Learning to Breathe
George Weasley
Shattered glass shone like crystals on the wooden floor. It was dark. As he walked, he heard the sound of the glass, crunching under his feet.
"Lumos," he finally said.
He had come alone. He didn't have to. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron, Ginny, his mum, his dad, Harry, Hermione, Hagrid… the list went on. Anyway, they had all offered to come with him so he wouldn't have to do it alone. But he had insisted. There was no point in pretending, he had told them. No point in avoiding reality. After all, he'd said, if he didn't go alone, Fred would have never let him live it down – in this life or the next.
He stared hard at the shelves. They were broken and empty. There had been several raids in Diagon Alley, and this shop had fallen victim.
Looking at the smashed shelves, he couldn't help but think they weren't the only things broken.
It still hurt too much to think about it, really. He tried not to, but he found it near impossible. For one thing, everyone kept asking him about it. Rather difficult to not think about something when everyone keeps bringing it up, really.
For another thing, losing Fred was much like losing his ear. It was losing something he had had since birth, something he depended on, something he had always thought would be there. The absence of Fred was as obvious as the gaping hole in his head.
Splat. He'd stepped on something… soft. And squishy. He looked down at the sole of his shoe. It was a Canary Cream. He sighed. Though a lot of their inventions had been mutual efforts, Canary Creams had been Fred's brainchild.
An odd thought just struck him. From this day forward, he'd have to think of new pranks on his own.
On his own. Those words were foreign to him. What did it mean, really? He'd never been alone before…
His eyes swept across the deserted shop. Every inch of the shop was rich in memories of the times he and Fred had shared. They had spent so much time together – their entire lives, practically. His mind drifted back to their younger years and all the pranks they had planned and successfully pulled off. Back to Hogwarts and their glorious days as Gryffindor's Beaters. Back to the Hogwarts kitchens, where they'd nick food at late hours of the night. As he reminisced, it was almost like he could hear Fred's voice again, asking him what they should do next…
And he knew. He wasn't alone. Fred would always be there, in his memory, in his heart, in his very being.
"You're still with me, aren't you, Fred?" he said to no one in particular. "You know, the brilliant part is that everyone thinks you're gone." He shook his head and chuckled. "Poor blokes. They won't even see it coming."
After looking one last time, he decided to go. Cleaning up could wait. Today, he needed to cause some chaos.
AN: I think the next shall be the last, unless I get a huge spurt of inspiration. Seems fitting though... seven drabbles for seven books? Yeah.
Anyway. Tell me what you thought.