Disclaimer: I'm too young to be Rowling so there is sadly no way Harry Potter is mine…

Placing: After the war - could be canon…

Just an idea I had, nothing more.

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A VOICE WITHOUT AN ECHO

sSs

There had always been an echo to his voice.

He sat in the dark, in the middle of a hallway in Hogwarts. The hallway was empty. Not empty of humans, because he clearly sat there, and he was human after all; but empty of everything else. There were no portraits in this hallway, no tapestries. There were no carpets and no wallpaper. There was only he. He and his echo.

"What do you wanna do?" he asked his echo. "We have to kill some time."

"Kill sometimes, kill sometimes," the echo suggested.

He laughed and shook his head.

"Not gonna happen," he said.

"Gonna happen," the echo answered determined. "Gonna happen!"

"But Umbitch is gone…" he said and listened to his echo, waited for it to continue his sentence. He expected something akin to "That's so wrong!" or "Let's go torture Ron!" but the only thing he got was: "Gone! Gone!"

And his chest constricted hearing these final, condemning words of wisdom.


sSsSs


There had always been an echo to his voice.

He remembered countless nights in the past, when he simply sat there, in his bed, listening to the echo his words created in the dark.

"I don't wanna sleep," he said.

"Don't wanna, don't wanna," the echo said.

"I don't like the dark," he said.

"I like the dark, I like the dark," the echo said.

"I don't want to be alone," he said.

"Never alone, never alone," the echo said.

And he had felt safe.

He could have been standing in the middle of a bunch of Death Eaters; he could have been facing Voldemort himself; he even could have been standing on the highest mountain while watching the earth beneath his feet to succumb to Armageddon. As long as he could hear the echo of his voice, he would have felt safe.

sSs

There had always been an echo to his voice.

He had listened to it throughout the day. Whatever he said, it repeated. Whatever he started to say, it finished.

"I'm not going to Diagon Alley with Bill! I wanna play pranks!" he said.

"Wanna play pranks!" the echo repeated in a singsong voice. "Wanna play pranks!"

"Hey, Percy, you thief…!" he cried.

"Leave!" his echo said, while he glared at his brother who dared to enter his room in search for his quills (they were carefully hidden behind the drawer, but his brother definitely never needed to know that! He would find some new ones after all and his quills were needed for an important experiment!)

sSs

Year for year he listened to his echo. Whatever it said, he repeated. Whatever it started to say, he finished.

"I want to go to Hogwarts this year!" his echo said.

"This year!" he whined. "This year!"

"Let's create some chaos!" his echo said.

"Let's wreak havoc!" he said.

"There's no way we did that!" his echo cried scandalized when he was found guilty of the missing toilette seat in the second floor girl's bathroom.

"We swear that to our deathbed!" he added.

"That wasn't done well, Forge" his echo grumbled grinning.

"It was done by a master!" he answered indignant.

His echo just scoffed.

"I definitely can do better that that!" it said.

And he had never believed that claim.


sSsSs


But that was a long time ago. Another life time ago.

Now he sat in a pitch black hallway, staring at nothing and at the same time hoping beyond hope that the melted candle next to him would spend another short spark of light to enhance his shadow on the wall.

"I'm lonely," he said. "I'm lonely without you."

There was no echo to his words this time.

And so he sat there, silent, desperately listening for an echo that he would never hear again.


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Fin.

sSsSsSsSsSs

Just some thoughts about how George could react after losing Fred.

I hope you liked it.

Ebenbild