George Weasley sat on the floor in the cellar of his home, a hodgepodge of photo albums laid out in front of him. He was having another one of his self-dubbed "moments." And though he was slightly embarrassed by them, only slightly, he figured he had the right to a few "moments" every now and again. His twin had died just over six months ago, and now was to be the start of a brand new year. A year that his brother wouldn't even get a chance to be a part of.
He'd been dreading this day more than anything for about the past month, ever since his family had started to talk about Christmas. He knew there would be presents crowded around the tree and none of them would have Fred's name. And then the year would start, and it would be a new beginning for everyone. Everyone except for Fred. He couldn't help counting the days it had been since a part of him had been lost. Any time he did anything, he couldn't help remembering the time he did those same things with someone almost always by his side.
He looked down at the photo books, and a single tear ran down his cheek. It wasn't fair. These pictures, they made George miss his brother, his best friend, more than ever. The first one his eyes fell upon was one of Ron, about five years old, clutching his raggedy old teddy bear. A small, wry smile crossed his face. He couldn't help remembering.
"Come on, George. You know it'll be funny," Fred said, a mischievous look in his eyes. Both boys were seven years old.
"But how are you even gonna do it, Fred? You can't do magic!" he said, stating the obvious, but the point had to be made
"That's where you come in. I come up with the plans, you figure them out. Come on, don't be a chicken!"
It was a challenge, and at this age, being called a chicken was right up there with buttface. Pretty severe. Fred knew neither one of them could back down to a challenge, even at this young age. With anticipation in his voice, he said, "Fine. I think I've got an idea. Here's what we gotta do..."
And so it began. That was their first real prank ever. It hadn't even been that complex (they were seven, after all), but it had been good. Take Ron's teddy bear, substitute it for a spider while he was sleeping, and presto! Permanently traumatized Ron. And from there, they were hooked.
It wasn't even the traumatized person that made the pranks part of their lifestyle, their trademark. It was the challenge, the thrill, and mostly, the laughter. They lived for laughter. And now, laughter was very scarce. He missed it, sometimes. But it had left with Fred, Tonks, Remus, and the others.
He flipped the page of the photo album and glanced at the pictures. He had been far too young to die. There should have been pictures of him at his wedding, with his kids, with his grandkids, even. He'd been so close to having all of it. They'd actually been planning to propose to Katie and Angelina together, and have a double wedding. But it hadn't happened.
"We should ask Katie and Angelina. Together. How cool would that be?" Fred mused late one night in their flat, peeling an orange.
"Ask them what?" he had asked, figuring it to be another one of Fred's ideas that was far-fetched, out of reach. Fred was the creative brains of their operation. He would come up with the majority of the ideas for the shop, or for pranks, and George would figure out how to make them happen, or else let Fred down easy.
"To marry us, smart one. You are planning on asking Angelina, aren't you?"
That was a good question. He loved Angelina. But was he ready to propose to her? He'd thought about it, but had always postponed it. "Probably," he responded, sliding into the chair across from his brother.
"We should, then! It'd help calm the nerves, plus it'd be romantic or something, I guess. It's a great time to do it, too. We could kick the bucket tomorrow, and we'd regret not having asked them before it was too late. I'm serious, George!" He was excited about this; that was obvious.
George sighed. "I'm not sure if I'm even ready to do this yet."
"Mate, you've been dating Angelina for a good two years. You must love her."
"I course I do!" George said defensively.
"Well, then, what's the problem?" he asked.
"I just don't want her to think I'm popping the question because… because I'm afraid. That I'm asking her because I wanted to get married before I went to battle, because it was on my life To Do list, and I wanted it checked before I left." He hadn't realized that that was what he'd been worried about the whole time. That she'd think she meant nothing to him, that she would think that he thought that she was just another one of his toys, his pranks, something he didn't take seriously.
Fred thought about this for a second. He seemed to realize that that there was a time to be light-hearted and a time to be serious, and George needed him to be serious right then. "George, Angelina would never think that you'd do that. She knows you love her. She knows. And she knows you well enough to know that you wouldn't play her like that. All she'll be feeling is complete elation that she got such a handsome, worthy young lad as her husband."
George took a deep breath. He wanted to marry Angelina, he realized that now. Fred was right. He grinned; a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. "Well, I suppose we'll be needing rings…."
At this, Fred grinned wider than he'd seen him smile in months. He walked around the table and gave his brother a huge bear hug. "Thank you, George," he said. "You're the best twin I could ever hope for. I couldn't do this alone."
George smiled back at him stupidly. "Don't worry, Fred. You won't need to."
However, they had been planning to propose to them on the first of June. The battle occurred in May. They both had rings already. They were already nervous, planning where they were going to do it. But it never happened. George had given Katie the ring that was supposed to be hers after the battle, hoping it might be a consolation, to show that Fred really had loved her. Ginny had told him that she wore it every day. That tore him apart.
At the funeral, he'd asked Angelina. Somehow, he'd known Fred would have wanted him to. It was hard; he'd started crying somewhere in the middle. But Angelina understood. Angelina always understood. She even understood now, going to her mum's for a little while before they headed to Harry and Ginny's, giving him some space to mourn. And he was grateful.
Everything was surreal. He was at his brother's funeral. His twin's funeral. That wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to either of them. Plus, he couldn't stop crying. And the service hadn't even started yet.
Suddenly, in his head, almost as though he'd merely thought it, a voice said, "Oh, come off it. Stop being a prat and give it to her. There's nothing to wait for anymore." It was in a voice so like his own, but it wasn't his. If he'd imagined it or if it was really there, he wasn't sure. But either way, his brother was still there, helping him even from beyond the grave, even if he was making it so.
He walked over to Angelina, who was obviously looking for him, and smiled sadly at her. Once she saw him, she ran to him and embraced him around the neck. Whispering into his ear, she said, "George, George, I'm so sorry. I know how terrible this must be for you."
He nodded, and kissed her gently. Then, he smiled, only slightly. He was crying, too, but he couldn't help that. He looked her in the eyes, and slowly got down onto one knee. He took the box out of his pocket, and said, "Angelina. Angie, will you marry me?" After he finished his sentence, he opened it on its hinges, and inside was a diamond ring.
It was apparent that this was just about the last thing that she had ever been expecting him to do. She put her hands over her mouth, and looked down at him, tears forming in her eyes. "George," she asked slowly. "Are you sure this is right? Maybe you should wait until you're…."
But he shook his head. "No. This is what Fred would have wanted. Really and truly it is. We were planning on proposing to you and Katie both…together. But now I know he wouldn't want me to wait. We only get so much time before things we love are taken away. Please, Angie? Will you marry me?" He was pained saying this, but it needed to be said.
She was crying now as well, but she nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course."
He was sobbing now, and he got up and embraced her. "Angelina," she sobbed, "I don't think I can do this alone."
She hugged him tighter. "You don't have to."
Her statement only made him sob harder.
Suddenly, he realized he was actually sobbing now. God, did he miss him. When he and Angelina got married, he'd asked Lee Jordan to be his substitute best man, because they all knew who it would have been had he been alive.
The word substitute stuck in his mind suddenly before it struck him why. Just because Fred couldn't live his life didn't mean George couldn't. Sitting here, acting pathetic, it wouldn't help anybody. Not Fred, not Angelina, not his family. Not even himself.
He wasn't helping anyone.
He got up and began to go through the shelves lining the walls, pulling out boxes and setting them on the floor. He felt free. Suddenly, before he'd even realized that any time had passed, Angelina was there. Apparently, he'd used up his time that she was to be spending with her mum.
"George," Angelina said quietly, afraid that he'd finally snapped. "George, what is it? Are you alright?"
He smiled at her, a genuine smile. "I'm great. It's New Year's Eve. I think the Weasley clan could use some cheering up. I miss the sound of laughter sometimes, you know?" Angelina blinked once, and then smiled back at him. It was apparent in her eyes: she knew George, the George that she'd fallen in love with, was back to stay.
He would live his life, he thought, grabbing yet another box of dragon wet-start fireworks and handing them to Angelina. If only for him. If only because his brother hadn't had his chance.