((A/N: Hey, muh peoples!! I'm back for my second chappie, I hope it's alright. Actually, I'm pretty sure it's down right HORRIBLE. I wrote it very quickly today, typed it up very quickly, so there might be a ton of things wrong with it. You might be cringing as you read, saying "Omg he'd never say that!" or "Why can't she spell correctly, why does her grammar totally SUCK!" Most likely. But please go easy on me I'm very fragile.
Also, the Healer appears in this chapter a lot and she might seem like she's going to play a big role, but she's not going to. I've actually kind of been having writers block which is pathetic for only the 2nd chapter, but all the ideas I've got are for LATER chapters, the earlier chapters are kind of jumbled and scrambled and all over the place. I kinda just threw the healer in this chapter to waste time and fill up space. That's probably not what a good writer does, but I'm not a good writer so hey!
And, does anybody here go on Mugglenet? Well, I just had a thought (that's rare for me!) and do you know how they always update their site with a happy birthday to the characters? Like last year they had "Happy birthday, Arthur Weasley!" and "Happy Birthday, Rubeus Hagrid!" Yeah? Well I'm going to BAWL in April when they post a message saying "Happy Birthday, George Weasley!" Isn't that so wrong? To see his name by itself? I know that he is his own person and blawdy blawdy blah, but I'm going to cry when it's just his name on April 1st. Not cool.
And!!! You might want to skip the author's note at the end. I'm just ranting at how much I hate David Yates and how the future HP movies are going to suck because of him.
Read and enjoy!))
What if: Day 1George was holding his breath; his heart was beating out of his chest as he stared down into Fred's pale face. He could hear his family shuffling into the room behind him but he paid them no mind.
How could he have let this happen? He was the one who suggested that they split up, that Fred needed to go with Percy and George with Lee. Maybe if they would've gone together, George could've prevented this.
"George," He heard Harry's shaky voice coming from his right, a hand on his shoulder, "I know what you're thinking. There's no way you could've done anything to stop this, so stop blaming yourself. Ron, Hermione and I were there and there was no possible way that we could've done anything, nor Percy." George could see Percy shaking out of the corner of his eye.
"But we still should have tried." Harry went on, his voice more noticeably shaky now. "If anyone should've done something, it was me. If you want to blame someone, blame me." He finished with a hint of anger in his voice.
George couldn't tell if Harry was angry at himself, or at George.
"Don't be thick," George said quietly, his eyes never leaving his twin's face, "I don't think he wants any of us to blame anybody, it wasn't our fault."
Nobody spoke a word after this. All was silent in the small room except the sound of Fred's quiet breathing, the whole family watching the rise and fall of his chest.
A few more painful minutes of this was all anyone could bear, and they all collapsed into chairs on the left side of the room. Molly had her face in her hands and her shoulders were shaking. Arthur instantly put an arm around her, his gaze on his son.
Everyone else looked pasty and sick, not saying a word to each other.
George didn't know how long he stood there. He didn't move from the side of the bed; he felt that if he made a sound or moved an inch he would lose Fred forever.
Two hours slowly passed by before Arthur stood up rather abruptly and cleared his throat loudly. Everyone jumped and turned to look his way.
"I think...I think t-that you should all go home and get some rest. I'm sure Healer Marshall will alert us right away if he wakes up or there's a change." He looked reluctant to leave, as did everyone else, but slowly they all stood up and moved towards the door.
Standing in the doorway, Molly turned her tear-filled gaze to George, who hadn't moved from his spot at Fred's side.
"George," she said quietly, her voice strained, "Honey, are you coming?"
He shook his head wordlessly, not looking at her.
"I don't think so, Mum. I'd like to...to stay here. With him."
Molly smiled, one tear freely running down her face now.
"If you insist, sweetie. I want you to take it easy and rest, though. It won't help him get any better if you get yourself worked up over it. Do tell us if anything changes."
George nodded his head slowly and finally turned his gaze to look at her. "Will do, mum."
She smiled slightly once more, looked at her twins sons one last time, and slowly closed the door behind her with a soft click.
George didn't know how he did it, but soon enough he found himself lying sprawled in one of the chairs leaning against the chipping wall of the hospital room.
Groaning, he slowly opened one eye and peered out sleepily across the bright room. He sat up rather quickly, hoping to see any sort of reaction or gesture from Fred to signify that he was awake. Seeing his brother still sleeping the same way, although noticeably paler than last time, he sighed heavily and fell back against the chair with a small thud.
The shock of what was happening was still settling in. George hadn't quite come to terms with it yet; he was still lying to himself and telling himself that Fred was going to get better, that in time they'd be bringing him back home just like they did with Dad.
He hadn't cried yet, either. He wouldn't let himself. Was crying going to heal Fred? Was crying going to save his brother from his fate? He was so young, although not so innocent. He didn't see how this was fair, how it was possibly Fred's time to go this early in life.
George didn't know how long he was brooding over this before he heard the door open with a creak.
Turning to look, he wasn't surprised to see Healer Marshall walking back into the room, with a less than happy look on her face.
She looked at him and was able to manage a small, sincere smile. "Hello...George, I presume?"
He didn't smile back, only nodded politely. "Hey, any more news?" He asked rather nonchalantly, even though it didn't fool either of them.
She looked between him and Fred rather quickly, expecting George not to notice. He did, though, and thought about how it probably shocked her for a minute at how alike they looked. Obviously, they were twins. It seemed so far from the truth at the moment; he didn't think he looked a thing like his brother then. Fred was so pale and so fragile looking, like he could break at any second. George's face was stony and unwavering, his gaze never leaving the doctors face.
"I'm sorry, George, but no. He hasn't changed and most likely won't any time soon, although he should wake up in no time." She replied, her eyes meeting his. She looked like she was refusing to back down.
"Why hasn't he, though?" George said, talking rather to himself than Healer Marshall. He turned away from her to look at Fred again and he felt way older than he was.
She only smiled sadly in response, still looking at him.
"I think you should leave, George. It seems that he won't be waking up for quite a while, maybe not until morning. You should probably go home and get some sleep."
'Home...' George thought rather bleakly. Where was home, anyway? The burrow, the flat above the joke shop, maybe. Right now, though, it seemed that his place was at Fred's side and no where else.
"Maybe it's a good idea." He sighed, wiping a palm over his sweaty forehead, his hair stuck to it stubbornly. He didn't want to leave, but if he was awake Fred would probably bully him into going home.
She moved over to help him out of the chair, since he was still rather tired, but he stood up himself, and didn't even smile in recognition. He wasn't going to show weakness if he could help it.
"Thank you," He said, feeling rather rude, "For...for all that you're doing for him. I know it can't be much, but for what it's worth, it's really great." He felt like hitting himself after he said this, it sounded so immature and stupid.
"It's not a problem, at all." She replied her voice, smile and eyes all sincere. "It's what I do, if you know what I mean. I'd like to help Fred, you and your family in any way that I can."
'Even if it's making his last days worth it.' He thought to himself, finishing the sentence for her.
Swallowing thickly and fast, he blinked back tears and shook her hand in a firm handshake, his eyes never leaving hers.
She just smiled response and shooed him out the door with almost a mother-like quality. For a second he had the urge to ask her if she had children of her own, and if seeing people sick and dying everyday made her worry about them more than anything else. Then he thought of his own mother and the pain she must be feeling. One of her kids was dying and there was nothing she could do to save him. Wasn't that her biggest fear?
"Go home now." Healer Marshall told him abruptly, smiling one last time before closing the door in his face.
George decided not to go back to the burrow where the rest of his family was currently residing. He didn't think he could face them all. He didn't think they could face him. Would they even be able to look at him now, since he looked so much like Fred, lying so frail-like in that stuffy room? He knew that once Fred woke up he would be dying to get out of there.
George laughed bitterly to himself at that one. Dying to get out of there.
Before he knew what happened, he was leaning against the side of the joke shop, tears falling hard and fast down his cheeks. He was full out sobbing now, almost choking he was crying so hard. His vision was blurry and messed up, so he couldn't see anything but the fuzzy outline of the bright letters decorating the window of his shop.
It took him at least twenty minutes to will himself to stop crying. He wiped the trails of water and dirt from his face rather angrily; he was mad at himself for doing this. He needed to be strong. For both Fred and his family; they were counting on him now.
He couldn't remember how he had done it but before he knew it he was sitting on one of the twin beds up in the small flat that resided about their shop. The room seemed so dark and unfriendly all of the sudden, as if it was telling him he shouldn't be there.
His eyes were heavy and his body was screaming at him to sleep but he didn't think he had the energy to. It felt weird to him even as he thought about it. Honestly, who doesn't have the energy to sleep?
He felt like he had been sitting there for hours. He couldn't sleep and he wasn't feeling up to getting to the kitchen and eating something. At least that would be an opportunity to get his mind off of the situation but he didn't think he could do it. All he could do was stare at the bed next to his. The bed that should've been occupied by a certain Weasley.
Suddenly he was running; running away from the shop. He couldn't do this. He couldn't just go home and get some rest while his twin brother was in the hospital dying for fuck's sake. He couldn't just go on pretending like nothing was happening, something that was going to turn his whole world upside down.
Suddenly he was back in the main lobby of St.Mungo's, running through the halls where everyone was turning to look at him. He knew he must've looked really silly; his hair and clothes were disheveled and there were streaks of dirt and tears left on his puffy face.
Opening the door to Fred's room, he skidded in and halted to a stop right in front of the bed. Healer Marshall was still there and she turned to look at him with her wide, brown eyes.
"George? Didn't I say...?"
"I can't do it. I can't leave his side, not when he's like this. It doesn't seem right. It seems like I'm betraying him. I have to stay, please, let me stay."
He must've looked so pathetic; so worried. Finally, her hard frowning face softened. She looked at him like she would've looked at a son, with such worry and such compassion.
"All right, if you insist." She sighed heavily, giving him a jokingly exasperated smile. "I'll let you stay. Just sleep, please, will you?"
"Yes, definitely." He breathed out slowly, gasping for breath. He clutched the stitch in his side and smiled at her weakly.
They actually sat there and talked for about a half an hour. Afterwards, George was pretty sure he knew more about this woman than he did about most of his friends. She actually told him that, indeed, she had children, three to be exact. She told him how scary being a parent was and how she worried about them every single second of every single day. She told him how much compassion she felt for his mother, how sorry she was that Molly had to go through something like this. She said she didn't know how she was going to be able to do this, and George really didn't want to be rude, but that was when he fell asleep.
Waking up, George had to shut his eyes quickly after opening them because he really didn't want to be blinded by the bloody sunlight poring in through the shades.
He sighed, his eyes still weighed down with tiredness. He was pretty sure that was only able to get four hours of sleep, maybe even less. He wasn't surprised to see that Healer Marshall left. She did have other patients, in fact. He was surprised, though, at the fact that there was a fluffy cotton blanket lying across his lap, even though it was rather scratchy. Ah, so this was why he hated hospitals.
He stared across the room at Fred, who was still bloody sleeping. It was always one of his favorite hobbies, sleeping was.
'It's what he's best at.' George thought, with an audible snigger.
Getting up quickly and stretching, he returned to Fred's bedside. On the contrary to what he was thinking last night, he was now pretty sure he looked like Fred. He didn't even have to look in the mirror to know he was looking as pathetic as his brother, with blue bags under his eyes and looking pale and weak.
He sighed softly and put his hand on Fred's chest, to make sure he could still feel a heartbeat. It was there, pulsing lightly under his hand, yet it was weak and slower than George's own, and that scared him.
What scared him more, though, happened next.
He felt the urge to scream loudly as Fred's hand suddenly shot up and came around his own, squeezing it tightly, his laughing eyes staring back at George.
((TBC...Of course. Cliffhanger, hahaha, you all hate me.
Wtf? His laughing eyes? Haha, does that even make sense?
Anyways. I HATE DAVID YATES!!!! HE SUCKS!!! He cut Fleur Delacour out of the 6th and 7th movie, there's no Bill or Charlie, there's no Gaunts or the Smith lady! Basically, the whole 6th movie is going to be a Lavender/Ron/Hermione love triangle!! Next thing you know, they're going to cut out Harry, Ron and Hermione! It's ridiculous! How are they going to explain the horcruxes without the Gaunts and Ms. Smith? It's soooo stupid! And Percy's also not in the 6th movie, which means there won't be a sweet scene where Fred, George and Ginny throw food at him, which I was so looking forward to. I really wanted to see who they'd cast for Bill, but noooo not anymore. That also means their wedding won't be in the 7th movie, which is totally stupid. How will they explain Gellert Grindlewald and Dumbledore's sister if there isn't a wedding, where that one woman tells Harry all about it? I bet you during Fred's death scene Percy won't be there, they'll probably cut him out of that too!
David Yates is definitely the worst choice for director yet. But I lost all my faith in the HP moves after seeing OoTP, which didn't follow the book at all. I LOVE the first 4 movies, but after that…Nope, sorry.
Anyway, enough ranting. Hopefully you liked this chapter, and the next will be posted ASAP. Bye!))