Summary: George is left with his thoughts post-war. SPOILERS FOR DH.
Rating: K+ to be safe as, although there is no coarse language or adult scenes, it gave some of my betas a rather unsettling feeling.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters and scenarios belong to JKR.
I are George.
Twins. Two for the price of one. A blessing. Such a blessing was bestowed upon the earth when on 1st April 1978, Molly Weasley gave birth to my brother and then, a few moments later, I was brought bawling into the world. Two beautiful baby boys for a doting mother to fawn over. For a father to be proud of. We were a blessing. A gift. We were twins.
Always one of two. Always a twin, never George. Even my own mother couldn't tell us apart. Fred found it funny; I couldn't stand it. I'd laugh along with him but it was hollow. I'd joke but it was empty words. I couldn't stand it. Because I was always one of two.
I remember throwing my jumper across the room as a child on Christmas Day. Screaming loudly, struggling as my mother tried to force me into the same clothes as Fred was wearing. Taking my crayons and scrawling my name all over the walls. I ARE GEORGE. And I remember how she'd yell.
"Fred, don't throw your jumper."
"Fred, how many times do I have to tell you, this t shirt is going on whether you like it or not."
"Fred! Don't get your brother into trouble!"
And then I'd scream. I'd scream so loudly, I swear my face would turn blue.
"I are George. I are George. I are George! "
And now, now we've lost Fred. Fred's never coming back. Mum cries. Dad shouts. Percy fills with self-loathing. Ginny doesn't speak. When we're together, I am sombre. But when I'm alone, I smile. All my life, I've wanted to be George. And now I am. Everyone presumes that I'll never be the same. That's true. Because everyone thinks I'm broken. But now he's dead, I am one.
I am whole.
'I are George.'
