Forge-ing On Without Gred
Disclaimer: No, I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter series or characters. J. K. Rowling does. This plot, however, is entirely mine (although, so it is more realistic, I have used authentic book quotes), and I'd prefer for it to stay that way. I am very protective of the things I write, from the tiniest poems to my book. Oh yeah, I wrote a book, too. As soon as I finish the bloody editing, I'm sending it to a literary agent. I've had my query letter done for ages, but really, editing is such a pain in the derrière that it is really dragging itself out. Or maybe I'm just incredibly lazy… Anyhow, it's titled No Magic, and it'll be coming to a bookstore near you, so look out for it, okay? Oh, and that title's mine too. So no touchie!
As for this fan fiction story, it is my first. My friends have been obsessed with fan fiction for a while, and after the third pretty much ordered me to write something, I decided to. And this story had been brewing in my head since 8 AM, Saturday, 21 July- the exact time that I completed the last Harry Potter book. Oh, this has spoilers from every book, I suppose, so beware. Anyhow, Fred's death really tore me up- the Weasley twins were probably my two favorite characters- and writing is comforting and a thing I usually do, so I began this story. It's relatively unedited and occurred rather spontaneously, so go easy on me, all right? Reviews would be dandy, but it would just be nice if you read my story. I can't make any promises about updates and I have no idea how long it will take me to reach the ending I have in mind, but if you want to read my story with those risks in mind, go ahead. Enjoy!
Chapter One: Shock
My breathing is so heavy and uneven that I am positive I must be going into shock, but it is not my breathing that's got me concerned. It's Fred's. Or, rather, the lack thereof. I am in a scene from one of my worst nightmares. My entire family is clustered around a body. The face, ashen pale and cold, is identical to mine, except it has two ears. But what help are two ears when you're… dead? My brother, my twin, my best friend, is lying dead on the floor, and there's nothing I can do to help.
We always help- we always used to help- each other out in tough situations, usually those involving Filch, Hogwarts' caretaker. But now… No one can save Fred now. No one… I was his best mate, and now I can only stare at his dead face, bemused. The rest of my family is dealing with the loss in their own ways. My mum, sobbing unabashedly. Dad, comforting her while gazing at his son in shock. Bill, Fleur, and Charlie, simply watching the proceedings detachedly, their eyes as glassy as Fred's must be behind their dead lids. Percy, having finally realized that he was acting like a terrible, treacherous prat, had just made up with us all. Moments after we were reconciled… Sadness came over us again. Now he is trembling, his horn-rimmed glasses lying askew on his pale face, his arm around Ron, who is huddled miserably next to him. Ginny has silent tears pouring down her face as she is embraced by Hermione. Some Weasleys absorbed in their own grief, others trying to console Mother, who is taking this really hard. But as I stare at them all from my place at Fred's head, I feel a terrible rage well up in me. He was my twin, after all, and no one thinks to specifically comfort me.
Then, realizing how horrid I am being, I swallow apologetically and stand up. I cannot stand this scene any more. "George…" Charlie says hesitantly, his voice cracking. I ignore him and pace away, avoiding the other bodies lying on the floor. I don't even want to know who else died. Only one death could make me feel this terrible, and it occurred. I can't deal with any more pain.
As I pointlessly wander through the corridor by the Great Hall, Lee Jordan calls out to me. "George! Hey, George!" I do not answer, so he tries again. "Fred?" The feeling that came over me at that moment was so powerful that I cannot even describe what happened when I got confused with Fred for what was probably the last time. With my single ear, that had not been happening as often, but at times like this, when I was seen from a distance… Nausea sweeps over me in a fierce wave, and I double over, coughing up an insanely large amount of vomit. Even testing the Puking Pastilles when they were still faulty was not as bad as this, but then again, Fred was with me then, at my side to laugh and make me well. Now, without my twin, I feel as though I have just regurgitated all of my inner organs, or at least my spleen. The growing pile of sick looks like it has a spleen-like lump. Or maybe it's my heart that I've spit up. Merlin knows it's already damaged beyond repair.
Lee is at my side in a second. "George? What's wrong? Where's Fred?" I wordlessly shake my head. For a moment, it looks like Lee is going to hurl up, too, but then my lack of an answer apparently gives him hope. "Is he missing? We'll find him, George, I swear we will!"
For a moment, I revel in the knowledge that to Lee, at least, Fred is still alive. As much as I want to lose myself in this illusion, I know that it won't last forever. I sigh, an invisible weight pulling my entire weary body down, and open my mouth to explain this impossible situation. Then, as I look into Lee's concerned eyes, I spot something on the wall behind him. A mirror. In it, with Lee blocking my ear-less side, it is as if Fred is alive, breathing again. I allow a small gasp of air to escape my throat before sudden inspiration hits me. I know very well what I must do. "Come on, Lee," I tell him, struggling to pull my eyes away from my reflection. "There's something we have to do."
"For Fred?" Lee questions, confused.
I nod grimly and say my dead twin's name. "For Fred."