I've been wanting to write a story for a while now, just an idea never popped into my head. I don't really have one now, but I've just decided to go for it. Review!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me, obviously.
Fred and George.
Fred and George.
George. Just George.
"George! George, get up!" he heard his mother calling him. He heard her coming up the stairs, he was prepared for the speech. The lecture, but she knocked softly on the door, and when he didn't answer, she cracked it open. He heard her gasp a little at the sight. Clothes were all over George's floor, cardboard boxes, waiting-to-be-tested products… that never would be tested. He rolled over on his bed, not facing his mother. Again, he expected a lecture. None came, she only sighed and stepped her way over the rubbish on the floor, until she got to George's bed, sitting down on it. She patted George's leg and sighed again. "Mum, I'm not ready to get up…"
"George, dear… I think it's unhealthy for you to… stay in here all the time. You… you need to get out! Remember…? Your shop? Fred wouldn't want you to be like this –" He shut his eyes, trying to block out his mother's lecture. Of course he remembered his shop. Of course he didn't think Fred would want this. She was surely taking Fred's death in stride. "Alright, George?" Molly Weasley finished, bringing George back to Earth. He mumbled a "yes" and rolled back over to face his mother. "Mum… I miss him…"
"Oh, dear… I know. I know you do. I miss him too," she said, laying her hand down on his leg, and he felt the cold against his warm leg. Her hands were cold. "But we can't wallow in our sadness forever… Fred is in a better place, we all know that. But… you can't act like you're the only one who misses him. I mean, look at Percy…" she seemed to be trying to choose her words carefully, as if she didn't want to upset George. "He… it was almost… his fault… at least he thinks it is… and… well, Percy's got a girlfriend… he's laughing again…"
"Percy? Percy the Prefect? Got a girlfriend?" I asked, almost forgetting to be sad. "Well. Good job, old Percy. What's… what's she look like?" His mother smiled at this. "Percy's bringing her over for dinner. Which is why," she said, standing up, "you should get cleaned up and… straighten up this room, for goodness sakes." She smiled warmly at George and cautiously stepped over the debris, and stumbled out of George's room, closing the door shut.
He shut his eyes, pressing the balls of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them. He dropped his hands, sighing. Every time he shut his eyes he saw Fred. Fred, who would never come into the kitchen again, Fred, who would never sit down at the dinner table and make it lively, Fred, who would never walk into the store with George, Fred, who would never test products –
Come on, George. He heard Fred, talking to him, but then remembered… Fred's dead. He's gone. It's only him. He was only talking to himself. George, get your lazy bum off of this bed and go live a little! He jerked his head up. He was almost positive it was Fred this time. Maybe Fred was talking in his head? George shook himself, rolled off of his bed, and stood up, trying to ignore the mess. He stepped over everything, stumbling to the bathroom. He hadn't been out of his bed in days, he almost forgot what it was like to walk. You're ridiculous, Georgie. He heard in his head again. He walked to the bathroom, and stood in front of the mirror, and he didn't even look like George anymore. He looked like a homeless man. He saw a little bit of red stubble on his chin, and he passed his face over it, feeling it, as if checking to see if that was what it was. Fred would be ashamed. George peeked out of the bathroom and looked at his bedroom door, as if expecting Fred to pop in and make everything okay, but of course, it didn't happen. He turned back to the mirror, and somewhere, behind the stubble, and the bags under his eyes, and the shallow, hungry look in his face, there was a George somewhere, and there was also a Fred, oh yes. Fred was there too, and he always would be.
George shook his head, chuckling sadly. He bent down, turning on the water and splashing some into his face. He grabbed his shaving cream can and slapped some on his face, and, getting his razor, he shaved off the stubble. He rinsed his face again, looking in the mirror. His hair had gotten slightly longer, and he sighed, walking out of the bathroom, and stumbling to his dresser. He grabbed out a nice light purple, crisp, button-down shirt. He pulled off his pajama top and slipped the shirt over his head, buttoning it in record time. Fred would've made a joke about that. George shook his head again and he searched around in his drawer, finally, he found some pants and pulled them on too. He ruffled his hair with one hand, the other hand on the doorknob. Then ,taking a deep breath, he walked out of his room, and down the stairs.
When George got down to the kitchen, he saw his mother, leaning over the stove, flipping pieces of bacon, and he had half of a mind to scare her, like he and Fred used to do by Apparating every few feet. He smiled at the memory, and decided just to leave his mother alone. He tiptoed past her into the dining room, where Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting. He jumped when he saw them, almost wanting to run back to his room. Instead, he stood there, grinning a little. Ginny jumped up, grinning widely, her red hair pulled back, and hugged George. "It's nice to see you, Georgie!" she said, letting go of him. George smiled a bit more, and nodded at Ron, Harry and Hermione. "I was going to ask you if you wanted me to open the shop today, but since you're awake now, you wanna open it together?" Ron asked, sitting quite close to Hermione.
"Uh… well, sure. I guess we'll open up the shop today, yeah." George nodded slowly.
"Good. We'll eat breakfast and then we'll let Mum know we're going…" said Ron, with slight authority. Then, Molly Weasley came into the dining room, carrying a plate full of bacon, and a bowl full of sausages. "Up and about, George?" and he nodded. How could they all be over Fred already? He noticed that Ginny had small bags under her eyes, and a slight tear-streaked face, so at least she hadn't forgotten about Fred. But, Harry and Ron looked completely fine. Hermione looked a little down, maybe… and without thinking, he ruffled his hair while everyone was sitting down and blurted out, "How can you all just… forget about Fred? Pretend he was never here? How can you… go on with life? Without Fred? He was… he was our brother, and your son," he pointed at Molly, who gasped. "You… you've all just forgotten he was ever here –"
"George!" shouted Ron, noticing Molly's eyes fill with tears and Ginny looked taken aback. "None of us have forgotten Fred," he said, getting up and standing in front of George. "We've just accepted the fact that he's dead and he's in a better place, and we're not wallowing in our sadness, staying in bed all day like some GITS." he shouted again, his eyes wild.
"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LOSE HALF OF YOURSELF, DO YOU RON?" George shouted back, feeling much like punching his little brother. "YOU WILL NEVER KNOW. I HAVE A RIGHT TO BE WALLOWING!" and with that, George stormed out of the kitchen, walking out of his house, slamming the door.