Watching
A/n: My buddy Tehia and i thought it would be nice to right a twin story from two points of view. mine will probably be a bit sadder bc it's from Fred's point of view, and he'll be looking at his memories with more saddness then George, bc he's...*sniffle* dead... any way i'll try and maintain the happy bubbly Fred as much as possible
Disclaimer: the characters and the book plot belongs to JK Rowling, i just co-own this plot
Prologue
My Memories of my twin aren't as strong as his are of me. I guess memories are stronger if you're still alive. George Fabian Weasley, my twin, my little brother and big brother in the same person. I miss him as much as the goofball misses me. George and I are identical, you know, the famous red Weasley hair, matching blue eyes, his just slightly darker than mine, mine just a tinge greener. We're both tall, lean a little bit more muscular than Ron but less than Charlie and Bill. We have almost the same amount of freckles, George has one more, but I won't tell you where. We walk the same, almost talk the same, my voice is a little lower than his. We match perfectly, and are always wearing certain close to through people off, yeah my favorite color's blue I'll wear say green while George wears blue, Mom thinks she's figured us out, nope, even now she still calls me George and George me, and I'm dead and he's missing an ear!
There's one memory I love in particular, when we first discovered how powerful we were. We were five years old (George might say four, but I'm older so he's wrong) Ron was about three when it occurred, and yes Ron matters in this memory and so does that bloody spider-teddy bear thing he lugged around with him. Mom got a little leg happy when making it for him. Anyway, Ron was sick, yes really sick in fact. Mom had told us to keep an eye on Ron while she made lunch. Ron was asleep, yeah job done, now there was also Ginny to watch she was about one or two, and very good at getting away with mischief (something George and I figured out at about eight) because she blamed it on…..take a guess… yep on Forge and I! I digress, George really wanted to get Ron, because the child took all our attention when we were younger, that's why we are the way we are, attention. I whole heartedly agreed at the time, he was always (along with Ginny) making us look like the bad guys, when half the time we didn't do anything wrong. But see even then I was smart, George might mention something about courage if you ask him, but it was just a matter of smarts not courage. Charlie was about eleven at the time and he had a small, not very vicious, in fact I'm pretty sure it was half dead, komodo dragon in a cage in his room. I snuck it out of his room and down to Ron's. "Here Georgie!" I said handing him the dragon knowing that I'd be the one in trouble if I did all the work, and this was an even load, I was not the only one taking the blame for this elaborate five year old level plan of mine. George replaced the stuffed thing Ron carried, with the dragon. I took the stuffed thingy and hid in our room under George's bed (I know I'm cruel). George and I then went down stairs to play with Ginny and her tea set, gah! It's because of her that I hate tea.
About fifteen minutes later Ginny had curled up on the couch for her nap and Ron had woken up because he was hungry. And then he screamed like our family's pet ghoul had touched him. George and I smiled at each other fiendishly, We got 'em! I heard my twin shriek through our bond. I nodded and smirked my signature smirk. "Fred! George! Check on your brother!" Mom yelled through the kitchen door, so we did. George headed into the room first and saw the dragon on the ground crawling toward us. I ran to get the dragon and George went to calm down Ron. As I put the dragon back in it's cage, I heard Ron wretch all over George downstairs, I came down the stairs as fast as my five year old feet could carry me. I came in to the room to see George growing angrier by the second but with our bond feeding both of us with emotion, I reacted first, Mom's prized vase outside the room exploded into a million pieces, it was broken beyond repair. George's face turned red quickly as that happened and the next thing I know is Ron is on the ground beside me screaming and George had fallen down. Mom came running up the stairs when the screaming of Ron had intensified. "FREDRICK GIDEION, GEORGE FABIAN! EXPLAIN YOURSELVES THIS INSTANT!" Mom bellowed causing George to cry (he was Mom's favorite out of the two of us, I was Dad's). I swallowed and explained as quickly and as calmly as I could what had happened. Mom understood and scooped up Ron, "George, or are you Fred, whoever it is that is covered in puke, go clean yourself up and the other one come with me." George went up to take a shower (yes we took showers then) and I followed Mom downstairs. Needless to say, we both got punished but quickly and then Mom and Dad rewarded us for subconsciously performing magic.