Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; they are J.K Rowling's. Also, the lyrics (the passages in italics) are not mine; the music is called I Dare You to Move by Switchfoot. Only the plot is mine.
A/N: This is not a one-shot- I repeat, this is not a one-shot. I'm planning this to have at least one or two more chapters, but the idea right now is that all of them will be song-fictions connecting to the same story. Read and Review please!
George Weasley was lying on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling wall in his room. This used to be his brother's room as well. The bed next to his not far off was still the same state, the dust piling on steadily while the posters of Quidditch teams started fraying around the edges. Everyday it hurt to be in this room, yet he stayed. He wanted to hurt, to feel the pain clutch at his heart, because it was the only thing he allowed himself to feel, apart from guilt. Almost everyday when he was not lounging around feeling down, he bitterly wished that it was him that got blasted by that damned wall during the wall.
A small knock made him incline his head towards the door, but he did not do anything else. It was probably one of his family members or friends trying to get him out. The Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was currently being run by Ron, and it was still fine. And as long as the business was fine, George was going to stay in his room or in the flat above the store as much as he could. He only came down to eat for a minute or to pass Ron his new inventions half-heartedly. Nonetheless, they were still a success.
The knocking was getting louder and louder, until it sounded like the person was sending a barrage of fists against the door.
"George Weasley! I know that you're in there!"
He blinked a couple of times, slightly surprised. Oh, it was Hermione. He never knew that she could hit anything without hurting herself in the process, but there she was; ready to break the door down.
"For Merlin's sake! I want an answer!"
Of course he did not reply. He heard a clear, exasperated sigh from the opposite wall. "Look, if you're still alive and kicking, throw something against the door please."
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face for the first time in months, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. Looking for something insignificant to break, he found his alarm clock that did not work. Throwing it with accurate aim, it hit the door with a loud 'thud'. The clock bounced off with barely a dent on its side.
"Okay, not a good idea to encourage him to throw things around," he heard her mutter. Again, he smiled. She cleared her throat, and spoke once more. "George, can I come in?"
He glared at the door, knowing quite well that she could not see him. He heard her sigh again, frustrated. "I won't ask you to throw something again. Just say yes or no, and I'll leave you alone for today."
"Bugger off," his voice was barely above a croak, but she seemed to have heard him. Grumbling about 'rude manners', he heard her storm down the stairs. Shaking his head, feeling bemused, he took a long glance at Fred's bed. He remembered how Fred would sit on the bed crossed legged, either ranting about some brilliant idea he had, or biting numerous Chocolate Frogs' heads off.
'I wish you were here,' he thought wistfully, a sudden pang appearing on his chest. Fighting back the hot tears, he let his head fall on his pillow and was soon in a restless sleep.
He woke up, what felt like minutes after his sleep, from the banging against his door again. The sunlight was streaming through his window. 'Bloody hell!' He thought groggily, not happy from the annoying noise. He was very sure that it was Granger who was causing this, just like yesterday.
"Look, I would very much appreciate it if you weren't trying to break my door down!" He shouted, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely. The ruckus ceased immediately, but there was a series of shuffling feet, which the sound was equally irritating, albeit quieter. Grumpily, he jumped out of his bed and headed straight for the door, yanking it open with unnecessary force.
Sure enough, Hermione Granger was standing there, a hand on her waist. "What do you want?" He snapped uncharacteristically. She looked taken aback for a moment, but regained herself almost immediately. She tilted her head upwards to meet his eyes.
Her glare equaled his own, and despite himself, he was amused. "I'm here to talk with you," she snapped back. He mentally kicked himself for getting the door; he should have just left her be. 'Maybe I can Disapparate myself out of here…'
"Don't even think about it," she said coolly, as if she heard his thoughts. He barely held back a wince. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley still haven't cancelled out the spell that stops you from Apparating or Disapparating yourself from this house. Good idea, if you ask me."
He scowled, and started to close the door, when Hermione managed to slip in the room. Shutting the door behind them swiftly, she turned to him, determination etched on her face. "I'm going to stay here until we talk properly, and I know that you won't manhandle a girl to get her out of your room. So might as well get this over with, George. Don't even think about running out of here either," she added as an afterthought.
"Who said I wouldn't manhandle a girl?" he asked under his breath darkly. She ignored him and sat wisely on his bed, avoiding Fred's. She waited for him patiently to sit next to her. After a long moment of tense silence, he grudgingly obliged. He waited for her to do something.
Before he turned his full attention to her, she hugged him tightly. His blue eyes widened in shock. In truth, he was not sure of what she would do. Yell, was a definite; he had seen what she could do when she was angry, thanks to Ron. Give him a ten minute prep-talk, even. Whatever he expected Hermione to do, George was certainly was not prepared this. He sat there dumbly, letting her draw him closer.
"George," she whispered in his ear, trembling slightly. Involuntarily, he wrapped his arms around her. It was a common gesture of comfort he would give anyone during the war. Back then, if someone shivered, it was not because of the cold air, but because of fear that chilled them right down to their bones. "Please come back."
"But I'm here," he could not remember saying those words. She scoffed slightly, but a sob building in her throat ruined the effect. Her bushy hair tickled his chin as she buried her face into his broad shoulders.
"No, you're not. You don't joke, you don't smile, you don't even speak! You just mope around, occasionally making inventions, and yes, the inventions are genius, but you don't enjoy making them like you used to! We need you back. We know that you're hurting… all of us are. But we learned how to cope, how to deal with them, although not completely," her whispers were tender now, soft and muffled. "Mrs. Weasley… she's almost back to her normal self, she tries so hard for the family. But you can tell it hurts her as much as it hurts you right now that you're the only child of hers that is depressed."
She put him at an arm's length, looking at him straight in the eye. He stared back unwaveringly. Her warm brown eyes were tainted with agony, and it struck him then how much pain everyone was going through. But just… not as much as him. After all, he lost his twin, his brother, his best friend. Who could know such a pain?
His jaws clenched, and he stiffened in hot anger. No, nobody, not even Hermione knew what he was going through. Understanding his sudden stillness, she gave him a sad look before rising, releasing him from her grip. Swiftly, she placed a kiss on his forehead, and walked out with an air of dejection. The door clicked quietly behind her.
Nobody could explain what happened next, not even him. It felt like a dormant flame had finally burst, roaring through his veins. His brain was fogged up; he did not bother thinking clearly. He clawed at Fred's untouched bed, trying to tear it with his bare hands. With an animalistic roar, he pulled out his wand and flung every destroying hex or curse he could think of around the room. The walls cracked, the desks toppled over. Posters over Fred's bed fluttered wildly as if a tornado hit them.
Everyone down in the kitchen eating lunch, apart from Hermione, looked up at the stairs, alarm showing on each face. Harry had jumped up, but Ginny pulled him back down. "George," her voice shaking. Mr. Weasley buried his face in his hands, and Mrs. Weasley slumped onto a chair, her face chalky-white.
George dimly registered that Hermione was still there, outside his room, leaning against the door. She was sobbing, he could tell. Maybe it was the silent crying that punctured his heart even more. But when his eyes fell on Fred's now destroyed bed, all thoughts of her was wiped off.
"WHY FRED?! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE?! WHY COULDN'T IT BE ME?! DAMN IT FRED?! WHY DID YOU BLOODY LEAVE ME?!"
Welcome
to the planet
Welcome to existence
Everyone's
here
Everyone's here
He started yelling himself hoarse, not caring about the pins he felt in his throat. He collapsed onto his twin's bed, punching the mattress. Sobs erupted through his body, shaking him violently. "Why Fred? Why…" His voice started to trail off when his eyes fell upon the bottle of sleeping pills. He took them very rarely. 'Didn't Muggles commit suicide this way?' the thought made him laugh hollowly.
Still shaking slightly, he forced himself to walk towards the bottle of pills. Rattling the bottle, he emptied half the bottle onto his palms. 'This should be enough.' And without hesitation, he swallowed all of them. He went back to Fred's bed, and laid there, the dust not disturbing him. He started to feel drowsy, and the walls started to spin too quickly for his eyes to adjust. Closing his eyes, he tumbled into the darkness.
Everybody's
watching you now
Everybody waits for you now
What happens next?
I
dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
"Merlin, is that you, George?!"
The familiar voice that he longed to hear after all these months woke him up. Deftly, he stood on his feet, his eyes drowning the sight of Fred standing in front of him.
"FRED! YOU PRAT!"
He flung himself onto his brother, who embraced him back clumsily. George soon reluctantly pulled himself away from his brother, coughing sheepishly. "Um, I missed you."
Fred ran his fingers through his hair, looking torn. "I missed you too, George. You have no clue how much I miss you and the family."
He took a look around. "Where are we anyways?"
I
dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never
happened
Today never happened before
"Heaven."
"Heaven?"
Fred ruffled George's hair lightly. "Whadda think this place was, bro? I wasn't that bad in my past life, although we both tried to cross the line now and then."
"I dunno, a dream, I guess," his face broke into the grin so wide that it ached his mouth. "But this is much better than I expected."
Fred gave him an odd look. It then occurred to George that Fred was not so… enthusiastic about his brother being with him. "George, you're dead." He said slowly.
The other twin shrugged. "Well, duh, I have to be, or else you wouldn't be next to me." Oh, how strange it was that he could accept his brother's death now!
"George."
His brother's oddly strained voice made him frown. "What?"
"You idiot," he said, sighing. "As much as I love, and I really mean love having you here with me so that we can be 'Fred and George, the Weasley twins' again, I can't be selfish. You shouldn't be here."
George furrowed his brows. "What?!"
Gesturing to the ground below him, Fred spoke, "Here's what the situation's like right now down there. You have just taken an overdose of sleeping pills on purpose," he broke off to give him a glare. "-which is the most stupid thing you could have ever done, and Hermione found out. The whole family moved you to St. Mungo's after dad got rid of that pesky spell which stops anyone from Apparating and Disapparating."
The image below them showed exactly what Fred was saying. Hermione was bending over him in the white room, while a Healer was waving their wands in a complicated manner.
Welcome
to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
The
tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between
how it is and how it should be
"I'm afraid you all need to leave this room," a blond Healer stated calmly. One by one, the Weasleys and Potter trumped out; Hermione refused to budge from his side.
"Ms. Granger, you'll have to stay outside."
"No."
"If you do not stay out now, I will have to get you out of this room by force."
"I don't care."
Disapprovingly, she pried Hermione away from George's side and pushed her out of the door. The door closed on Hermione's face loudly. George saw Harry come up and place a
hand on her shoulder. Closing her eyes, she leaned against him. Bill paced around the corridor agitatedly, Charlie was knocking his head against the wall, Mr. Weasley was trying to comfort Mrs. Weasley, Ginny was biting her fingernails, and Percy held his head in his hands.
His family had never looked so broken.
I
dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself
up off the floor
"Bloody idiot," he heard Harry say as he patted Hermione's bushy hair. "Why George would do something like that, I'll never understand… Uh, Hermione? What are you doing?"
She shook off Harry and clenched her fist so tightly that her knuckles grew white. In a blink of an eye, she threw herself at the door, thumping it with all her might. "I have a dare for you, George Weasley! I have a freaking dare for you!"
Everyone including the people passing by, whether it was a Healer or a patient, stared at her in astonishment. Mrs. Weasley burst into a fresh batch of tears. Ron came behind her and tried to hold Hermione and pull her away from the door. She struggled difficultly, trying to release her arms. She started shouting with desperation lacing her words, grief plainly etched on her delicate face.
"I dare you to move! I dare you to live like you used to, I dare you to move or so help me I will NEVER forgive you!"
The door opened again, a male Healer sticking his head out. His eyes fell on Hermione, who stood with a rocky expression. "Will you stop it with the deafening sound?!" He inquired rudely. Without waiting for a reply, his head disappeared, shutting the door. George briefly sympathized for the door. Poor thing.
Her arms fell limply to her sides, and Ron let go of her uncertainly. Her jaws were locked, but her caramel eyes were ablaze. Tears welled up, yet refused to spill over. Her mouth barely moved as she whispered, "I dare you."
I
dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never
happened
Today never happened before
"I think you need to go back down there, bro," Fred said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll meet you one day again, I swear, but it's not your time yet." Shaking his head, he helped George up. "Nope, definitely not your time yet. So go back."
George's face crumbled. "But you have no idea how hard it is-"
"Yes I do, you arse. I'm your twin, and I see you all everyday. And it breaks me to see you like that, mate." Fred suddenly pulled him to a hug again. He spoke fiercely. "Live and love
while you can. I'll miss you- hell, I miss you every damned day, along with everyone else. So live for me and most importantly, live for yourself."
Nodding, Fred let him go. "Close your eyes, lie down, and try being in tune with them. Don't try coming up here again, or I'll whip your arse."
Chuckling, he did what Fred told him to do. "I miss you."
"I miss you too."
He could barely make up his brother's voice now. 'No!' he thought, panicking.
'Let go, you git. I love you, and tell them that I love and miss them all. I'll always be watching you guys, and for bloody sake, run that shop properly now! And remember that I'm happy up here, so there's no reason for you to not be as well,' his voice started echoing, as if he was speaking from a great distance.
'Will do…'
Maybe
redemption has stories to tell
maybe forgiveness is right where
you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
He could see a dull red-orange light through his eyelids. He felt oddly disorientated, his arms and legs feeling detached from his body. With a groan, he made his eyes flutter open, regretting it instantly when the white glare from the ceiling lights hit him. His stomach churned and he felt nauseated. Without thinking, he leaned over to the side of his bed and heaved.
Out of nowhere, he found that he was holding an empty bucket in his hands. Not giving it another thought, he vomited out the contents of whatever he ate last. He had never thrown up this badly since his and Fred's last, unfinished (though that did not bother him- on the contrary, he was still proud that they walked out on that foul Umbridge thing) year at Hogwarts, using themselves as lab rats to perfect the Puking Pastilles. Even testing out the Edible Dark Marks they invented, since they only had to try it once.
"Urg, that was horrible," he managed to say feebly. He noticed that the male Healer was standing next to him, looking slightly sick from the sight of well… sick. Giving him a look of disgust, George punched him squarely in the nose. There was a loud crack, and the Healer reeled back, clutching his nose.
"Ow, what the hell?!"
"That's for being a jerk to Hermione," he said grimly, standing up. Another Healer came to him.
"Mr. Weasley, your condition isn't good, you need to go back to bed-"
He snorted, though not unkindly at her bewildered face. "I'm sorry, but I just emptied out
everything that was in my stomach, so there won't be another chance of half-digested food coming out of my mouth. Besides, I've had worse."
Before anyone could protest, he strode outside.
Where
you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here
George shifted his weight to one leg, feeling eyes of blue, green, and brown drill a hole into him. He cleared his throat. Nobody moved.
"Uh, hi?"
He would have been thrown back into the room at the force of his mother's hug if he was not anticipating it; but he was, and he merely staggered before planting his feet firmly on the ground. George let her soak his shirt (which was St. Mungo's clothes, so he did not mind). He tried consoling his mother from her hysterical weeping, only making it worse.
"A little help here?"
His father came over, looking tired and drained. "I'm sorry," George said, feeling the remorse taking over his body. Mr. Weasley placed a warm hand on his boy's shoulder, smiling slightly.
"Never do that again."
I
dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself
up off the floor
George nodded silently, and felt his father squeeze his shoulders. Kissing her son's cheek affectionately, an admittedly wetly, she let her husband lead her away to the Healers to excuse him from the hospital. Ron hurried up to George, Hermione, Harry, and his siblings trailing behind.
When Ron did not say anything, George put on an exaggerated pout and spoke lightly. "Aw, ickle Ronnikins doesn't want to give his oh-so-handsome brother a hug?"
"Shut up," he said, turning red. Charlie pushed past him, speaking in an overly-obnoxious voice.
"I'll give you a hug, my dear brother," and while saying so, he crushed his brother into a hug that could rival his mothers. Bill joined into the cuddle, trying to pick up both of them up. They managed to fall into a heap of bodies on the ground, rolling around and shouting in a brotherly fashion. Ron and Harry exchanged looks before tackling them.
Percy, Hermione, and Ginny stood, watching them. Percy was tutting, and Hermione stood there, worried. "Do you think they'll get hurt?" She asked Ginny. She shrugged, and quickly
threw herself into the group. More laughter rang through the corridor.
"Now, now, get off the floor sweethearts," Mrs. Weasley said fondly. "George, you're discharged."
"Thanks, mother dear," he said, grinning. Everyone stood up, panting slightly with their faces red. Every face, even Hermione and Percy's, had smiles. The atmosphere was bright and cheery, just like it used to be before the war.
I
dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Like
today never happened
Today never happened before
He spotted her sitting by the window, reading a book intently. In fact, she was so engrossed in it that she did not hear him enter the kitchen, nor see him creep upon her.
"Honestly Hermione, I can't believe you find a book more interesting than me."
She gave out a small squeak, the book tumbling from her hands. Seeing George pull up a chair next to her, she put a hand over her chest. "Don't do that," she said a little breathlessly. He smiled mischievously before agreeing.
There was a comfortable, short silence before he spoke. "You know, I never thanked you."
She looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to continue. He let out a breath that he did not know that he was holding, suddenly feeling nervous. "So I'm thanking you. For almost bashing down my door, which by the way, has fallen now after your multiple attacks on it," she blushed, looking apologetic, but not saying anything in fear that he would not continue. "Most importantly, I want to thank you for daring me. Daring me to move… daring me to live."
He was sitting smack next to her now, gazing into her face. She flushed deeply, her eyes darting everywhere except for his face. Gently, almost like a caress, he tenderly cupped her face and eased it upwards. She still refused to meet his eyes.
George chuckled slightly, his face edging closer to hers. "I'm not that bad looking, you know," he said teasingly. Rolling her expressive honey-brown eyes, she finally met his blue ones.
"You'd be surprised," she murmured. Chuckling again, he kissed her fully on the lips as she closed her eyes in contentment.