of this.
This story was also inspired by and dedicated to 1917Farmgirl, who is the master of writing the Weasley twins. I hope this short little story did your favorite characters justice. Thank you for being a lovely friend.
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave some feedback below and thank you for reading!
~Kaitlin/TreacleTart