The Mirror of Erised shows our greatest desires; what we want most in the world. Many men waste their lives in front of it, but for some, one last glimpse is all they need to set their heart straight.
George Weasley had been too broken to celebrate the defeat of Voldemort, crushed at the loss of his other half. He disappeared to wander aimlessly throughout the corridors, recalling that in every memory he had, Fred was always by his side. Fred had always been a part of whatever he had been doing, whether it was taking cookies from their mother when they were little or escaping Hogwarts and starting a joke shop together. His hands balled into fists even though the ghost of a sad smile found its way to his lips. He could hear the cheering, even from wherever he was, and it made him feel even worse. Forcing himself into a run, he let the tears fall as he ran to God knows where. He hated himself for letting this happen, he hated the world, he hated the person who cast that spell that took all that was precious to him. He had run out of things to say and reasons to laugh when Fred had died. His name ran through his mind as his breath caught in his throat. Leaning against one of the walls, he tried to catch his breath. He stared at the door in front of him; the door so familiar he could almost feel the wood where he stood. Forcing his feet to work, he reached a tentative hand towards the handle. "Take me to Fred." He whispered, so softly he barely heard his own words. Turning the handle, he walked inside the dimly lit room.
All that was inside the room was a mirror and a few candles that burnt brightly amidst all that was wrong with the world around them. He walked towards the mirror, dropping to his knees inches away from the glass. His hand found its way to the cold glass just as his eyes did. He stared at the familiar sight. The red hair, the freckles around his face, the brown eyes that, to his surprise, still held the mirth he thought he had lost. The bandages that covered where his ear had been where still there, a constant reminder of what had happened. As he looked closer, however, all of this faded away. He stared at yet another familiar sight, one that brought tears he still hadn't shed to his eyes.
Instead of his own reflection, his brother's took its place. The familiar smile that was always there seemed to outshine the sun. Their eyes locked, and two smiles that resembled the Cheshire cat appeared. "Don't cry, Georgie, please." Fred pleaded, reaching a hand and placing it against the glass, right where George's was. Warmth spread to his fingers, despite the glass being cold moments ago. "I'm not gone, I'll always be right here." The familiar voice sent pains through George's chest; sharp pains that, if they continued, would shatter his heart again. He didn't trust the words he wanted to speak, the arguments he desperately wanted to make. Still their eyes remained on one another, the smile remaining on Fred's face as George's disappeared. Tears fell onto the stone beneath him and his shoulders shook violently. Fred was gone, yet he was here. Why was God playing such dirty tricks on him? What had he done wrong?
"F-Fred," George begged, his voice strained. "What did I do wrong?"
"What do you mean, George?" Fred questioned, watching and searching for any clues in the puzzle.
"You're dead, but you're here. Is God trying to pull a fast one on me?" George couldn't take the fact that everything he knew was being ripped apart like parchment. His fingers shook against the glass, his head bowed as his shaking became more violent. "What did I do?" He asked again to no one. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing," Fred pleaded, "you're the best, Georgie. It's really boring without you, ya know."
"Why you?" George yelled, banging his fist against his knee. "Why you instead of me?" Fred gave his twin a sad smile as George felt the warmth from the glass disappear. "Because, Georgie, there are people who still need you."
"What about me? I need you, Fred!" George couldn't explain the truth this statement held; the way saying aloud shook him to the very core.
"I'm always here, George, right beside you. I am you." George felt a hand on his shoulder, staring at what he hoped wasn't an illusion. "Just keep laughing, I'll even show you how." Fred spoke softly, sinking to his knees. His arms wrapped around George as he laughed, quietly at first but then increasing in volume. "Remember how to laugh, George?" Fred whispered in his ear, pressing tightly into George. George nodded, wrapping his arms around Fred and hoping he would never have to let go. "Good," Fred laughed, "Because I don't think I'll be able to live without it." George watched as the fabric between his fingers disappear, slowly disappearing like the rest of his brother.
"Keep going George," Fred laughed. "Because I sure as hell won't leave without you." George closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he listened to his brother's laughter echo throughout the walls. As the sound disappeared, he slowly rose to his feet. He realized that something was still there.
The warmth Fred had given him was still there. And he wasn't about to let that go.