George looked. That one quick glance was all he needed. The flash of red, that familiar laughter, full of mischief. There was no mistaking it this time. Before he lost sight of the red-headed troublemaker, he sprinted up towards him, grabbing everything in his path to get him up the seemingly endless flight of stair faster. He could still hear the laughter. His heart ached with compassion; George had missed the sound of his laugh for so long. Within just a few more rushed steps, George reached the top of the staircase, and shook his head with a small smile on his lips. He always loved to be chased, whether it was George himself or anyone else; he loved to be chased.
Seeing another flash of red to his right, George felt a bigger smile being to tug at his lips, and letting it takeover, he felt himself laugh along with the one he was chasing. Fred. He knew it was Fred. How could it be anybody else? And then he heard a voice in the back of his head; He's dead. Fred's dead. You're going insane!
His smile instantly dropped. Was he? Was George really insane, driven mad by the loss of his brother? His partner in crime? His best friend? He didn't know, and right now he didn't care. The laughing, it was coming from their old bedroom; he could hear it, clear as day. George sprinted down the corridor, and crashed into a door. He fell onto his back, and looked up to read the name-plaque: 'Gred and Forges room! Keep your butts out!' He silently chuckled to himself. He remembered playing those jokes on their mum, he was Fred, and Fred was him. But not anymore. He sighed in despair, but felt his spirits seemingly lift as he heard the faint laughter again. In his haste, George grabbed the door handle and pulled it down, forgetting that Molly Weasley had locked it after that night. That fateful night. 2nd May 1998. If only Fred had moved, that one second before. If only George had taken the curse for him. It must be so much easier to leave than to be left. The room had remained locked and untouched for months now, and no-one dared enter, for they wanted it to stay as if Fred had never left.
Slowly pushing the door, he felt it move, and open for him. Puzzled, he pushed it open fully, and in return was met with a cold breeze. He stepped inside cautiously. He knew he should be afraid, but something was calming him, keeping him from turning and closing the door behind him. Something wanted him here. After he was fully stood in the untouched room, he noticed the mirror. Words were beginning to form, but he couldn't make out what just yet. Peering closer, he saw a message begin to form. As he stood in front of the mirror, Georges breath stopped short, and he felt a tear slide down his cheek.
'I am always here with you. I would never leave you alone. I love you brother'
As the message slowly faded away, George just stared at his reflection. He noticed something. There were two pairs of chocolate brown eyes staring back at him. Both the same. The eyes of two brothers, joined again. George felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked behind him to see nothing. Checking the mirror again, he looked into his lost twins eyes, and managed a smile before seeing him fade away again. But this time George didn't cry. Because he knew Fred would be with him, always.