Another one-shot, this time about the twins. I cried my heart out when I realised that Fred was really dead, not just because he was dead, but because George had to move on.

Disclaimer: Yet again, I own nothing

They had talked about it, of course. Even they could be serious. They had talked, right after the Ministry had announced that Voldemort was back. They had known that already, but the panic that had broken out somehow justified the conversation

"Do you ever think about it?" George started the conversation, and that wasn't surprising, really.

"Think about what?" Fred replied, sitting down on his bed. His tone had been casual.

"Death."

"How can I not? With You-Know-Who back, people'll be dying right, left and centre."

"You know what I mean," George continued solemnly, "Our death."

"What about it?"

George would've shaken his head in frustration, but he knew his twin understood him, he just didn't want to admit it.

"You know what I mean, Fred."

Fred sighed resignedly: "Yes, I do."

"And…?" George prompted.

"You mean that we're going to die."

"Yes."

"Does it scare you?"

"I'm not sure. I don't want to die, not yet, but we're going to, aren't we?"

Fred looked up abruptly: "we're not going to die in this war!"

"That's not what I meant. Well, we could die in the war, no one's really safe, but I was just thinking about how we will die, one day."

"Very true."

"It's not like we can do anything about it, you know," George went on, "We will die, it's a fact. The only thing we're sure of in life…"

"… Is death."

"Exactly."

"Does it scare you?" Fred asked again.

"Does it scare you?"

"Just the fact that it's inevitable. The most important thing in our lives is out of our control. We have absolutely nothing to say in the matter."

Now both twins were silent. Fred was right, George decided. Death was inevitable. The realisation caused him to squirm uncomfortably. He couldn't really fathom it, but he knew he was going to die, and so was Fred.

"Do you think we'll die together?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

Fred just shook his head: "One of us is going to live longer than the other."

"So what happens then?"

"No idea."

"Promise me one thing, will you?"

"What?"

"That, and this is going to sound very clichéd, when one of us dies, the other continues living. Really living."

Fred laughed softly: "You're right, it is clichéd."

"Do you promise, though?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Are you that worried about me?"

"I'm worried about us. We both know we've never actually been separated. I'm afraid what the consequences will be when that day comes"

T o anyone else, it might have sounded as if the twins overestimated their bond, but they both knew it was true.

"Do you promise?" Fred asked, "Do you promise you'll continue living if I were to die?"

"I promise."

The conversation had taken place almost two years ago, but as George stood in front of the grave of his brother, he could remember every word with astounding clarity. Fred would've wanted him to live on, but only now did he realise how difficult that would be. When they had talked about them dying, they had unconsciously imagined that they were going to be old when the first of them died. They had thought they had years and years before them. They had been so wrong.

Was that human, George wondered, thinking you are invulnerable? They had seen many people die, and yet they had always assumed they would both make it.

But that wasn't true either, he realised. They had known they could die during the war. But for some reason, despite all their promises, they hadn't expected to die separately. They had thought they would die in the same battle, or at least in the same war. But here he was, still alive, and it felt all wrong.

The headstone read 'Fred Weasley', and that was weird, 'cause every time they had done something official, it had been: 'Fred and George Weasley'.

They were separated now. Separated by the one thing that was inevitable. And George was still scared of the inevitability of death, 'cause he still couldn't control it, and there was no guarantee that he would see Fred again if he died. He wanted to believe Heaven existed, but what if it didn't?

He could only go on living. He had promised, after all.

They had promised. That promise was still binding.

A/N: This was actually inspired by the fact that I realised tonight that one day, I actually would die. Not the first time I realised that, but still a very weird feeling.