Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
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Alicia knew. They all knew. It wasn't exactly a well-kept secret. They were too close, even for brothers, even for twins. There was something about them that had always felt vaguely forbidden, like the way Fred would jump, laughing, onto George's back on their way down to Zonko's Joke Shop, or how George would fall asleep on Fred's lap on the train ride home from Hogwarts.

For some reason, it never seemed strange on them. Forbidden, maybe, but not surprising. It was like they were the same person, really, sharing the same soul in two different bodies, and isn't that what soulmate is, by definition? It wasn't as if they avoided girls, though Alicia always noticed that Fred seemed more into the whole 'dating scene' than his twin. Angelina had been Fred's, so it was only natural that George went for Alicia. She was Angelina's best friend, after all. The only way it could've been any more predictable is if Fred had fallen for one of the Patil girls.

They never dated, per se. It was more for appearances than anything else, and after being on the Quiddich team together for six years, they were all four quite comfortable with each other. The girls had no disillusions of their relationships, but they played along, walking with them when they offered and responding shyly to their winks and wolf whistles during practice.

When they left Hogwarts for the last time, Fred had looked back and blew Angelina an exaggerated kiss, to which she rolled her eyes. George had simply glanced back at Alicia and smiled. Alicia smiled back and waved as they disappeared over the horizon.

As they waited for Harry in the Room of Requirement, Alicia saw George entwine his fingers with Fred's. She doubted anyone else—besides Angelina, at least—noticed, and she turned her own eyes away, giving them the illusion of the privacy they obviously wanted. They looked serious, for once, and George looked desperately pale.

When Harry arrived and they started filing out the door, Alicia looked back to see George grab his twin's arm. A few words were exchanged, and then they both stood aside, watching the others leave. Angelina, who had been walking beside her, stopped when she noticed Alicia go slightly tense. She followed her eyes before tugging gently at her sleeve. "C'mon, Alicia. They just want a little privacy. They'll meet up with us later." Alicia shook her head, knowing something was wrong. There was more to it than that, but she followed Angelina wordlessly out the door.

Angelina had wanted to fight, so Alicia decided to stay and help the injured. She watched the doors adamantly for her closest friend as she mended broken bones and bleeding gashes. She didn't really expect her to get hurt, but if the war had taught her anything, she mused, as she looked down at the bodies of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin; it was that anything could happen.

And yet nothing prepared her for who Percy Weasley carried into the Great Hall. At first she couldn't tell which boy it was, but at closer inspection she noticed two ears. Fred. She clapped a hand to her mouth with sick realization. Where was George? Who could possibly break it to George that his second half was…

But before she could even finish her thought, George entered the hall. He didn't seem to be cognizant as what was going on around him. He simply walked forward and found his brother, standing over him blankly before falling to his knees. Percy put a hand on his shoulder, but George didn't acknowledge it, and Percy pulled away as if he'd been shocked. He stood beside his younger brother for a moment, and then walked away, undoubtedly giving him a moment alone with his twin while he found the rest of the Weasleys.

She knew no one would ever understand the pain he was going through as he kneeled frozen at his brother's head. It seemed like hours that he sat there. The rest of his family eventually arrived around him, but he took no notice of them. He wasn't moving. He wasn't blinking. From where Alicia stood, it was hard to tell if he was even breathing.

It wasn't until Madame Pomfrey tried to move Fred that he reacted at all. "What're you doing?" Alicia saw his lips move to form the words, but it was still hard to believe it was he who had spoken them. The laughter that had always hidden mischievously behind his words had disappeared completely. His voice was shrill, but empty; the pained scream of a man whose soul had been ripped cleanly from his body.

"No," he shouted, throwing himself on top of his deceased twin as Madame Pomfrey tried again to carry him away, "No, don't touch him! He's not—he's not!" Alicia felt tears sting at her eyes as Arthur pried his son away, George thrashing helplessly against him. "Please, no! You can't do this! DON'T DO THIS TO ME! LET GO!" Arthur sobbed softly into George's shoulder as he struggled to free himself, screaming hysterically after the body being carried away in Madame Pomfrey's arms.

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME ALONE LIKE THIS! FRED! GODDAMNIT, LET GO OF ME!" Alicia covered her ears, the tears streaming readily down her face by then. She watched as Arthur released him and George ran clumsily to the door before collapsing, his face dropping into his hands. Without realizing it, Alicia ran towards him, stopping short a few feet, hesitating suddenly at the unbearable sight in front of her.

She had never even seen George frown before. The sobs currently shaking through his body seemed impossible to grasp. It wasn't her place to be here. She couldn't comfort him. She would never mean as much to him as Fred had, she knew that. He didn't even seem to notice her presence. "Please…" George whispered through his fingers, and Alicia felt a shiver run down her spine at the vulnerability in his voice. "Please don't leave me alone…"

She reached out to touch his shoulder, but the image of Percy backing away flashed through her mind and her arm dropped to her side. There was nothing she could do. Fred Weasley was dead. And with him, he had taken George.

It was two years before Alicia saw George again. He came to her door around three one morning, dark circles under his eyes and his skin sallow. At first glance she thought he may have been drinking, but he was simply broken. "George…" She murmured, her voice raspy from being startled into wakefulness so late at night. "George, Jesus Christ, how are you?" She tried to say it in a way that portrayed how honestly she wanted to know. While it was true she didn't allow herself to be fooled by the way he acted around her, it didn't change the fact that she had loved him unconditionally since the year they met.

George shook his head, a sad, forced smile on his face. "Please don't ask me that question, Alicia." His voice had never returned to the way it had been when Fred was alive. It sounded as if he hadn't so much as chuckled since his death. Alicia felt a pang in her heart. He didn't say anything for a moment, and then he said sullenly, "I'm sorry about Angelina. I was never really in a state to tell you how sorry I was, but…" his voice trailed off and his face seemed—if it were possible—to turn paler.

Anxious, Alicia threw her arms around George's neck, shaking her head. "No one blames you, George." George seemed startled by the contact, and for a moment he stood rigidly in Alicia's hold. His breathing was ragged, and he placed his hands uncertainly on Alicia's shoulders, contemplating pushing her away. But after a moment, he let his arms wrap around her, and Alicia felt hot, silent tears against her neck.

It happened too fast, and both of them knew it was a mistake, but George was desperate for anything to fill the hole his brother had left in his heart, and Alicia was willing to give him everything she had. She knew that no matter how much that was, she could never completely heal him, but she could be okay with that if he was. And for the time being, he was.

It was awkward, uncomfortable, and obvious that George had never been the dominant one in his relationship with his brother, but it was something they both needed, however unhealthy the reasons were. Alicia could taste tears sliding into her mouth as he kissed her, but when she reached up to brush them away he broke the kiss and dropped his head onto her shoulder, his hair falling like a veil over his face.

There were no words exchanged, but when he came, he called for the one he'd lost, his voice soft, yet somehow echoed off the walls and vibrated through Alicia's bones. Alicia felt the tears return familiarly to her eyes as she realized she had lied to herself all this time. She had been hoping outlandishly that maybe there was some way she could take the place of the one irreplaceable person in George's life.

But she had failed.

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A/N: Even that little smidgen of het totally thows me off. God, how I wish I could write het better. D: Anyway, this story is ridiculously unbeta'd and badly written, I know, but I honestly couldn't sleep until I got it done and up here, and its currently 3:42am and I have a 9:30am class tomorrow. Bah. The ONE day I have an early class...but, I digress. I wonder. Are you guys getting tired of my insufferable mourning of Fred Weasley? I mean, what is this, the ninth, tenth story?

Okay, sorry, I'll shut up. I haven't slept in a while, and I get ramble-y when I don't sleep.