Everything barely made sense now that two had been violently separated from the twisted fate that previously arose. George had lost everything that made him whole and now he felt an unrelenting longing. That longing caused the poor man to hold on to every small pigment of memories that included his incredible twin, Fred. He spent most days in his room, the darkness and solitude was somewhat comforting. However, he decided to himself that he could make the memories more vivid by recording them. So every night, after a day of frustration and longing, of Molly shoving every bit of food into his speechless mouth because 'depression is turning him into a stick', then the pitying looks from Ron and Ginny who'd do anything to help him, George would curl up in bed and take out a quill.
-
Me and Fred must've been around 10? It was a beautiful morning, the trees were a hundred shades of orange and the grass couldn't get any greener. The breeze was refreshing and smooth. None of that nasty, thick, humid air. Those were just a few of the reasons why autumn was me and Fred's favourite season.
It was like us, twisted and mischievous. The way the weather was so indecisive, the wind would howl one day, and then the next day, rain would pour down, at the same time the sun would arise and rainbows would curve so perfectly in the sky.
Autumn was awesome. And so were we.
It was pretty damn hilarious, Ron was just 8 years old, and he was tiny, as well as naive. Teasing him was our main entertainment. If we went near Ginny, Mum would freak. Percy was too pompous, he'd just annoy us mostly. And the other two, Bill and Charlie, would just get us back as easily. So Ron was the easier target, but at the same time a fun one two. Me and Fred could get really inventive.
That one morning I rolled out of bed to see Fred staring up at me from the floor his head had been previously stuck in a book.
"What?" I asked, tilting my head slightly, I knew he look in his eyes, he had an idea, I felt a sudden burst of excitement through me.
"It's perfect George!" He said with a grin, larger than the Nile, spread evenly across his face.
"Tell me!" I exclaimed and sat up suddenly.
The plan was, in fact, perfect. Flawless and brilliant. At least that's how it looked to two ten-year-olds.
Still now I can see why it excited us so much. I mean, it beat the sugar-for-salt exchange. Or putting worms in Ginny's shoes. Plus Ron's reaction was absolutely priceless.
Technically, we weren't supposed to use magic. We weren't even just underage; we hadn't even obtained wands yet. But the plan was so great; we decided Dad's wand would do just fine.
It took a good bit of planning, but eventually we ventured out of our room. Mum and Dad were still asleep, it was 6am after all. So we had to be /super/ quite.
Fred led the way, as he did most of the time. I was fine in following him; he always seemed to know what he was doing. I felt like losing him would end me. He was my guide.
"George, keep up!" He hissed to me as he held tightly onto our parent's door, "Don't forget the plan." He warned as he grabbed my hand to pull me forward. I nodded confidently. I was always better at doing the sneaky stuff, so we both agreed he'd keep watch as I snuck into the bedroom.
Mum was snoring loudly at dad's side. I caught sight of the wand to the left of the bed. Within seconds I darted in, my feet treading softly on the dangerous ground. I grabbed the wand from the bed-side table and was out faster than a flash of ginger lightning.
"Have you got it?" Fred asked me urgently.
I nodded, eagerly showing him our new toy.
"Brilliant!" He said proudly, I always felt so happy when I managed to gain his approval back then. It was like walking on unrelenting sunshine.
After that, we returned to our bedroom, I held onto it tightly, as though someone were going to steal it from me. But as we reached our destination Fred held his hand out, and I passed it to him without hesitation.
"We need to test the spell." He said, and I nodded, spell books like the one we found in Bill's room weren't always reliable. Besides, it's not like we were the most experienced wizard's in transfiguration. It was supposed to be really hard, and we had barely held proper wand before, let alone cast spells.
I put a toy soldier on the floor and pointed to it, "Try it on this." I said, the adrenaline in me begging the spell to work.
Fred lifted the wand and whispered the words that he had been memorising previously as I slept.
The soldier morphed suddenly and the head became a black, hairy leg. However the rest remained muddy green plastic.
"Uh, maybe you got the wand movement wrong Freddie." I suggested, tilting my head slightly as I observed his weird creation. Fred nodded, "I'll try again."
We spent the majority of that dawn transfiguring toys until we had mastered the art to the best of our abilities. I was decent, but we both agreed Fred was better at it. We threw the weird half-morphed toys and the successful spiders in the bin, or out of the window. Mum would freak if she saw a mess like the one we had made.
Finally, we both exited the room and headed out to our little brother's room. As far as we knew, everyone was still asleep. A meagre amount of sunlight entered Ron's room through his Chudley Cannons - themed curtains. The small boy was snoring loudly with his chubby body spread out over his covers. His arm was wrapped firmly around his teddy, just as we needed it to be. "Yes!" Fred whispered happily. I turned and hushed him with my finger. If Ron woke now everything would be ruined.
Suddenly everything went wrong all at once, I stepped on a piece of this weird 'lego' stuff that dad had bought Ron from a muggle shop, and man, did it hurt. I yelped out in pain and Ron's eyes darted open. I think Fred panicked because he hissed out the spell urgently, and as quick as we had entered we left. Because the teddy that Ron had once gripped was now the ugliest spider you could lay your eyes on. It was huge and had disgusting pincers. Ron screamed louder and higher than Ginny could ever achieve, and Mum darted in the room faster than we knew she could achieve.
By then we were both hiding pathetically under my bed and breathing heavily. "We're dead." I whispered to Fred who couldn't even attempt to argue. "Georgie, we're never going to see the light of day again!" He cried and we both had those unbearable lumps in our throats that came when we knew we had passed mum's limit.
"FREDRICK AND GEORGE WEASLEY! YOU GET HERE RIGHT NOW!" She screamed over Ron's constant wailing.
Neither of us moved, we were shaking with fear and honestly, I felt paralysed in that moment. "Flight or fight?" Fred whispered to me and I sort of shrugged against him. "I don't think we have a choice." I hissed.
"Yeah me neither." He said, "FLIGHT!"
We both darted out of our beds in sync, and then exited the room. We darted down the stairs and were so close to getting out of the house when I felt a tug on my collar.
Percy, the absolute bugger, had grabbed us both with his hands, "MUM!" He screamed and we tried desperately to get free. I wasn't half-tempted to bite him when I heard her stomp down the stairs.
"YOU TWO, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" And in that moment, I swear she had been angrier than ever before.
-
"George?" A voice called into the feeble light of George's room, "George are you in here?"
"What do you want Percy?" He hadn't spoken to him properly since the funeral, and even then it was small talk. Nothing really to do with what mattered to them both; it was just dumb things, like the weather. George knew full well that Percy hurt as much as he did, but still it felt impossible. Speaking to anyone but Fred seemed to be impossible and at that specific point, it implied everyone.
Percy, without any invite, entered the room. George could see his tear-stained eyes, and it stung the tall ginger man deeply. It was as though it was his fault. As though George, himself, was responsible for his brother's death, and hurting his family.
"I- uh... I heard Mum accidentally called you... She called you..."
"Fred." George said rather harshly.
"Yeah." Percy said pathetically, it hurt to hear his name. "George, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He cried sitting on the bed next to his brother, waterfalls began pouring down his permanently pink face, "It's my entire fault. I could have – I should have saved him. His... his blood is on- my... hands." He held his face in his hands, his pain was unbearable and George could feel it all, like a smack in the face.
"Perc-, "He said suddenly, he couldn't believe he had been blaming himself all this time, "It's not your fault. You didn't ask that death eater to... to" He held his breath for a moment, "It wasn't you, okay?"
Percy looked up at him, "I thought you blamed me...?"
George looked shocked and shook his teary face violently, "No! Never! Not even slightly. I only blame Voldemort and Harry's already ganked his ass." Percy flinched out of habit at the name, but nodded along anyway.
"I miss him so much George." He whispered helplessly. George nodded. "Me too."
He then swiftly changed the subject, "Hey, remember that time we turned Ron's toy into a spider and-"
"-I grabbed you both by the collar and dragged you both to mum?" He said with a small chuckle, "You guys always did the worst things!" He said in his dumb, posh accent.
"And you were always there to spoil our fun!" George replied, and nudged his brother slightly.
Everything still hurt like hell and Fred was still gone, but having built a bond with Percy was one of the stepping stones towards recovering.