The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he's just a fool
And he never gives an answer.
It was a small town, like many others in Scotland, where people lived their lives without any extraordinary event. It was an usual sunny Sunday, with people still dressed in their best outfits, old people sitting at the city square talking or playing chess, children playing in the streets. One of the children, pointed to the end of the road and exclaimed, "Look! The man is coming!"
At the road a man walked slowly toward the green covered hill followed by the eyes of everyone in town. He didn't surprise them anymore. During the last years he would come and go without a single word to anyone. Like every time he came, he ignored the stares and ascended to the top of the hill, and there, under the lonely maple tree he would stay. For hours he would remain still, smiling with his eyes set on the horizon.
At the beginning the town folks would keep observing him from far, either adults or children. They tried to talk to him in the road. They asked questions, but he never answered. That was enough to make everyone think he was crazy and that they should keep their distance from him. At least the adults did. Like always, children would still wonder the truth behind this man. They would make tales about what him and his life would probably be like. But the children never bothered asking him questions. Fantasy is always better than reality.
But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning round.
Once again George found himself standing on top of that hill. Every now and then that would happen. Every now and then he got this uncontrollable urge to get up there. This would happen every time he needed to talk with Fred.
Fred used to love this place ever since he found out the wood from his wand came from this maple tree. He said that beside it he had a peaceful place to think, about life, about the war, about death. George soon knew that if he couldn't find his brother anywhere it was probably because he was standing under this tree.
And now, after that fateful night, anytime George needed his brother by his side more than anything in the world, he would come here. From up here he could see the sun going down behind the hills, the river flowing steadily, children playing, people working. And there he would stay, on top of that hill, trying to figure out what to do with his life.
Well on the way, head in a cloud,
The man of a thousand voices talking perfectly loud.
But nobody ever hears him
Or the sound he appears to make
And he never seems to notice.
There were days when the man would just go up the hill and stay there for hours and then leave. On those days the town folk didn't really bother the visit of this stranger. But from time to time, this man would yell at the top of his lungs calling for someone, asking for answers. At first, people would get scared and hide away, but now people in town just ignored him. They barely listened to him at all, one could even think that they didn't even acknowledge his presence, were it not for the fact that on the screaming days they would keep the children locked inside their houses.
People of this town were even beginning to tell tales about the fool on the hill and his incomprehensible cries. Some were even starting to believe that he could be some sort of monster like in the ancient tales. Whenever they screamed back at him telling him to hunt some other place, he wouldn't even demonstrate reaction. He would leave silently, but would eventually get back to the same place.
But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning round.
Many and many times he would scream, cursing with all his might for being alone, for not being able to save his brother. He felt so lonely that he wanted to scream. Nobody understood what he was going through. He lost at once his brother, his best friend, his soul mate, because that's what Fred meant to George. They completed each other.
He would scream, searching for answers, for a way to ease his pain. But nobody replied to his calls. He would send questions into the air and only get a soft wind on his face in return. But this blow of wind to him felt like his brother trying to comfort his heart.
And nobody seems to like him,
They can tell what he wants to do
And he never shows his feelings.
Like every time he showed up, just after the sunset the man got back on the road and left the town. Once more he remained a mystery, another story to tell to their friends and family. He gave them something to talk about, but nobody really liked him, nor cared about how he could be feeling. Some teenagers would even wait for him beside the road just to insult him. But the truth is that he didn't show any emotion at all. He would arrive and leave with the same look on his face.
But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning round.
As the sun completely hid himself behind the horizon leaving the pink sky behind, he knew it was time to head back home and so he went back to the road walking with steady paces feeling alone but no longer lonely. He ignored the words thrown at him. He got out of the town and disapparated home.
He never listens to them,
He knows that they're the fools
They don't like him.
The fool on the hill sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning round.
Even better than going to that place to get in touch with his long lost brother was getting home to his lovely wife. She didn't argue with him anymore when he got home later than usual, even though she still asked him why he went there where everyone thought that he was a fool, that he was some sort of lunatic. And he always answered her that they were the fools, that all he needed was a place to think. But what he never told her is that he had to do this. Only with Fred he was complete, and he needed to stay in touch with him just to make sure his mind would remain sane.
A.N.: This was my first attempt on writing a fic about George... I hope I did it well, but if I didn't feel free to tell me so I can fix it ;). So, R&R, it will make my day wonderful!