My entry to The Tribute To Fred Weasley Competition, hosted by s t a r l i t illumination.
simple thing, where have you gone?
Fred Weasley's Priorities
1. Family: Family is very important to me. We all have the same hair and I love them all. Even Percy Big-head Boy. Most of the time.
2. Friends: Friends are like family, except without the blood in common. Especially those going by the names of Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnston, Oliver Wood, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet.
3. Pranks: It is important to keep a positive frame of mind and what better way to cheer other people up than with pranks? The best pranks are always the simple classics like Dungbombs, levitation and explosions. My partners-in-pranking are George and Lee.
4. Love: Now, a man like me has no trouble with the ladies. But love is very important, it's worth fighting for and it's something we have that You-Know-Who doesn't. Love is bloody brilliant.
She looks at the piece of parchment, the words etched by warm, strong hand into the material, the ink running where tears have landed since…since he left.
He holds - held - love fourth on a list of four priorities. He's always been - always was - never one for grand romantic gestures and epic tales of romance. The most romantic thing he ever did with her was hit her with a paper aeroplane, on which was written Be my partner-in-crime? Coming from him, that was almost a proposal.
She pulls a crumpled photograph from her pocket. The photographer boy was following couples around all night, snapping photographs of them in compromising positions. She's kept this photo close to her for three years, like a lucky charm. It's a moving photograph, like all magical cameras produce, and she had to pay the kid a few Galleons for him to hand it over.
It showed her dancing with him at the Yule Ball. The paper was slightly faded from all the times she spent many minutes contemplating the scene and dark stains proclaimed to the world the number of times she'd cried over him.
She still can't believe that he's gone and he's never coming back. He appears in front of her every times she closes her eyes, his smile and freckles and glinting eyes.
They always said they'd do everything and they'd never need anyone but each other. He swore he'd love her for ever and tell her every day. Admittedly, he was drinking Firewhisky and getting sentimental when he said that, but he said it, and that's what counts.
They had their secret place, a secluded spot behind the shop. He conjured bright flowers and they sat out there in all weather, talking and laughing and kissing. Those were the perfect times, where they could be alone in a place no one else knew and love each other.
His epitaph is currently being debated by his family. Whatever they decide on, she hopes they remember to include everything about him, how bright his hair was, the mischievous glint in his blue eyes, the freckles they once played dot-to-dot with, his smile, his sweet nature and the way his kisses felt and how he always smelt like peppermint.
She stands up and Apparates to Diagon Alley, finding their shop and speaking the password to the wards protecting the door that leads to their favourite place. She looks at the photo to avoid the sight of their paradise without its essential ingredient. She watches their photographic selves dancing the night away, another tear staining the photograph as she watches Fred spin her under his arm and kiss her.
She looks up and a sob escapes her as she sees how paradise had died with Fred. The flowers no longer bloom, the floor carpeted with wilting petals and even the sun seems to be leaving the place undisturbed.
She falls to her knees, lifting handfuls of the petals and scattering them, the tears falling thick and fast. The flowers were so beautiful, knocked down in their prime. Like Fred.
Her tears fall on the grey concrete and she curls up, her arms around her knees and her face buried in her hands. How will she ever move on?
/sniff/
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