Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Written For; Quidditch League
Beater 2, Holyhead Harpies.
Mandatory - Write a story that takes place in the sky or somewhere that houses broom equipment
Optional Prompts - Charlie Weasley / Proof / Ancient.
Also written for Hogwarts Assignment 11, Careers Advice, Prompt 4 - Charlie Weasley.
Word count - 1018
Not Fast Enough
The sky was clear of clouds, the sun beating down overhead. They flew over fields and meadows, having mini races as they went. It was so freeing to be out in the open where nobody could see them.
It wasn't often they got chance to come out this far; their mum had always put a stop to it when they were younger, and by the time they'd graduated, the war was on the horizon and their efforts were required elsewhere.
Not to mention how busy they'd been with the shop.
George looped in the air, hearing a whoop from his brother behind him. He laughed loudly, calling to Fred to follow him as he looped and twisted and turned.
After so long in hiding, this felt wonderful.
The war was over. Harry had fulfilled his destiny and they were free to live their lives in a time of peace.
Nothing could be better.
"We should've nicked Charlie's old practise Snitch from his room," George commented, slowing his broom down.
"You know what he's like about that Snitch," Fred laughed. "He'd have had a coronary."
George snorted. "It's ancient anyway. We'd probably be able to outfly it on our old Cleansweeps by now."
Diving down, George let his feet skim over the long blades of grass.
"I missed this. It's been far too long since we've been able to just be us," he said as he pulled up. "And with Percy being home again…"
Fred chuckled. "He's probably waiting for us to prank him. He's gotta know that we've got something in the wings for him. Soon as Mum lets up a bit."
George laughed. "Of course. He did get twelve N.E.W.T's though, so I suppose we already have proof that he's smart."
"I mean… he did grow up with us, so exams or not, he knows it'll come eventually."
Nodding, George shrugged. "Maybe we should give him a pass. He did get his head on straight eventually, after all. Besides, the waiting will drive him crazier than anything we can do to him."
They shared a laugh.
"I suppose. And we've always got Ickle Ronniekins as a test subject if all else fails," Fred replied, flying up behind George and tapping him on his back.
"Tag, you're it!"
George gave chase.
The sky steadily filled with clouds as they twisted and flipped through the air, and a splash of rain on George's face made him pull to a stop.
A distant rumble of thunder sounded and George looked up just in time to see a flash of lightning strike through the air. It wasn't but a few seconds later when the next rumble sounded.
George turned, swinging his broom around in the air, but he'd lost sight of his twin.
"Fred? Fred, this isn't funny, dammit. We have to get back before the storm hits. Mum will be having conniptions! Fred!"
"George? Oh thank Merlin," Charlie gasped as he flew into view. "Come on, Bro, Mum is worried sick about you!"
"What? Oh, yeah, in a second. Just let me find Fred. He was here a minute ago."
"George."
"Yeah, in a minute, I said! What do you want me to do, leave him out here to get hit by a lightning bolt? He's my twin, I can't leave him behind!"
"George."
"What, Charlie? What?" George shouted, turning to glare at him, even as tears streamed down his face.
"Come on, George. Let's get you home."
"No!"
Charlie flew closer, but George lashed out, leaning forward on his broom and heading towards the storm, shouting out for Fred.
Charlie followed behind at a slightly slower pace, his face pale and worried.
"Fred! Fred, where are you?"
"George!" Charlie called, wincing when a flash of lightning crossed the sky overhead, cutting through the sudden bleakness like a knife.
"Go away, Charlie!"
"George, Fred isn't here, mate. He's… Fred's gone."
George shook his head, wobbling precariously on his broom. He raised one hand to his temple, rubbing it harshly.
"He's not! He's not gone, he's not gone! He was right here."
Charlie flew close, managing to get side by side with George so he could grip his shoulder.
"Mate, we need to get home."
"I can't… I can't leave him here, Charlie. I left him once before… and he… and I… and it… Charlie, I can't leave him. He needs me," George sobbed. "I need him."
"I know," Charlie whispered. "I know you do."
"I need him, Charlie. He's never left me when I needed him before. Why isn't he here now? Why isn't he here, Charlie?"
"I don't have an answer for you," Charlie admitted. "What happened to Fred was unfair, and I know it hurts, George. I know it does. But you can't put yourself in danger like this."
"He was here."
"George."
"I can't… Charlie, I can't… I can't breathe, Charlie."
Charlie dropped his hand from George's shoulder to the back of his broom, guiding them both around until they were pointing back towards the house.
"Let's get home," he murmured, then repeated, because his words collided with an especially loud rumble of thunder.
The storm was getting closer.
George didn't argue anymore. He leaned into Charlie's side, tears still falling unchecked onto his face, mingling with the rain.
Slowly, too slowly for his liking, Charlie flew them home, with a hand on each broom.
They almost made it.
A lighting bolt hit the ground and Charlie swerved their brooms, as a second one shot out from the sky. George cried out in pain, falling from the broom before Charlie could catch him.
Charlie landed a second after George, falling to his knees beside his brother's body.
"George? George! George!"
George's eyes fluttered and he met Charlie's gaze for a moment, before looking to the side of him. His lips tilted up in a smile.
"See, Charlie. I told you Fred was here."
When the storm let up, Arthur Weasley found his second oldest son, clutching the body of his second youngest, repeating the same words over and over and over again.
"I'm sorry."
Other Challenges;
Disney C4; The Weasleys (any of them)
Showtime; 1. Charlie Weasley
Faerie's; Air; Clouds / Breathe / Flying / Open