Spoiler Warning!! Turn back now if you haven't finished Deathly Hallows. I mean it!!!
If I owned Harry Potter, Fred Weasley would not be dead and this fanfic would not exist. If I owned Yu-Gi-Oh, Bakura would be pharaoh. So, obviously…
Okay… after sobbing my heart out over Fred (I hate you, JKR.), the realization was come to that, at the very least, Fred's dying gives me a great launching pad for the HP x YGO crossover I've wanted to write. (Yes, it's a crossover, but it makes sense. If you don't like it, kindly go play in traffic) I realize that no good can really come of Weasley twin death, but I'm trying to be optimistic, and since George is never really mentioned after Fred's death… insert maniacal laughter here. X3
Yes, this is technically a YGO fic… I have a hell of a lot of Domino City citizens showing up, and only a couple of wizards. Hence its placement.
Also, just as a warning, there will probably be some non-graphic twincest, because it is cute and it works in the context of this fic. Again, no like, traffic.
So, yeah… really, I was going to write this before, but I couldn't figure out how to make it work. Now it does.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The sounds from the Great Hall were uproarious. Triumphant cheering filled the ground level of the school, echoing throughout the main hallway. The noise reached even into one of the smaller classrooms towards the back of the school, where George Weasley currently sat, his twin brother's head in his lap and his eyes filled with tears.
Slowly, George looked down at his twin, down at the face that had always grinned at him, down at the arms that would always drape over his shoulders, the legs that would always run with him to avoid punishment for some stupid prank…
Never again.
Because Fred's face was empty. His arms and legs were cold and stiff.
Fred was gone. Lost. Passed on.
Dead.
George had known the instant it happened. He felt a pain in his chest, such an intense, brutalizing agony, he thought his heart had been ripped out. And then he knew. And the screaming started, terrified, anguished, tortured screams, a wordless, unending sound of absolute despair. Screams that George hadn't realized were coming from his own throat.
He had run to Fred, screaming, sobbing, pleading with whatever gods would listen to please undo it, to let it be a bad dream, to make his beloved brother wake up, to make it not real.
But it was real.
Fred didn't wake up, didn't open his eyes and grin in that way that made George's heart leap, didn't laugh and say it was all a joke.
He couldn't.
Fred was dead.
George was quiet now, silently crying in the empty classroom that he had brought Fred's body to. The other victims of the war lay in the Great Hall, some George's closest friends, but he had left them all where they lay. Only Fred mattered.
His mother had tried to stop him, but she saw the emptiness in George's eyes, and permitted him to take his fallen twin somewhere private, somewhere away from all the noise and the triumph.
The triumph didn't matter. Who cared if Voldemort had been finally vanquished? None of it mattered.
Fred was dead.
They were supposed to stay together. Hadn't they promised?
The words played on an endless loop.
Fred was dead. Fred was dead. Fred was dead. Fred was dead.
Fredwasdeadfredwasdeadfredwasdeadfredwasdeadfredwasdeadfredwasdead…
"No."
The word spilled from George's lips, barely a whisper. So quiet he wasn't sure he'd spoken aloud.
"No."
Louder, stronger now. George looked up, eyes still pained and glistening, but with a spark of determination.
"No. I refuse to accept this. I cannot accept this."
Yes, they'd promised. And if Fred couldn't do anything to keep it, then George would.
He looked down at his twin again, so peaceful looking. George gently brushed a strand of brilliant red hair out of Fred's face.
"I'll find a way."
He had to. He couldn't live without the other half of his soul.
"I will never stop searching."
It was impossible to bring someone back from the dead. Everyone in the wizarding world knew that. But there were other types of magic in the world… there had to be something. There had to be.
"I will find a way to bring you back to me."
It was impossible to bring someone back from the dead.
But the Weasley twins had always defied impossible.
"No matter how long it takes."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
R&R, yo. More to come soon.