Fred was very familiar with the feeling of being too excited to sleep. After all, growing up in a family of nine, there always seemed to be reason for excitement. He laid for the longest time in his bed and under his covers, but staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling. He knew exactly why, too.
Finally, he would see who they had invited over for him.
Sighing, though with only the smallest hint of actual frustration, he thought harder. Maybe they were dead too? He wasn't sure what the rules were with this kind of thing. But he didn't really know anyone who had died. Sure, there was his uncle, Bilius, but truth be told, Fred hadn't even known Uncle Bilius that well and he didn't see why the others would think he would cheer him up. He had a few other deceased relatives as well, but he none that were exceptionally prominent to him...
Suddenly, Fred jolted upright as though a shockwave had been sent through his spine. A grin spread across his face.
Fabian and Gideon.
His memories of his uncles were scarce and dim, stemming mostly from stories that he and his siblings had been told by their mother. Naturally though, he and George had felt an immediate connection with them. They had even become something of an inspiration for them. They too were close brothers who were known a a pair ("Fabian and Gideon" their mother would sigh lovingly) and were known for their intense bravery, and perhaps borderline recklessness even.
Fred smiled so hard his face hurt as he leaned back against his mound of pillows. Thoughts and daydreams swam through his head of meeting his idols, how they would react to seeing him now, whether or not they would be impressed with his and George's work.
But of course they will be, he thought almost smugly. What's there not to be impressed with?
He paused thoughtfully. He wondered whether they would find his death worthy of honor. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure if he thought it was. He hadn't seen it happen. He wasn't even quite sure what had caused his death. All he remembered was laughing, and then he was gone.
Putting this thought from his head, he turned on his side with a broad grin and closed his eyes, dreaming only about the adventures he would be able to go on with his uncles once he met them.
Suddenly, Fred found himself in a place so familiar he could have described it perfectly down to the last cobblestone. He had to admit though, he would have expected to see more people in Diagon Alley on such a nice day. Shoes scuffing the ground, he peered around. In fact, there seemed to be no one at all. He was completely alone, it seemed. Up ahead, he could see the shop, his and George's, and smiled as he picked up his pace.
"Fred, there you are!" called his twin as the identical man jogged towards him out of nowhere. "We've been looking all over for you!"
"We?" Fred asked. He felt surprisingly at ease seeing his brother here. But then, he wasn't even sure at the moment why it should be surprising. He saw his brother every day, after all.
When the running man caught up, the two walked in synchronization towards their store.
"Fabian and Gideon have been waiting to see you, you know!" George said happily as he pushed open the door to let them both in.
Fred grinned at his brother. "Of course they have," he replied. "I'm brilliant."
"Humble too, Freddie," George snorted, grinning identically.
"Is our favorite set of twins back then?" called a voice from the backroom as the sound of footsteps approached.
Two men appeared from behind the curtains that hung behind the counter.
"Our favorite set besides us, anyway," added what Fred guessed must have been the opposite of the one who had first spoken.
Twins stood before twins, facing one another, and all looking rather smug. Fred guessed it ran in the family.
"We're going to be late for dinner if we don't hurry," one said rather suddenly, and Fred somehow knew it was Gideon.
"Yeah, and Molly'll maim us if we hold you up from a meal," Fabian agreed.
"We'd better get going then," Fred said, and George nodded.
In the blink of an eye, they all found themselves in the kitchen at the Burrow.
Although Fred didn't remember Apparating home, he shrugged it off a second later, completely forgetting it, probably due to the excitement of the room.
Around him stood all his siblings, along with Harry, Hermione, and Fleur of course. Smiling, he took the empty seat between George and who he knew to be Fabian.
Though normally the kitchen would be terribly crowded with so many people, Fred was thrilled to see that it seemed to expand directly to their needs.
Even Percy was there, Fred noted. The pompous man even seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, completely enraptured by a story of Charlie's about an incredibly odd pair of Swedish Short-Snouts that had just arrived in Romania.
Fred had never before been happier, talking and laughing with his family. Had he been able to focus for just a moment, he felt sure that his heart would have been racing with all the happiness and love that engulfed him.
Just as they were finishing and planning to retire to the living room for more time together, George suddenly turned his head towards his twin, his face contorted in such a purely happy fashion that Fred knew all too well, as he had seen it plenty of times between the both of them.
"Hey Freddie?" he asked, and though everyone else continued talking, Fred seemed only able to hear him.
"Yeah, Georgie?" he replied, and a grin crossed his lips instinctively.
"I love you."
Fred wanted nothing more in that moment then to tell his brother the same. To tell him, assure him, that he loved him as well. But before he could even open his mouth, a hand on his shoulder and a voice that wasn't the one he wanted to hear forced his eyes open.
Light streamed in all directions into his newly vulnerable eyes but it was not the reason tears formed there.
Fred wanted to scream.
"Lily asked me to wake you," Remus' voice floated as it traveled through the previously undisturbed morning air. "Said that your visitor should be here in less than an hour."
Not facing the man, not thinking he'd be able to without punching him square in the jaw, Fred remained curled on his side, wiping his eyes.
"Visitors you mean?" he asked halfheartedly.
"Well," Remus began, sounding as though he was confused. "I thought it was only one, but perhaps I wasn't paying enough attention." Without another moment's hesitation, his footsteps started away.
Fred's heart sunk to the lowest he had ever felt it before. Now that Remus had gone, nothing stopped him from allowing himself to become immersed in his own tears and, not even shamefully, quiet sobs.
He had never wanted to see George more than he did now.
Pulling himself out of bed was terribly difficult. He didn't know what he had to look forward to. No George. No Fabian and Gideon. Nothing could cheer him up, he was positive of it. Painfully slowly, he moved to his bureau and began to dress lazily, just wishing for his head to hurt so he would have an excuse to stay in bed all day and perhaps have the chance to continue his dream. A pain shot through his heart as he realized it was the first time he acknowledged that it was a figment of his imagination. Taking extra time to straighten his shirt and buckle his belt and make sure that both his socks were symmetrical, he hoped to delay going downstairs. To his despair, however, it was just as he finished tying the laces of his trainers that a loud knock echoed through the quiet house from downstairs.
Groaning as he made his way towards the door, he couldn't help but feel the heaviness of his heart, which lay in the deepest pits of his stomach. Shuffling out of the room and down the hall, he found that he didn't even have the craving to stop and admire the works of art, even if it would drag out some more time.
May as well get it over with, Fred thought to himself as he turned the last corner and began to take the first step down the stairs. But everything seemed to freeze in the single moment he saw who stood at the bottom.
Tall and straight-backed with his hands finding home in the pockets of his trousers, he looked as modest as he always had. His head of dark hair did nothing to mask his unmistakable, naturally handsome features and the bright smile that played on his lips and spread its joy into the light gray eyes residing above, which, without Fred even noticing, flickered towards him and stared.
"Fred," breathed Cedric Diggory.