Title: Empty Spaces
Summary: They always expect Fred to join in on the laughter, even knowing it's impossible. Just a brief look into the emotional not-quite recovery of George Weasley after the death of his twin.
Word Count: 833
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything related to Harry Potter.
Empty Spaces
The bodies of the fallen are housed in a chamber off the Entrance Hall. Elsewhere the survivors sleep. At least, George thinks he's asleep. Maybe he is actually dead. All he knows is there doesn't feel like much difference between the two.
During the funeral he stands there at the foot of the grave, so still like one of the marble angels that decorate the cemetery. He doesn't cry. He can't. Molly collapses in a hysterical, sobbing mess. Arthur, Bill and Charlie try to stay stoic and strong but the tears escape regardless. Percy seems to be in equal parts devastated and catatonic. Harry and Hermione stand either side of Ron, all of them crying silently. Ginny stands next to Bill, as she has done ever since she was old enough to walk. Hunched over and shoulders shaking, she refuses to look at the grave. As if she thinks if she can't see it, it isn't real. George wishes it were that simple.
A notebook is spread open on the small desk in the corner of their room. Next to it is a soiled quill and ink well which were only just recently in use, writing out ingredients and measurements for a new product in that chicken scratch handwriting of his. George knows he will never complete that product but he can't bring himself to get rid of the evidence. The items lie there so innocently, like they are waiting for Fred to waltz into the room, sit at that desk and continue where he left off. It is a lie and for a moment, George is trapped between intense rage and vehement denial. In the end, he settles on the blank numbness that has become the normal for him and leaves the mess for someone else to deal with, knowing no one will.
The Weasley table is as crowded as ever, if a little more subdued. The surviving members of the Order and the DA are regular visitors. Hushed voices and sympathetic glances are the order of the day. George would roll his eyes at them but he has forgotten how. It is an unwritten rule; the seat next to George is always left unoccupied.
Laughter is forced and brittle. Sometimes it's because the person is afraid to laugh, to find anything funny ever again. Other times it's because the silence just needs to be filled with something. However, most of the time it's because they are all too aware of whose laughter will be missing from the group.
Time heals all wounds. Whoever first said that needs to be hauled over broken glass and have lemon juice and salt rubbed into the cuts. Wounds may eventually scab over but pick at them and they will start to bleed again. When he does manage to sleep, George does so with a pillow in his arms so when he wakes there is something physical to fill the empty space next to him. Emotionally he is left adrift.
The first wedding after the war. It symbolizes everything a wedding is supposed to. Love, happiness, new beginnings and eternity. For one day, everyone lets go of their residual grief and celebrates. Still an extra chair is laid out and is placed next to George. Is he an individual or one-half of a broken whole? He can't remember anymore.
The post-war baby boom continues, bringing with it the arrival of James Sirius Potter. Looking down at his nephew, the nephew named for two Marauders, George begins to see a future for the first time. He sees this kid will be trouble. George smiles.
Today is his wedding day and Percy stands up as his best man. Some people find that odd but George couldn't care less. Today is about him and Angelina. Because Fred isn't here but they are. One person died that day, not two and he can finally see that, even if the loss of him will always hurt.
When his son is born, they don't even need to think about what to name him. The mediwitch asks for a name. Together they say Frederick Gideon Weasley. Baby Fred looks like Angelina but his eyes are blue. George can feel something he thought lost click back into place.
For nearly a whole day, he forgets. Then he remembers, not that Fred is gone but that he needs to tell him about a prank Roxanne pulled at Hogwarts. He reaches besides him for that ever-present source of comfort, laughter and love at his side. There is nothing and he remembers-everything. Angelina knows to leave him alone tonight. Tomorrow she will be there for him and for all the years after that.
The years roll by. Lives are lived. Full of births and deaths and weddings and joy and sorrow and laughter and tears and shouting and pranks and love and heartbreak and tragedy and redemption and fights and family and failure and success. The hurts will heal, with time. But still the empty spaces remain.