A/N: Alright-y. This is my first time posting a fanfic on umm…. Yeah. Constructive criticism would be awesome and I'm sorry for any mistakes that I didn't catch.
Summary: George is finding it impossible to move on after the death of his brother until a mysterious young witch gives him a reason to start living again.
Sorry about the lame summary.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Harry Potter series. The only thing I own right now is Fred… Just read the story and you'll get it.
::Nothing Left Of You::
::1::
Suicide. It was a silly, stupid word, or so thought one very depressed George Weasley. It used to be that the young man hated the word and the act that it described. He could never manage to understand just what could drive a person to doing such a thing to themselves and their loved ones. Didn't they realize that even though suffering ceased for them it only just began for their family and friends? George knew how much it would hurt his family if he died and he didn't even have to off himself to see it. Every time he left his room and ran into his parents, or his brothers and Ginny he saw how much death hurt them. Although, more and more often as of late, George found himself wondering if this was one of the few occasions in which taking his own life would help his family more than it would hurt them.
It was because of the sad, tear-filled eyes that his family always looked at him with that George had taken to locking himself away in the room he once shared with his better half only leaving to eat and use the bathroom when he was sure everyone else was asleep. Of course, being ever so alert the slightest creek in the stairs would send poor George flying back to his room before someone discovered him.
::x::
Only once in the year since Fred's death had George left the Burrow and he had only made it as far as Diagon Alley.
It was a week or so before Christmas and there was a decent sized crowd of people doing some last minute Christmas shopping. George weaved in and out of the crowd, a ghost among the living. He wandered without a destination in mind, but when he passed his and Fred's old joke shop he couldn't help but to look and then look again for he couldn't believe what he saw.
Facing the window of the shop was a tall, thin figure with fiery red hair that fell just past their shoulders. Could it be? George's breath caught in his throat and tears were forming in his eyes. Could it really be? Fred?
George smiled and quickly crossed the street to close the gap between himself and his brother. "Fred!" he cried. He moved to take his long thought dead brother in his arms when the figure turned. The smile faded from George's face. It wasn't Fred. It wasn't even a boy.
"I'm sorry?" the girl said tilting her head a bit in a way that reminded George of a confused puppy.
"I'm sorry," George sighed, "I thought you were someone else." Looking at her now George had no idea how he could've mistaken this girl for Fred. The girl had to be at least a foot shorter than him and much thinner. Her hair was the same shade of red that the Weasley family was known for but her eyes were the purest shade of green that George had ever seen.
"I'm sorry to disappoint," the girl said kindly. The girl spoke with an American accent and there was an undertone of sadness in it, George noted. "I do that a lot." The girl stared into the window of the joke shop. It was in desperate need of a good wash, and just inside were the shapes of boxes of puking pastilles. From the looks of it there was quite a bit of dust settled on top of them.
"What are you doing here?" George asked. An awkward silence had fallen and he felt the sudden urge to fill it.
"Thinking… It's a joke shop. This should be a happy place and yet all I feel when I look into it is sadness. A terrible sadness that makes my heart ache…" The girl paused and looked up at George with her sad green eyes, "It's kind of like the sadness I feel when I look at you." George looked down at the girl with the sad green eyes. It was almost unbearable, but the sadness came from empathy and not mourning so George didn't have to make himself look away. "What happened here?" the girl asked innocently.
"One of the owners died," George answered, "It was run by a pair of twins. The one that lived couldn't bear to come back here after his brother died. I guess it was too painful for him."
"How sad," the girl replied turning back to the window, "It must be terrible to lose a brother or sister. I imagine it must be even worse to lose a twin."
All George could do was nod. He could feel a lump forming in his throat. "I have to go," George said turning to leave.
"Wait!" the girl cried. Without a second thought she reached out and took George's hand. "I'm new to this country and I don't know anyone and… and I just want to know if I'll see you again…"
"Sure," was all George said before he pulled his hand free from the girl's grasp and apparated home.
Not even a minute had passed before snow started falling from the sky. A few minutes more and there was almost no sign that George had visited his old joke shop. With a sigh and a shudder the young American witch started back towards the Leaky Cauldron where she was staying until she found a more permanent home.
::x::
Now sitting alone in his room more than half a year later George smiled fondly at the memory of that sad green eyed girl. The ghost of a smile faded when he remembered that he had agreed that they would meet again. Maybe back then George had honestly thought they would, but now he was certain that he would never have to look into her sad green eyes again. After tonight George would never have to look anyone into anyone's sad eyes again.
Although, George was against the idea of killing oneself he felt that it had to be done. His family and friends just couldn't seem to move on with a constant reminder of what was lost. If he was gone things would be easier on all of them. He even had everything all planned out. The night before George had snuck into the kitchen and stolen a rather sharp looking knife. It now lay on the corner of his bed glaring up at him almost angrily. George could hardly blame the knife for that though, since he had charmed it to attack him should he fail to do what he must.
"When the sun goes down…" George said to himself, "It'll all be over then…"
From where he was sitting George could see through his window and watch the sunset. The sky was tinted with gorgeous pinks and golds, but the sight was wasted on a man about to die. It was almost time.
Then came a knock on his door. It startled him at first because it had been a long time since anyone had come looking for him. "What?" he asked in a hoarse, unused voice.
Slowly the doorknob turned, the door opened and Ginny took one small step into the room. "There's someone here to see you… She's downstairs," was all Ginny said before she ran up the stairs to her room. It hurt like hell to see his younger sister run from him the way she did. They used to be so close it was crazy to think that now she couldn't be in the same room with him for more than a few seconds.
With a sigh George rose from his bed and left his room. He didn't want to, but he had a visitor and it wouldn't be right to ignore them. George would deal with the visitor and then get back to his room to do what needed to be done.
If only things could be so simple.
The voices of his mother and the visitor reached him when he passed Percy's room.
"So tell me, dear, how do you know George?" his mother asked.
"We met ages ago in… Oh, what is it called? Diagon Alley? Sorry, I'm just terrible with names. I expect that's why I didn't know who I was asking for when I showed up at your door. I'm sorry about that too. It was rude of me to show up uninvited. Anyway, It was my first day in the country and I was wandering around Diagon Alley when I stumbled upon the saddest little joke shop," the girl said. She was rambling a bit, George noticed. Had she done that before?He couldn't remember. "George told me about what happened to the owners," the girl continued. Of course she had no idea that the woman with whom she was speaking was the mother of the owners so when Mrs. Weasley started to tear up the poor girl didn't know what to do.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?" the girl asked trying to comfort the now sobbing Mrs. Weasley. George couldn't tell if his mother was going to stop sobbing long enough to explain to the girl that she knew too well what happened to the young men that ran the joke shop because they were her sons. George didn't want to wait and see. He couldn't be entirely sure why, but he didn't want this girl to know that he was the living half of a dead whole. He didn't want the girl to see sadness when she looked at him.
"Mum, you should go lie down," George said making his presence known, "I'll take it from here." Mrs. Weasley didn't argue. She rose from her chair and headed up the stairs from which George had just come.
Of course, she hadn't even made it to the third step whenthe charmed knife went whizzing past her.
Oh no. George had forgotten about the knife, and now he would pay for it. The knife didn't waste any time as it flew towards George. He knew he should try to dodge it but what was the point? It was under the same spell as the bludger that had mercilessly attacked Harry so long ago. It would keep coming for him until it drew blood.
"George! Look out!" the girl cried. Damn. He had forgotten she was there. The girl had risen from her seat and was now trying to push George out of the knife's way. George didn't expect her to knock him out of the way, but the girl turned out to be stronger than she appeared. She managed to get George to move just in time to avoid the flying blade. Unfortunately, it couldn't turn after him quickly enough. The knife continued to soar towards the place where George's heart had been just seconds earlier and where the bare skin of the girl's shoulder was now placed. The knife flew past her and as it did it cut deep into her shoulder. She did her best to bite back a cry as the pain hit her. The knife fell to the ground. It had done what it was charmed to do.
"George Weasley," Mrs. Weasley said in her you-have-no-idea-how-pissed-off-I-am voice, "What the hell was that?"
"A spell gone horribly awry," George lied, "That wasn't supposed to happen." Well, the last part was true. He had never intended for anyone to save him or hurt themselves trying to.
Before Mrs. Weasley could scold her son further he grabbed the hand of the strange girl and half dragged her into the kitchen where the first aid kit was kept.
"Let me take a look at that," George said to the girl. He didn't wait for a response before he began cleaning the blood away with a wet towel. It was good that he decided not to wait for an answer because the girl didn't seem up to talking suddenly. It seemed strange considering how talkative she had been before. Everything about the girl seemed strange. He didn't even know her name. "Who are you any way?"
"Frederica Sarina Waldgrave," the girl replied proudly, "Fred or Freddie for short."
::1::
Okay. There it is. I hope it wasn't too bad.
… And now you get the "I own Fred" bit.
Oh and, not that this is really relevant; the name of this fanfic was taken from the song "Nothing Good Happens After Dark" by Greeley Estates. They're my favorite band and this is pretty much me whoring them out… I'm sorry.