QLFC Season 7 Round 2
Montrose Magpies- Chaser 1
Prompt: write about a character(s) who has so many interests they want to pursue that they attempt to or successfully clone themselves.
WC: 2341
A/N: Fred and George's birthday are changed from what's stated in Canon to fit the story.
And special thanks to Jenny(Lady Rogue) and Frank for picking over everything with a fine tooth comb so this could be a story worth reading!
Fred sat at his desk, his red hair—streaked with more grey than he'd like to admit—sticking up at odd angles.
He ran his fingers over his scalp, letting out a sigh.
Lately he'd been feeling this deep sense of loss, or longing; he wasn't really sure which. There was something missing from his life.
"Mr. Weasley?"
Fred glanced over at the doorway. His assistant stood there, tapping her foot.
"Mr. Weasley, Krandle just sent you an owl asking about that report again. Also your wife is downstairs, waiting for you."
Fred nodded his head in acknowledgement, but made no move to get up. His assistant walked away, shoes clicking against the wooden floorboards. Fred sighed, feeling as if the world was against him. There was always so much to do and never enough time to accomplish it all. He looked over to the sole window in the room and noticed, for the first time, that rain speckled the glass, the drops trickling down the pane to gather at the sill.
The drops mesmerized him; some were making their own path, but others seemed to attract each other, becoming one larger drop and continuing their journey to the bottom together.
He rested his head against his hand, closing his eyes. For some reason, he envied those drops.
August 1989
Fred and George lay side by side in a twin bed, nestled together so as to fit their two gangly bodies on the small mattress.
They each had their own bed, but not a night went by that they didn't end up squished together on George's bed in the far corner of the room.
George lay on the inside of the bed, pressed up against the wall to give Fred as much room as possible.
"Fred?" George said into the darkness.
"Hmm?" came the answer from the dark.
George bit his lip, debating whether to keep quiet about what was on his mind. But then he remembered that this was his brother he was talking to, and if he couldn't share his worries with him, who was he supposed to share them with?
"Why can't people tell us apart?"
Fred snorted. "Because we look exactly the same."
George stared into the darkness of the ceiling. "No, I mean, even after they meet us. When they talk to us, they still can't tell the difference. Like, we're the same person."
Fred shifted next to him. "Is that still bothering you?"
George just nodded. He knew his brother didn't need him to say anything.
That morning,, they'd been talking at the breakfast table about the two of them starting Hogwarts the next day. The classes they'd take, the friends they'd make, and the trouble they wouldn't get into. They'd talked about what they were looking forward to the most. Fred was eager to explore every inch of the castle, discovering it's secrets and hidden passages. George was looking forward to exploring a different part of the school—the classes; he couldn't wait to study magic. And even after all of that, at the end of the conversation, their mum still talked to them as if they were exactly the same.
"We're different people, Georgie. It's not like we're clones or something." Fred nudged George lightly with his shoulder. "Eventually people will figure that out. But until then, let's just have fun with it, yeah?"
"Yeah." George sighed.
They lay there in silence, their breathing perfectly synched, until George heaved another sigh.
"Worried about tomorrow?" Fred asked.
The corner of George's mouth twitched upward; his relief that someone understood him momentarily outweighing his worry. But only for a moment.
"Yeah, I mean, what if school is exactly the same as it is here?
What if no one can tell the difference?"
He could hear his brother chuckle. "I'm counting on it."
"You might be," George muttered.
The two boys lay in silence.
"Do you regret it, then? Us being twins?" Fred finally asked with quiet hesitation, almost as if he didn't want to know the answer.
"Of course not," George replied hastily.
Fred let out a breath beside him. "Good, because I certainly don't."
March 1996
Fred and George found themselves being jostled down the hallway and into the new Divination classroom. The girls kept covering their mouths and giggling as their eyes darted over to their professor.
George followed their gaze, his eyes coming to rest on the glorious form of a centaur.
Everyone had heard about Professor Trelawney's replacement, Firenze. But hearing about it and actually seeing the horse-man were two completely different things.
"Now, he's got it made," Fred whispered beside him.
"Yeah, no kidding. Body of a horse, torso of a man. That's the best of both worlds right there." George shook his head in disbelief.
Fred looked on in appreciation. "Definitely considering that as my Animagus form."
George looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What happened to being something small and inconspicuous?"
"Please," Fred scoffed. "Do you see the way the girls are ogling him. And besides, everyone knows horses are hung as hell."
"They're ogling his face and hair, you moron."
Fred clapped him on the back. "Oh, Georgie, Georgie, Georgie. You have so much to learn. Sure, the looks play a huge role, but everyone knows the direction a woman's mind tends to take."
George just shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"Gentleman."
Firenze had trotted over to them, his hooves making no sound on the soft grass.
"It pleases me to find two students so eager to learn. Would you please join me in the center of the clearing?"
Fred and George threw each other furtive glances before following Firenze.
"Today, we will be looking into the stars to see how they foretell our future." He waved his hand above him and the clear blue sky turned dark, stars dancing across the night sky.
Firenze's eyes were riveted on the heavens, the look on his face becoming one of confusion.
"This is most strange."
Fred and George looked up, but all George could see was the stars above. Astrology hadn't ever been either of their best subjects.
"Care to elaborate?" Fred asked.
"You are twins," Firenze said quietly.
"Well, yes," George answered, looking over at Fred, who rolled his eyes. "But that's not exactly a revelation."
"No, of course not." Firenze trotted over to the other side of the clearing, perhaps to get a better view of the heavens. "But you appear to have been born under different signs."
"Yeah, I was born just before midnight on May 20th," Fred started.
"And I was born just after midnight on May 21st," George finished.
"We just celebrate our birthday on the 21st because, well, let's face it," Fred said looking over at George.
"It's easier," they said in unison.
"Not to mention, twins born under the sign of Gemini… that's just bloody wicked!" Fred flashed the students behind him an ear-splitting grin.
Firenze's eyes did not leave the sky. "Yes, but that doesn't explain the break in the stars. It's as if an extra appeared when there had never been one before. As if…" Firenze's eyes glazed over, "one of you is not meant to be…" he trailed off.
Fred let out a short laugh, folding his arms across his chest. "Why? Because we were born on two separate days? It's a little bit of a stretch to say that one of us isn't meant to be." George chewed on his lip as Fred argued with their teacher. "It's just a coincidence."
Firenze lowered his gaze for the first time and looked back and forth between them.
"The heavens do not lie, Mr. Weasley. The two of you should have been one. There was strong magic involved at your birth, but not dark, no, not dark."
George couldn't look at Fred . He swallowed, nervous, for some reason.
"So, are all of you centaurs 'expert' astrologers, or is it just you, then? Because you could just be mistaken." Fred was smirking, his eyes narrowed. George watched Firenze frown, gaze flicking up to the constellations above once more. He tilted his head.
"All centaurs look to the stars for guidance; we have studied them for centuries and know their dance well. It's a part of who we are. We do not call ourselves astrologers, but if you wish to put a name to it, I suppose that is what we are."
"Which one of us is it?" George finally spoke. "Which one of us was never supposed to have been born?"
Fred turned toward hi, and rested his hand on George's shoulder. "You can't be serious, Georgie? Do really believe what he's saying?"
George stared at the stars for a moment longer before shaking his head, forcing a smile.
"No, of course not. Just going along with it for the show," he said, pointing behind him to where the rest of the class was staring at them with wide eyes and slack jaws.
Firenze gazed at them solemnly. "Whether you believe it or not, the universe will right itself. One of you was not meant to be and one day that will be corrected. Everything will be put right once more."
Fred grabbed George's arm. "Let's get out of here. This is a bunch of bullocks."
George followed his brother but his eyes kept drifting back to that dark sky.
May 1998
George cried out, hand flying to his chest to assess the damage. There was none. His heart felt as if he'd been ripped to shreds, been cursed or stabbed or killed. He fell to his knees with a moan..
Then, suddenly, the intense pain was gone, replaced by a dull ache that seemed to reach right down to his soul.
He looked around, the battle still raging around him, but he was isolated from it all, in a muffled bubble, as if the entire world had been Silenced.
"Fred," he choked out. "Fred!"
He didn't know where his brother was, but he knew something was terribly wrong.
He pushed to his feet, gasping, trying to suck the air back into his burning lungs, and raced down the corridor.
Fred's body was arranged carefully on the floor; arms pulled in close to his side and legs in a straight line extending from his torso.
George knelt next to his brother. Did the universe right itself, he thought. Was his brother's death on him?
His brother's death left him with questions he didn't have the answers to. Fred had to have been the extra one; the one that was never meant to be. But why? Why would someone do this? And why couldn't it have been him? If someone had made Fred when there was supposed to have existed, then didn't that mean that Fred had been made with a purpose in mind; an end goal? And if so… then why did he have to die?
Then, an even darker thought came to him. What if he himself had been the extra, and not Fred? Had he stolen his brother's place; his life? Either way, how could he live with himself?
The tears streamed down his face, falling from his cheeks to stain Fred's jacket dark; each tear following its own path.
Fred was still sitting at his desk when he heard the familiar stomp of boots coming down the hall. The footsteps became louder as the person got closer.
Fred swiveled his chair to face the door as Angelina came to a halt right outside his office.
The years had been kinder to her than they'd been to him; she was a gorgeous as the day he'd married her. She leaned against the doorway and pretended to frown at him.
"Fred," she said. "I've been waiting for you."
Fred smiled. "Yes, I'm sorry about that. I must have lost track of time, dear."
She smiled back, a familiar twinkle in her eye. "Yes, you must have." She sauntered over and sat on his knee, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck. "What was it about this time?"
Fred stroked her cheek, trying to form his thoughts into words.
"What would you think if there were two of me?" he finally asked.
Angelina raised an eyebrow. "You've discovered my worst nightmare, congratulations."
Fred chuckled. "Yes, yes. Very funny. But in all seriousness, what if there were two of me? Could you imagine?"
"Yes, unfortunately, I can." She screwed up her face as if she could see this new reality as clear as day. "What would you even do with two of you?"
He leaned his head back and gestured around him. "Well, I'd finally get out of this office and I'd be able to open my own shop. I'd be able to return in time for dinner, see the kids, paint the downstairs bathroom, get rid of that damn Ghoul." He stood up abruptly, barely catching Angelina before she toppled to the floor. She laughed, leaning into his body. He stepped away and began pacing back and forth. "I mean, I have so many ideas but I can't seem to do it all by myself. If there were two of me, I could finally get started," he said excitedly.
"Mmhm." Angelina stepped out of arm's reach as Fred gestured wildly. "And what would this other you be like?"
"Well, why change perfection? He'd be exactly like me, of course. Clever, funny," he waggled his eyebrows at her, "ridiculously good looking."
She shook her head and laughed, and then turned to walk out of the office. "Well, as wonderful as that sounds, dear, I'm glad there's just one of you. I don't know if I could handle two."
George hurried to follow her out of the room, throwing one last look at the window where the rain still trickled down, flickers of an idea coming to mind.
"Yeah," he said with a smile. "We'd cause twice the trouble, that's for sure"
Then he snuffed the candles with a flick of his wrist, and closed and locked the door.
Optional Prompts:
(characteristic trait) that of a Sagittarius
(profession) Astrologer
(emotion) regret
