It's been a hard day, for the past several hours I've watched people weep, scream, cry, sniffle and comfort those around them. The grounds were solemn, no colour at all, the overcast sky made the black clothing even blacker, and even more drab, depressing. Could it all of been avoided? I don't know, but it seems like even the dark times weren't as dark as this, there was colour during the war, shots of light, bright and inviting, and now that it's over, when we're all supposed to be moving on and thankful that it's finished there's nothing but a sea of black around me. Even the green grass looks a pale shade of grey. It shouldn't be like this.
I'm not going to lie, I didn't have much to do with the war, I didn't fight in it, I just coward for protection like so many around me. Hoping the good fight would be over soon, hoping that everyone would come home, safe, happy and into loving arms. It didn't happen; we're left with memories of destruction, heartache and cruelty. What did they all fight for? Were they unsuccessful now that their in the ground? If they had known they'd never come back would they have left? It shouldn't be like this.
So here I am, slowly trudging my way back to the 3 broomsticks for a drink with friends. I hate funerals, stand there, hear of the memories in good times, talk about the person like they no longer exist and then go somewhere afterwards still feeling like nothing has been accomplished and pretend to positively socialize with others who are feeling despondent.
My arm is currently around my best friends shoulders, she lost her boyfriend in the war, I didn't know him that well, but a lot of people tell me he has the characteristics to turn this entirely glum scenario into a colorful experience that could be enjoyed by all. From the millions of talks I've had with Jo about him, Fred changed the world, one smile at a time. Before I passed it off as a proud girlfriend, but the wailing cries during the service turned my impression of him around. He really was a good man, a strong man, proud of his family, friends and morals. He never took no for an answer and always did things while laughing, joking and entertaining those around him. This is a day to remember Fred Weasley.
For 4 hours we did just that, sitting around a table at the back of the pub stories were shared, laughter was spilt and then immediately retracted due to thoughts of inappropriate behavior. He hasn't been in the ground that long, should we really be laughing? Of course we should, he would have wanted it that way.
"Another round please," Lee Jordan called to a waitress. Lee was a good friend of Fred and Jo's, another joker, and always doing whatever is in the best interest of others. He went to school with Fred, got in a lot trouble, but had fun doing it.
Everybody at the table was joking, telling stories, drinking, but only one was still crying, understandably. He sat at the head of the table, 2 full pint glasses of beer sat in front of him, his head bowed, nursing the first round we had bought, so sorrowful, so empty, so incomplete. George.
George was Fred's identical twin brother, his partner in crime. Now he was alone, more then likely wishing that the brothers were only twins and not identical. How would he look at him self in the mirror, how would he finish sentences, how would he start them? Apparently they were doing that all the time, never a complete thought between them, but together they finished every sentence.
The Weasley twins were masters of their art in High School, never saw one without the other. Always skiving off class to go and perfect they're latest invention, concoction or prank. Everyone knew the Weasley Twins, they owned that school when we were there, I remember in 6th year Jo and I watched as "the twins"; as they were infamously referred to, set a swamp in the corridor. They entire school found it hilarious; a part of it still remains. I expect now it's going to become more then just a memorial of their ingenious hilarity.
Jo started dating Fred at the end of her 5th year, he was a year older then her and their only regret as a couple was they never knew each other at the time of the Yule Ball. Jo had so desperately wanted to go to a formal event where Fred and her could dress up and dance the night away, in hindsight the only formal event Fred ever went to was the Yule Ball, another opportunity missed due to a life cut so short. Fred went with some quidditch teammate he knew from the Gryffindor team, Angela or something to that effect, in the end he regretted it, but life is too short for regrets as we're learning all to quickly from today.
We still sat there, at that long table full of friends, still remembering the incredible Fred Weasley, trying no to mention the dark times, and shedding glorious light on the images we want to keep of Fred in our minds. I finished my 3rd pint and decided it was time to indulge in a nasty habit of mine. I quietly got up and left the table to the front door of the pub and lit a cigarette, no one had noticed I left. Honestly it didn't matter, today was about Fred, and I wasn't going to be pig-headed enough to be that selfish on a day like today.
Taking a long drag I remember thinking "I wish I had gotten to know him better." It was too late now, he won't be forgotten, but he'll always be a memory, no new stories about him, no juicy gossip about Jo's relationship with him, it's over. Sadly and tragically it's over. I flicked the ash from the cigarette into the cobblestone street, looking at the tip of the cigarette for nothing better to do; I envied its amber glow. You know it's been a bad day when the light of a cigarette brings you hope in your quest for colour and light. Several people entered and exited the Three Broomsticks while I was out there enjoying what so many have told me is so wrong, but we only have one life, another lesson I learned from today's somber ceremonies.
"I wish I would have known him better," I repeated to myself. I was in a different house from Fred and Jo. Jo and I had been best friends for over ten years, but during the school year we lead to completely separate lives. She was a Gryffindor, known for her bravery. I was a Ravenclaw, known for my smarts. Jo was popular, pretty, and dating a Weasley, seriously dating Weasley, which was something to be admired. I was bookish, pretty, and not dating anybody, never did date anyone in High School really, a couple of dates here and there but nothing serious and nothing like Jo and Fred. I suppose I was a little jealous, Jo was loved, and Fred was loved.
I hardly noticed the red head standing on the opposite side of the door from me. Tall, strong, the athletic type, and completely heartbroken. I've never been the compassionate type, but if I didn't do anything I'd be a complete bitch, and that just isn't appropriate.
"Hey," I calmly cooed approaching George, "how are you holding up?" I had no idea what to say, I'm horrible in these situations. Luckily he raised his head gave me a laboured smile and bowed his head again. I just wanted to hug him, not out of any sexual reason, it just seemed like the thing to do, instead I rubbed his arm. "Just want to get out of here?" I asked. Slowly he nodded his head and we turned down the street to go for a stroll. I held my wand to my temple and thought, "George is with me we're going for a walk." I hoped it would get to Jo.
Silently we walked, and walked, and walked. Finally George broke the silence, "What am I going to do now?" His deep voice resonated off the walls of all the buildings surrounding us, sadly it almost sounded like there was two of him.
"I wish I could tell you it's going to be alright, but I'm not going to act like I know how it feels." I always hated how people would lie through their teeth in these situations, no concept of the pain dwelling inside, it seemed egotistical.
"I can't go on."
"Don't say that."
Hushed tones, I wonder if he really just felt like screaming.
"How can I open a whole fucking store based on happiness, a store that will give me nothing but memories of my brother, I can't do it."
"Then don't." Okay so it wasn't the best thing to say, but like I've mentioned, I'm not good in these situations.
He looked at me puzzled, like he was expecting me to tell him not to be foolish, to open the dream they shared, and smile at happy customers while every box on that shelf is tearing him apart.
We continued to walk.
"I'm sorry George, maybe I'm not the one you should be talking to about this." I apologized, apologized for being such an idiot, I should of got someone else from inside to do this, why am I so heartless.
"Don't be, so far you're the only one who hasn't lied to me today." He looked over at me and it was painfully obvious he was holding back tears. I'm quite surprised he could actually see. All I could do was spread a tight smile across my face.
"You know, I always knew Fred and I would be separated, I was hoping it would be from him marrying Jo. I had already convinced myself I could handle my twin leaving me for someone like Jo, he was going to propose after the war, I had accepted that." George broke, unstoppable tears flowed from his eyes and he collapsed into my arms, sobbing like a child. I said nothing, I patted his back, and I could feel my shoulder of my shirt absorbing the tears.
I had lost track of time, but for a while we just stood there.
"Beth, Thank you." I'm surprised he even knew my name.
"Anytime." I continued rubbing his back, he continued crying. I got a thought into my head, "Where are you guys?" It was Jo. I really didn't know where we were at that time, and I wasn't going to try to maneuver for a look at the closest street sign, I didn't even know where that was.
"What do you say we head back? They're probably worried about us." I asked trying not to disrupt his head from my shoulder, I faintly felt him nod.
We walked back, George was quite out of it, and he leaned heavily on me on our way back.
The gang was outside the pub, waiting and drunk. The night was over, we had all made it through the horrible day, and judging by the state of everyone the night was going to be easy for all but one. I bet he would have wished he downed those beers.