Hey, I was browsing and I found a piece of fan art that inspired this fic, I cried a lot when I thought of it and while writing it, couldn't see the keyboard properly! For one of the most heart wrenching moments in the history of literature is the loss of Fred Weasley. I don't think I've done it justice really, as I cant begin to pretend how it feels to lose a twin.
'The happiest man on earth would be able to use the mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is.' Albus Dumbledore
Facing the day was unbearable. Just to open his eyes would remind him of what had happened, and how he was alone in the world, so he lay in the dark with his eyes tight shut, trying to will himself to believe that it was all a nightmare. George had never been alone; he was always one of a pair. Fred and George, Fred always first because he was three minutes older. They had always shared everything; they were two halves of one whole, and how do you survive with half a soul?
If Fred had been here, George would have made some over-the-line joke about Voldemort at this point for his benefit, and been whacked around the head by their mum. An odd mix of humour and grief rose up inside him and George screwed his eyes tighter shut to stop tears from falling.
He couldn't deal with the world, every time he saw a mirror, a window, a pool of water, he saw his twin staring back at him, in some inaccessible parallel universe that he couldn't ever get to. He was left behind, staring with longing desperation, wishing that in some miraculous way he could reverse the events that had happened, and there was nothing that could save him from the pain he was drowning in.
The family had tried to carry on, and everyone did a very good job. The Weasley's were never a family to sit around feeling sorry for themselves, but now his own mother struggled to look him in the eye, and every time he walked into the room he noticed the small sharp intakes of breath that they took, as if waiting for Fred to walk in behind him, and then being desperately disappointed when there was only one of the pair.
He had thought more than once about giving up altogether, but every time the thought occurred to him, he heard Fred's voice.
'Come off it, mate! I wasn't that brilliant! Ok, I was, but if you end up here decades too early I'm going to call you a pathetic wimp for the rest of eternity.'
The odd feeling of humour and grief rose up inside him again and he couldn't fight it. He buried his head in his pillow and let the mourning sadness wash over him. Everything felt so hopeless. He was a broken mess that couldn't be fixed, and he didn't see how this unfulfilled, empty feeling would ever go away. Everything he had ever done had been with his best friend, his partner in crime, literally his other half, and he couldn't deal with it alone, it was more than he could stand.
Fred's voice echoed in his head again,
'Pull yourself together! Who is going to help students wreak havoc at Hogwarts if you're in bed crying all day rather than selling skiving snackboxes! You need to pass the torch, mate; the future of trouble makers at Hogwarts is on your shoulders!'
The thought of his voice steeled him with resolute purpose, and he somehow drew upon strength he never knew he had. He supposed it was strength that Fred had in some way given him, because however distant he was, there was still a connection between them that couldn't be broken, even in death.
George wiped his eyes, rolled out of bed, and turned on the light. He turned towards the large mirror on the back of his bedroom door, showing him something he wanted more than anything else in the world.
The boy in the mirror was identical to him. The same height, the same eyes, the same impish, freckled face, yet there was something unbelievably different about him. He did not have the carefree, mischievous posture that George had come to know so well, he now looked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. The light was distinctly missing from his red puffy eyes, and the playful signature grin that he always wore had been lost.
When Dumbledore explained the mirror of Erised, he forgot about Fred and George Weasley, for when George sees his reflection standing by his side, he has everything he could ever want.