Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Rise of the Guardians. But does anyone else ever wonder if the various owners are out there reading all these fanfictions?
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Fred opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the bright glow of moonlight that seeped between the cracks of his eyelids. His head felt dizzyingly light and the world swayed dangerously as it gradually came into focus. Surprise struck him as it did; he was home, at the Burrow. He could have sworn he was at Hogwarts, fighting You-Know-Who's army of uglies. The details of the battle were fuzzy, easily escaping his sluggish mind, but if he was home then surely they won. Must have gotten himself knocked out, though he didn't understand why they'd left him outside.
"Fred."
He turned at the voice, smiling and rising to his feet as his twin approached. "Hiya, Georgie. Miss me?"
For some reason, George did not answer. He didn't even look at him. He just kept walking, stopping by a small rock. He looked up at the moon, his face serious. Not just serious; solemn. Fred found that somewhat disconcerting. Even in the worst of it, he and George had taken everything with a smile and a joke. "George?"
Still George did not acknowledge him, continuing to stare up into the night sky. He sighed, rubbing his neck, and his gaze dropped to the rock before snapping back to the moon. "Happy birthday, Fred."
"What? It's not our birthday." At least, he didn't think it was. But there was no telling how long he'd been unconscious. The weather did seem warmer. He stepped up beside his brother, reaching out to grab his shoulder. "George, are you-" He froze as his hand passed through his twin, staring at his fingers in disbelief. Once more he grabbed and once more he went through flesh unnoticed. "George, this isn't funny. Look at me."
George turned around then, and Fred felt his heart lift. It was just a joke after all. Just as quickly, it crashed back down to his toes as George looked back at the little rock one more time. "We miss you, Fred."
"I'm right here!" Fred moved in front of his twin, backpedalling and waving his arms frantically. "Right in front of you. LOOK AT ME!" He stopped, raising his hands to halt his brother. Instead, George walked through him, leaving a cold pain that started in his stomach and radiated out through his body. It was worse than walking through a ghost. "George?" he questioned weakly, watching his brother's retreating back.
"He can't see you. He doesn't believe."
Fred whirled around, finding the speaker with a mix of apprehension and desperation. His eyes lighted on a skinny kid leaning on a staff, looking at him sadly. He looked to be about Ron's age, though his hair was as white as an old man's. "You can see me?" The teen nodded, face screwing into an expression that was somewhere between pain and sympathy. It made him look like he'd swallowed something sour and unpleasant. "Who're you?"
"I'm Jack. I'm a spirit…like you."
"A what?" A tendril of fear snaked over Fred and he hoped he'd misheard.
"Spirit."
Nope. His hearing was fine. "A spirit? Are you saying I'm a ghost?"
Jack shook his head, pale hair flopping with the motion. "More so than most spirits, but no. Ghosts are dead. Forever. Spirits are technically still living. Or, like you and me, resurrected and given new life."
Fred sputtered and took a step backwards, as if he could exit the space the words had occupied and they'd cease to exist. "I'm not dead," he protested. "I can't be. I'm right here."
"Only to spirits and believers. You died at the castle, Fred. Three months ago."
Fred shook his head, refusing to believe. He couldn't be dead. He didn't feel any different than he had before, and he was certain dying would have had some effect on him. Especially if he were killed in combat. "You're lying," he spat at the so-called spirit, turning on his heel. He broke into a frantic run, eyes on the Burrow. He wasn't dead. George was playing some sort of joke, but somebody would acknowledge him. Mum or Ron or Ginny. Somebody.
Anybody.
He vaulted over the low stone wall into the garden, looking around for anyone, spotting two figures sitting in the shadows. He moved towards them, surprised to find Ron wrapped up in Hermione's arms, his head on her shoulder. There was none of the awkward scrambling to pretend nothing was happening as he approached. "Finally caught on that we all know you two fancy each other, have you?"
He got no response, so he moved closer, noticing that the pair looked very sad. Hermione's fingers were working through Ron's hair soothingly and his youngest brother's hands were closed around a small box tied up with a ribbon. "I got it for him when I was trying to catch up with you and Harry. Went hungry a few days, too." Fred couldn't help a small smile; for Ron, that was a tremendous sacrifice. "Tried giving it to George, but he said he didn't want it. He hasn't been himself lately. George, I mean." Hermione nodded, shifting to squeeze Ron in an embrace.
Fred felt fairly awkward standing there, clearly not noticed. A heavy dread settled in his chest, his head starting to come to terms with the fact that Jack had been speaking the truth. He really was dead. Acceptance hit him like a Bludger and he sat next to the young couple, flinching as his arm passed through Ron's. He stared ahead dumbly, only moving when the pair rose and moved into the house. He watched them go, his gaze dropping to the bench once they were gone. The little box sat abandoned.
"You might as well take it. It's technically yours."
He grabbed the box uncertainly, glancing up. Jack was perched on the roof of the Burrow, knees tucked to his chest. Fred hadn't heard him approach or climb onto the roof, but then again, he was a spirit. Going unnoticed was part of the gig, right?
"Why me?" he questioned softly.
"MiM saw something special in you," the spirit answered, gesturing at the moon. "Normally he just picks you, gives you a name, and leaves you to fend for yourself." This was said with some bitterness in his tone, though Jack's face remained expressionless.
"Then why are you here?"
"Uh…regime change. Sorta." Jack shoved a pale hand in the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out a scroll of parchment. Unrolling it, he floated down to earth, coming to stand in front of Fred. "If you laugh," he warned, "I'll freeze you until the next century." Frost curled across the ground, backing his threat and he glared suspiciously for a minute before beginning to read.
"'Frederick Helquinus Weasley, hereon to be named 'Harlequin', is charged by Tsar Lunar, elsewise known as The Man in the Moon, to spread joy amongst the children of the world in a matter fitting his new station as the April Fool and a spirit of mischief. Upon acceptance of this appointment, the above mentioned Frederick Helquinus Weasley swears to complete this task to the best of his ability for the remainder of his immortal life, swears to protect the children in his charge, and swears an oath of fealty to Tsar Lunar, knowing that he may be called on at any time to defend either the illustrious MiM or the children of the world.'"
The spirit paused, glancing over the parchment at Fred. "Do you accept?"
"Do I have a choice?"
Jack nodded. "If you decline, though, you go back to being dead. No ghost option, either."
Fred thought for a minute, gaze drifting to the building that housed his family and friends. "And if I can get them to believe, they'll see me? I'll be able to talk to them?" Again Jack nodded. After another moment of contemplation, Fred mimicked the action. "Then yes, I accept."
Jack gave a small smile before rolling his eyes and dropping them back to the scroll, resuming his recital. He clearly did not like the pomp of it all. "'In addition to his appointment as the April Fool, the newly-born 'Harlequin' shall have conferred onto him by one Jackson Overland Frost; the Prince of Winter, Elemental Spirit of Snow, Shepherd of the North Wind, and a Guardian of Childhood; the Jester's Crown and will be named, from this day onwards, as the new Prince of Pranks.'" A whoosh of breath followed this, and Jack shoved the scroll back into his pocket without ceremony. He nested his staff under his arm and held his hands out in front of him, calling a thin circlet into existence with a surge of blue light. He then held it out almost lazily.
Fred took it cautiously. It looked rather unremarkable; just a hoop of dull metal. Jester's Crown indeed. More like the Jester's Headband.
"Well, put it on."
The redhead complied, shivering as a wave of magic washed over him.
"Cool." There was a note of humor in Jack's voice, but it was nonetheless sincere. "I've been wondering what it looked like for three centuries."
There was a crackling and Fred looked up to see a circle of ice hovering in front of him. A checkerboard face was on it and it took him a minute to realize it was his own reflection. The circlet had morphed, becoming a wooden half-mask that hid his upper face and a jester's hat adorned with bells. It was a somewhat ridiculous look, but Fred thought he worked it rather well. "Cool," he echoed, grinning widely for the first time since waking up.
The ice mirror vanished in an explosion of snow and the bright moon dimmed a bit, pulling up a thin curtain of wispy clouds. Fred glanced at it, then at Jack. The boy looked a little distracted now that the coronation was over, staring off to the north. "What…what do I do now?" Fred asked hesitantly.
"Protect people and make them laugh. Like you've always done." Jack held out a spindly hand, smiling when Fred shook it. "Good luck, Harlequin. If you ever need anything, just ask the wind to find me." He rose into the sky, pausing a few feet up. "Oh, and don't forget you have to work on April Fool's Day."
With a roar of wind and a flurry of snow, Jack vanished into the night. Fred watched him go and left the garden, walking down the hill towards Ottery St. Catchpole, passing his tombstone as he went. Before it was completely out of sight, he cast a final longing gaze at the Burrow.
"Don't forget me."
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A/N: You know the drill: leave a review telling me what you think. Pretty please. Hope you all found this a refreshing addition to the RotG/HP crossover-verse. Should I continue? Or leave this as it is, since it technically can stand alone?