Void
The world was crashing down around him. He looked down into the mirror image of his face and fought down the urge to vomit. He ran out of the Great Hall and down the nearest corridor. Reaching a classroom whose door was partially open, he collapsed inside. He held his head in his rough hands an let out and inhuman scream.
The scream was filled with the pain of one who had lost everything, including part of himself. There was a void in the back of his head, one that could not be filled. Clawing at his head, tears flowed as he mourned. Ginger tufts were falling to the floor and he didn't take time to notice his surroundings. Banging his fists into the stone, he wailed. He did not stop, even when he drew blood, flowing from the cuts on his hands. He fell back and smashed his head against a wall. His vision blurred and darkness enclosed him as he slid onto the floor, unconscious.
It was light and airy. He felt the warm glow of the sun and he opened his eyes groggily. Stretching and yawning, he took in his surroundings. The Burrow loomed ahead of him and he smiled, walking towards it. No, not walking, gliding. He was sliding steadily to the front gate as though crystalline ice. He breathed in the sweet smell from the apple blossoms on the nearby trees.
The gate creaked opened and he saw some familiar silhouettes inside. Sitting around the kitchen table was Lupin, Dumbledore and Snape. Dumbledore in a royal purple robe was whistling merrily, his unblemished hands twirling his half-moon glasses. A youthful Lupin and a surprisingly grease-free Snape were arguing amiably at the table. They seemed unable to be truly upset, all cares put to rest.
"What's going on, my refined gentlemen," George said happily, clapping Snape and Lupin jovially on the shoulder. He smiled across to Dumbledore whose eyes twinkled. Lupin grinned up at him, and Snape cracked something similar to a smile. George breathed in, smelling something sweet. "Who's baking?" he asked, walking into the kitchen.
A blur of pink smashed into him as Tonks rounded the corner. "Wotcha George? Fred's not been any help at all. He keeps trying to slip some Canary Creams into the pastries. Going to warn the others to watch what they eat." Tonks slid past him, revealing his grinning twin. He felt the familiar presence and raced across the kitchen to embrace him.
George felt Fred smile into his shoulder and drew back. Fred touched George's ear and laughed. George felt his restored ear in amazement and looked questioningly at him. "This isn't the Burrow..." George trailed off.
"Really? Looks like it to me," Fred said lightly, looking around. "Although I see what you mean, too quiet and clean." Fred jumped onto the counter to sit down and swung his legs back and forth, like a child. He grinned at George who watched his twin. The sunlight streamed through the window behind him, highlighting his ginger hair. He walked forwards to stand in front of Fred, feeling the presence fill the void. Fred leaned down to press his forehead against George's. "I'll always be there. You may not feel it but I'm watching over you," Fred said. George drew back in panic, eyes wide.
"No, you can't leave. I won't let you," George said, trying to grab hold of Fred. His hands slipped through him, as though through mist. The light started to fade and Fred grew fainter. "No!" Fred screamed, groping through the thick, black fog.
Groaning, George sat up, clutching his head. He felt dried blood and felt the gaping hole where his ear used to be. He felt the empty space in his mind and cried. Tears washed streaks of blood from his face. He looked around the room, searching for his missing twin. He spotted an ornate mirror and crawled over. George slumped against it, staring hopelessly at his bloodied reflection.
The image shifted, moving, until Fred peered back at him. His twin smiled silently at George, his cornflower eyes staring through George. He put his hand up to the glass and George placed his grimy palm onto where Fred's hand was. The cool glass did not give way, no matter how hard he pressed against it, desperately trying to get through.
The warmth from his palm warmed the glass while his breath made foggy patches. George heard a bird in the distance and heard the broken window of the classroom creak open, pushed by a summer breeze. It twined through his hair and he sniffed the gust of warm air. It brought memories flooding back. Lazy afternoons on a broomstick, slipping different solutions into food but mostly of Fred.
Every summer they made it more memorable than the last. This was supposed to be the best one yet. Voldemort was gone, business was booming and Percy had returned to the family. They were going to teach Teddy to be a prankster, become the next generation of marauders. All those plans were blasted to piece when the side of Hogwarts blew up, bringing Fred with it.
George stood up shakily, one hand still pressed against the glass. He felt into his pocket for the thin strip of wood, his last resort. He looked steadily into Fred's welcoming eyes, pressing the tip into his neck.
"I'll see you soon brother."
A/N: I love the twins. I hated it when Fred died. George's story was never really followed up. If I were in his position I would have immense trouble coping.
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