George awoke to the sound of a scream in his flat, but for the first time in six months, it was not his own. George sat up in bed and took in a deep breath. That in itself startled him, because since that day, George felt like he was in a constant state of drowning. As if he had been kicked in the chest and could never take in enough breath again. He had been growing used to that feeling as the days went by. He accepted the feeling, knowing it would be there forever, that and the emptiness he felt without his other half. An emptiness that felt strangely full at the moment. It was almost as if…

A whimper snapped George out of his thoughts, it sounded like it came from the living room. Something was in his home. George slowly crawled out of bed grabbing the wand on his bedside table on his way out of the room. He walked into the living room with his wand raised, unsure of what he was seeing. He thought he was dreaming, or perhaps someone was playing a cruel prank on him. But no matter what the cause, George looked at the trembling figure curled into a ball on the floor. The figure had their back facing George, but the man knew who this was. Who this could not be.

"Fred."

George dropped his wand and ran to his brother. He put a hand on Fred's bare shoulder, but flinched back when the man in front of him began to cower back in fear. He scooted back as far away as he could from George, hitting the wall on the other side of the room. George stared in shock. Fred's eyes were darting around the room in terror. George could scarcely believe what he was seeing. He inched towards his brother.

"Fred?" His voice was soft.

More whimpers came, followed by tears.

George moved closer. "Fred it's me, it's George."

Fred's eyes focused on his brother's, still full of fear. He continued to shake in fear as George moved closer, closing the space between them. Again George reached for his brother, but this time Fred had nowhere to go. When George's hand landed on his brother's shoulder, he found it to be cold and clammy, but he would not let go now. He stared into his brother's eyes, trying to understand. Fred seemed to be doing the same thing, looking for an answer in his brother's eyes. George watched as a sudden realization washed over Fred's face before he tackled him into a hug, sobbing. George held on tightly to his brother, tears pouring out of his eyes as well. This was real. Fred was alive.

6 Months Ago

The last thing Fred remembered was the world crumbling down around him. His world went black, and the next thing he knew he awoke in a world of white. It was quiet, and clean, and Fred was alone. He felt nothing, almost as if he were floating. That, though, posed a serious problem for Fred. For his entire life, Fred could always feel something besides himself. George. His brother had always been there, as he was with him. They were connected. They had come into this world together, and had full intentions of leaving it together too. Old and long from now. They had not even reached their twenties yet, but here Fred was, without George and gone from the world he knew.

Fred knew he was dead. That was all it could mean. This place, the way he felt, there was no other reason for it. That, however, was unacceptable. Fred could not stay dead. He began to panic; trying to shake off this knew feeling of nothing. He searched the area for anything, but all it seemed like was endless nothing.

"I think you should calm down Mr. Weasley." Fred turned around to see Professor Dumbledore standing before him.

Fred shook his head and ran up to the man. "No, I can't be dead Professor. Not without George. I can't leave him alone! I have to get back, there must be a way."

Before Fred could plead anymore, he heard a whistle and a train appeared. Fred stared at it in confusion.

"This is your stop Mr. Weasley. I think it is time you got on your train."

"No. No. I won't. I can't. George won't be okay without me. And Mum, she already lost her brothers in the first war. She can't lose a son as well. I'm not getting on that train. I'll sit here for all eternity if I have to, all the while thinking of a way to get back. I'm not moving on without him."

Dumbledore's face grew solemn. "Fred, the dead cannot return to the living. There are rules of the universe that must be followed."

"Rules? I don't care about rules. When I have ever followed a rule?"

Dumbledore tilted his head a little.

"There is a way isn't there?" Hope sparked in Fred. "Tell me, please."

Dumbledore sighed. "For the dead to return to the living, a great sacrifice must be made. For you to go back would depend not just on yourself, but your brother as well."

"How? I'll do anything." Fred's eyes were desperate.

"It won't be easy." Dumbledore leaned in. "I must warn you Mr. Weasley, this task has almost no chance of succeeding. One mistake and you will not get a chance to step on that train again. If you fail, you will lose any chance of seeing George or the rest of your family again."

That scared Fred, but he did not care. "Can you show them to me? Can I just see how they are doing?"

Dumbledore raised his hand and a window appeared. There was the Great Hall, his cold dead body lying on the floor while everyone hovered around it. Tears were falling out of all their eyes. George looked lost, like he was drowning and never knew what swimming was. He latched onto the nearest person unable to let go. That was enough for Fred.

George was always the one to think things out, while Fred acted without a thought. And right now he would do anything to go back. "I'll do it."

The Professor nodded and told him what he needed to do.

Present Time

George was not sure how long he held Fred, both sobbing into one another. Fred's grip on George never loosened, but George knew he needed to make sure Fred would be okay. He had noticed how cold his brother felt, and that worried him.

"Fred…Fred, come on we need to warm you up. Get you in some clothes."

Fred took a shaky breath and nodded. He let George help him to the couch where George sat him down. George could feel the weakness in his brother, the boy could barely hold himself up. George looked around where he dropped his wand, actually Fred's wand was what he grabbed when he got up, and went back over to his brother to do a warming spell on him.

"I'm going to grab you some clothes." George began to walk to the next room when he saw the panic in Fred's eyes. He did not want to be left alone, not even for a second. "I'll be right back."

George did not want to leave him either. He worried that the moment he took his eyes off of Fred, his brother would disappear, and George would wake up from the very real dream he must have been having. As George grabbed clothes out of the wardrobe he took another deep breath. A million thoughts raced through his head, but none mattered because Fred was alive. He returned to the living room relieved to find Fred right where he left him. He was still shaking even though his body had warmed up. George sat down next to him.

"Let me help you get these on." George helped Fred dress and realized his brother had yet to say a single word. George felt like he needed to fill the silence between them. "I'll make some tea."

He got up again, going into the kitchen, his eyes never straying far from his brother. Once the tea was on, George sat back down. Fred was staring at the floor, still shaking a little.

George put a hand on Fred's arm. He was still trying to believe he was real. "Fred?"

Fred did not stir.

George wanted to say a thousand things. He wanted to ask him what happened. What he remembered. He wanted to scream for Fred to say something, anything, but he did not. Instead he settled on the most important thing he could think of.

"I've missed you, Fred."

The tea began to whistle, and George got up again to get it. George brought both mugs over and set his own on the coffee table. He offered the cup in his hands to Fred, but the boy only looked at it. George put it in his hands, but quickly realized Fred was too weak to hold it on his own. George put Fred's hands around the mug and helped him hold it in his lap. He hoped the extra heat would help him. They sat in silence as George waited for the tea to cool enough to be drunk. Once George decided the tea had cooled, he helped Fred bring the mug to his lips and take a small sip. Fred let out a breath that George could only describe as a memory. Where Fred had been, he certainly did not have tea there, and now being back was reminding him of his life before. George hoped that meant he would be okay. After they drank their tea, they continued to sit in silence. George noticed Fred's eyes begin to drift, so he got off the couch and grabbed a blanket draped over the back of the sofa.

"You should get some sleep." He gently pushed Fred down, and could tell the boy was fighting sleep.

George swept the hair out of his brother's face. "Don't worry, I'll be here when you wake up. I solemnly swear it."

George thought he saw the makings of a smile on Fred's face, but could not be sure. It did not take long for Fred to drift off. George sat on the floor next to the couch, his hand on Fred's. If this was a dream, he was going to hold onto it as long as he possibly could.

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AN: Thanks for reading!