"We were identical twins, he and I…we had a kinship such as you could not imagine. We…we felt each other breathe…his heartbeat thundered in my temples, mine in his.
We were separated when we were still very young. My brother, my twin and I…in as much as you can separate one being. We were torn apart…I don't know what became of my brother….to the rest of myself."
-The American Dream , a play by Edward Albee
First Harry Potter Fic. Enjoy!
**
The corridors seemed oddly silent for the beginning of a battle. Fred and George ruminated on this fact as they strode, shoulder to shoulder down the fourth floor hall. They didn't speak a word to each other: now was not the time. And it felt weird to disturb the almost sacred silence. With a wave of his wand, George lit the candles leading down the corridor. From somewhere in the far distance, a savage roar sounded. It echoed through the grounds, and chilled the twins from the very soles of their shoes to the tops of their flaming hair. They quickened their pace until they reached the diverge of ways.
"OK, I'll take Gregory the Smarmy if you take the Mirror." Fred spoke softly. The hairs on the back of George's neck prickled as he heard many pairs of feet below them, thundering into the Great Hall…and the distant clanging of metal.
"Are you sure? I wager more people can get in through the Mirror, we should probably both stand guard there, and put another D.A. member on dearest Greg." Fred shook his head at these final words from George.
"Nah, little brother, if we need backup, we'll get it. I figure we're the only ones who really know these passageways, so it helps to have one of us in each place."
George smirked, "Only by 13 minutes am I your little brother."
Fred's face cracked into an identical smirk.
"Alright then, I'll take the mirror." George added, taking out his wand again as he heard footsteps coming their way, but ultimately disappeared as whomever was their owner took a different route to the fifth floor. "Just don't be a git and get yourself killed, alright?"
"Honestly, who do you think would kill such a good looking, charming, dapper young man like myself?" Fred chortled, slapping George on the back before starting off towards his post. "Watch yourself, mate. There's only two of us." And he was gone.
George stood alone for a few minutes, before heading in the opposite direction of Fred. Now, the sounds down below were thunderous, and he took off at a run towards the mirror. As he reached it, he was surprised to see his father already there.
"Dad…wha- how did you know this was an-"
"Entrance? I'm no novice, you know." Arthur spoke jokingly, ruffling his son's hair. For once, George didn't bat him away. "Where's your other half?"
"Guarding Gregory the Smarmy."
"Ahhh yes, I told Percy to take that one as well."
"Fred'll be right pleased that he has such good company." George muttered. Arthur pretended not to hear him.
Now, there was mayhem in the halls. People were running back and forth about the two, some with singed robes, some with blood dripping down their face, others with panic in their eyes. The Battle at Hogwarts had begun. For a fleeting moment, George felt regret for not telling Fred that he loved him, but that feeling flitted away when he imagined what Fred's face would look like if George actually said that. He laughed quietly to himself.
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from behind the mirror.
"This is it, Georgie." Arthur exclaimed, as dust was shaken from around the corners of the huge, ornate mirror. The two men lifted their wands, eyes rapt with attention.
"George, if we don't come out of this one-" Arthur spoke quickly.
"I know you do, Dad." The twin replied, eyes not leaving the mirror. "I love you too."
Arthur didn't have time to respond, for at that moment, the mirror started to fall towards the two of them with alarming speed. George, who had contemplated this happening, had been inching further and further toward the outer perimeter of the huge frame, and when it sped at them, he was ready.
"TO THE SIDE!" George yelled, and they managed to clear the mirror just in time, as it came crashing down on the place where they had just been standing. It shattered with an almighty bang, sending shards of glass everywhere.
"AVADA KADAVRA!!" Someone yelled from behind the mirror, and George felt a jet of green light burn a few hairs off his head. He was on his feet in seconds, and saw his father blast at least 5 Death Eaters out of the way with a single Reductor Curse.
The gaping hole behind the mirror was now packed with people, creatures, and Inferi, and when they saw clearly their opponents, they rushed out of the hole so fast, it reminded George of ants. He saw countless Death Eaters spilling into the corridor, and just had time to send a Patronus message before another spell was aimed at him. He ducked this one as well, before Stupefying 3 Death Eaters in a row.
"WE NEED BACKUP!" He shouted to his father, who was dueling Avery almost face to face. "I've alerted McGonagall!"
"Pay attention, George!" His father shouted, for a Death Eater had just sent the Cruciatus Curse flying. George ducked it easily, and responded with a powerful Body Bind Curse.
Minutes later, three other students joined them: Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. They started shooting hexes at the offending Death Eaters before they even reached the scene. It seemed as though Voldemort's army was not being stemmed. Just when they thought they had finished the lot, 20 more people, now heavily armed with crossbows and nasty looking knives, came crashing in through the passageway.
"Alright there, George?" Angelina asked as she blasted someone against the marble wall. "Where's Fred?"
"Guarding one of the passageways." George responded, smiling, as Angelina drew closer to him, firing off Stunning Spells as she went.
"What's happening down there?" George asked Angelina, as they dueled Death Eaters back to back.
"Giants just crashed through the Great Hall. There are more coming." George repelled a machete with a well-placed Shield Charm, then blasted its owner with a Stunning Spell. He wondered how Fred was doing a floor up from them, but didn't have time to dwell on it, because a second later, Angelina's report was confirmed when a Giant at least 20 feet tall came hurtling into the scene, flinging its arms haphazardly, and crushing several Death Eaters under its magnanimous feet. George avoided its trunk-like legs by about half an inch.
"WHOA. OK kids, Stunning Spells at the ready!" Arthur shouted as the Giant advanced menacingly on the five of them. They shot red jets at the Giant, but they couldn't seem to permeate his thick skin. They tried three more times until Lee, becoming frustrated, sent for more backup.
"Why don't we just shoot it with one of these?" George yelled to Lee, gesturing towards the fallen Death Eater's crossbows.
"Do you know how to work that, mate?"
"Sure, Fred and I used to mess around with Hagrid's." George threw Lee a crossbow while he donned one himself. It was difficult while having to dodge various spells from all around them, and keep out of the way of the sweeping limbs of the Giant.
"Aim for the roof of its mouth!" Lee suggested. George found this to be nearly impossible, as the Giant was moving around so much that he could barely see its head. However, almost in answer to a prayer, it roared loudly and widely as Arthur hit it with a jet of fire from the end of his wand.
"FIRE!" George yelled, and he and Lee aimed as best they could. Lee missed, but George had managed to wedge the arrow so deeply into the soft roof of the Giant's mouth that the tip protruded from the top of its head.
"Good one!" Alicia beamed as the Giant swayed, stumbled around a bit, crushing once again several Death Eaters, then fell with such a gigantic force that the majority of the paintings lining the corridor flew off the wall. The group scampered out of the way of the beast and was relieved to see that for the time being, there was nobody else coming through the wall.
"Be on your guard though, because there's bound to be a second round soon enough." Arthur said, mending his broken glasses quickly and replacing them on his face. George was going around and inspecting the bodies strewn about the floor to make sure they were actually dead, or at least paralyzed. He glanced at his watch. The battle had begun almost an hour ago.
Suddenly, as though catching them off guard, the ceiling at the very end of their corridor caved in with an almighty blast. As dirt and debris hurled towards them, the lot dove behind the body of the Giant. When the noise of falling timber and cement stopped, George opened his eyes and looked above him. The ceiling directly above them had seemingly not given way: it was just the end of the corridor that was in shambles. He could feel grime covering his face, and looking over at his four companions he saw their faces covered in dust and dirt. Getting up and dusting himself off, he made his way around the Giant. He checked the passageway to make sure that no more Death Eaters were ambushing before helping his father to his feet.
A shriek like nothing he had ever heard before rent the air. It was coming from the end of the corridor that had caved in. It was not of terror but of absolute, profound grief. It awoke such awful visions inside him that he felt frozen to the spot. Angelina got to her feet next to him, a concerned look on her face. He was just about to turn to face her when it happened.
A searing pain, starting in his heart and branching out to his extremities rendered him completely immobile. He dropped like a stone to the ground, clutching his chest and crying out in agony. It was something he had never in his life felt before. It was like vicious birds were clawing and ripping at him, tearing him apart, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Tears sprung to his eyes, and he struggled to open them as he felt Angelina, Lee, Alicia and his father crowd around him.
"George, what's happening?" His father spoke, with extreme panic in his voice.
He managed to speak.
"I'm being ripped in half!" Was all he was able to croak as he curled into the fetal position. Arthur was now looking worriedly from Angelina to Lee. George was panting, trying to figure out what could cause such hurt. Was it the after effects of a spell? Had he been hit with some Dark Magic that had rendered it impossible for him to escape this awful feeling? He couldn't breathe, would never be able to eat again. He felt as though his body was disappearing, and a whooshing sound was growing in his ears.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, the pain was gone. George lay out of breath, spread eagled on the ground, looking around wildly. Still with these questions spinning in his head, he got shakily to his feet. His father had his hands to his face.
"What happened?"
Their questions were answered by the sound of two pairs of feet, and of someone shouting.
"ROOKWOOD!!!" The pursuant cried, and soon they realized that it was Percy Weasley, pursing a cackling Death Eater who was running at top speed.
"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS!!" Percy continued to shout, and as the two drew nearer, George realized that Percy had tears streaming down his face. He was alarmed. Never in his life had he heard Percy scream like this.
Arthur made for his third eldest son, but before he could reach him, Percy cried "AVADA KADAVRA!" at the top of his lungs, and a strong jet of green light hit the Death Eater squarely in the back of the head. As Rookwood fell forward, staring into emptiness, Percy crumpled to his knees on the marble floor, and his sobs echoed throughout the corridor.
In seconds, Arthur and George were on their knees as well, next to the shaking, huddled mass that was Percy.
"Perce? Percy what's the matter, buddy?" It took George a bit to figure out what Percy was muttering over and over, like a mantra.
"Fred…Fred….Fred…oh no, Fred…".
That's when George got violent. Upon hearing his twin's name, he grabbed Percy roughly by the shoulders and shook him hard.
"PERCY, WHERE'S FRED?!" He pleaded, but it only took one look from Percy's eyes to tell him where Fred was.
"The…the corridor collapsed- flew everywhere…Rookwood, he-he used Expulso and it caved in on us…I tried to cover him, but the beams were coming down, and-" Percy could say no more. He broke into a fresh wave of tears as George let go of him. Arthur was staring at Percy in disbelief, but George had reeled backwards and fallen on his side.
It was absolutely impossible. Fred Weasley could not have been killed, not his twin. Not his best friend, dead. Arthur had turned from Percy to George, and gave him a gut wrenching look. He was about to say something when George suddenly stood and started to bolt down the fourth floor corridor.
"George, NO!" Arthur yelled after him, terror in his voice at the thought of losing another son, but his yells were drowned out as a fresh wave of Death Eaters. He had no choice but to turn and fight, and glance as the twin sprinted down the hall towards the collapsed corridor.
He'd never run like that in his life, and as he did so, he felt his brain slowly coming to terms with the fact that Fred had been killed. Tears poured down his face with such force that he looked rain-soaked. The sudden torn apart feeling he had experienced back at the mirror now made more sense than ever. He slowed to a jog, and was surprised to see the corridor deserted. It seemed that after it had caved in, others were too afraid to venture into it, thinking that it might further collapse. George couldn't have cared less.
"FRED!" He yelled, and was surprised to hear such a strangled, grief-stricken cry issuing forth from him. He covered his mouth with his arm, feeling more dirt from the ruins sticking to his wet face. He struggled over the rubble, falling hard over the pieces of jagged wood and stone. He couldn't see Fred anywhere. He held back a sob as he thought of his twin, buried miles underneath the destruction, completely broken. Still, he searched, and the longer he looked, the more he cried for his brother.
Finally, he came to the tapestry near the end of the hall, and the minute he ripped it aside, he wished he hadn't. His brother lay completely still, eyes staring wide. Clearly, someone had pulled his body off to the side so to protect it from further damage. George vaguely felt himself sinking to the ground against the tapestry, and heard nothing but a distant ringing in his ears. For a while, he didn't make a sound, just stared and was aware of the rise and fall of his own chest. He didn't want to look at Fred's empty stare any longer, but he couldn't turn away. It was as though he was trying to establish a connection that was no longer there, in a hope for some sort of lifeline. Slowly, and with great effort, he crawled toward Fred, great cries of anguish now shaking his body.
"You stupid git!" He shouted so loudly it echoed down the empty hall. "We're supposed to be a team, Fred…Fred-" his arms gave way, and his body fell across his brother's chest, trembling like he'd never know warmth again. With difficulty he sat up and, not bearing to see Fred's eyes again, lifted a hand and closed them. It was only then that he recognized the tiny smirk that was immortalized on his brother's face. This sent him into further spirals of heartache. A cold cruel voice was speaking loudly, but he didn't hear anything except his own heartbeat, and the lack of his twin's. Afraid to do anything else, he laid down next to Fred. He wanted to weep more for the fallen hero, but he found he could not. He merely wanted to die. He wanted to wait here with Fred until a Death Eater found him and killed him. Or perhaps he would starve to death, lying here as the weeks ticked by.
It felt like hours until George moved again. He heard the tapestry being ripped aside again, and the disbelieving wail that meant someone had found them. He looked up to see his mother running towards them. She grabbed Fred's lifeless body in her arms, holding it close to her as she wept and wept, shaking violently. She coddled her dead son in her arms, gently stroking his cold cheek, pushing his hair from his brow. Kissing it. A fresh cascade of tears made their way soundlessly down George's cheek as he watched his mother grieve. She was wiping off Fred's face with a wet cloth, cleaning off the dirt and the dried blood, healing the cut just below his hairline.
Arthur stumbled from behind the tapestry, and immediately drew his hand up to his mouth to stifle the dry sobs racking his body. He turned away for a brief moment collecting himself before speaking in a hoarse voice.
"George."
George didn't respond. If it wasn't for the rising and falling of his stomach, he could have been mistaken for a cadaver. Pale white and expressionless, he let his hand drift to his mother's, which was lying over Fred's heart.
"Goodbye, brother." He murmured, so only Fred could've heard him. Molly pulled George to her and kissed his forehead.
"My boys." She whispered. "My beautiful, beautiful boys".
**
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