Author's Note: Thanks so much to EricaX, SolelyReader, hachoo, Pinkranger888, HappyIsWhatHappens, HannahSchultz,Nexina,Toxic-Wings, Moonlight900, Cristina Weasley, Aris1013, and romirola for reviewing! :D It makes me so happy when I see people have reviewed :D haha so thanks! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter whatsoever.
Summary: After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.
Rating: K+
Once A Weasley
The Great Beyond
I'm pushing an elephant up the stairs,
I'm tossing up punch lines that were never there,
Over my shoulder a piano falls,
Crashing to the ground.
I'm breaking through, I'm bending spoons,
I'm keeping flowers in full bloom,
I'm looking for answers from the great beyond.
~ 'The Great Beyond,' R.E.M.
It took a couple days before George could go about his day the way he normally would. He almost even had to spend the entire Christmas day in bed, but Fred was with him no matter where he was, so it wasn't too bad.
George's headaches hadn't really died down at all, but after talking about it with Mr. Rikialria (at a safe distance of course), he was told to keep taking the medicine Madam Pomfry gave him if it helped. He was also informed that in a few weeks time George would be needing to see him again, but he had agreed to come to Hogwarts and treat him rather than having George go to St. Mungo's. That way people wouldn't be asking too many questions if every few weeks he disappeared from the school altogether. Plus, Fred would be throwing a fit each time if he wasn't allowed to come, so staying in the Hospital Wing seemed like the lesser of two evils.
But then of course, Fred threw a fit if anyone so much as disrupted George while he slept, so everyone shuddered at the kind of state he'd get himself into if he would've been unable to go. The entire family witnessed a different side to Fred that no one had ever really seen before. They knew that being twins they had a different kind of bond than most siblings, but Fred was like a very protective mother hen. He never left his side and refused none too politely any sort of help. And if anyone persisted, he did a very accurate demonstration of what he did to Bill when he tried to make him leave George's room. Fred tended to George like his life depended on it, and perhaps in some ways it did. After all, you couldn't have 'Fred' without an immediate 'and George' after it. Anything else was just sounded plain wrong.
"So of all the things you had to remember, me being lazy and Percy getting his Prefect badge was what came back?" Fred asked, dumbfounded.
George was propped up against his headboard of his bed, having spent most of the day with the household but found himself getting weak and tired. Fred helped him up the stairs, but couldn't resist asking him one question that had been on his mind since the moment he knew George would be alright. Fred was sitting on his own bed a few feet away, staring at his brother with an incredulous expression.
George hadn't mentioned to Fred about the baby incident, because he just didn't think it needed to be mentioned. Besides, what would he make of that? So worn out but utterly curious, George yawned, "What's wrong with Percy, anyway? You never told me he was our brother." The look George gave him was accusatory.
Fred snorted. "Who would want to remember big-headed Percy? Believe me, if I had the chance to forget him, I'd jump at it, mate."
The twin raised an eyebrow. "That bad, huh?"
Fred nodded. "Basically, he chose the Ministry over Harry and our Dad, saying how we were all stupid for believing Harry and Dumbledore about You-Know-Who being back, and I think he said something about Dad being worthless, but you get my drift. He's a great, power-hungry prat." He muttered to himself bitterly, and George caught words that implied a nasty prank on this Percy fellow.
"Er...why is it stupid to believe Harry?" George asked, confused.
"It's not. The Ministry's a coward and they refuse to believe that You-Know-Who's back, even though he clearly is," Fred grumbled. "So they're making up stories about how Harry's an attention-seeking liar and Dumbledore's an old fool."
George frowned. "That's stupid."
"Yeah, well, it's the Ministry, ain't it?" Fred smirked. They fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. But as Fred's musings drifted towards Quidditch, he felt he needed to say something. "You won't be able to play Quidditch when we get back."
George looked down at his hands. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly.
"What should we tell everyone?" Fred asked hesitantly.
His brother sighed. "The truth, I suppose. I mean, what else can we do? Angelina will explode if we give her a lame excuse or just say I resign."
"But what about everyone else?' Fred asked desperately. "What can we tell them? They all know how much you love it, they won't expect you to just up and quit."
"I don't know. I don't know, Fred," George finally whispered. "I'm not sure I want the entire world to know I'm mental," the corner of his mouth twitched at that, "but I don't see any other option. Besides, no one would actually have a go at me, right?"
Fred gave him such a disbelieving look that George knew he must've said something extremely stupid. "Okay, I'll let this one slide because you don't remember anything, but Merlin's beard, George, they'd have a go at you even if you were blind, deaf, and missing both your arms. And were unconscious."
Despite the situation, George let a chuckle pass through his lips and hold up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I got it. I'm a moving target. But I can handle it."
Fred felt like arguing, but he knew he wouldn't win. So he sighed. "If you're okay with it..."
George smiled reassuringly at his brother. "I am. Now, if you're all done being serious, I'm going to sleep."
Fred cocked up an eyebrow as George struggled to lie down. He snickered. "Need help, O Disabled One?"
He mock glowered at Fred, but then gave a sheepish grin. "Maybe. But I prefer to be called, 'Oh Disabled One, His Crippled Leige,' thank you very much."
Fred snorted, but walked over to help George lie down. "Thanks," he replied sincerely as he nestled himself in his covers and closed his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah," Fred murmured in a purposely bad attempt at sounding annoyed. "You're just lucky that you haven't bored me yet."
He faintly heard the sound of George's muffled scoff, before his breathing already began to even out. Fred grinned before he settled himself in his bed, waiting for when George awoke.
"HURRY UP YOU LOT!" roared Mrs. Weasley. It was really amazing the set of lungs she had on her. "OR WE'LL ALL MISS THE BUS!"
"Er...bus?" George asked, cringing as their mother's voice vibrated in his ear drums. Thankfully, his body was nearly fully recovered from his experience at St. Mungo's, so he was okay to go back to Hogwarts. But his headaches weren't gone, so, if possible, Mrs. Weasley's voice was even louder and more painful than usual.
"Oh, yeah, well normally we take a train to Hogwarts," Fred replied as he jammed his foot into the wrong shoe, while his other foot remained clad in his sock. "But we're taking the Knight Bus this time."
"Shoe, Fred," George said absent-mindly as he tried to gather as much stuff into his arms as possible to shove in his trunk.
"Oh, right, thanks."
"So, why are we taking a bus this time?" George pressed as he began attempting to close his trunk.
"I...huh," Fred paused thoughtfully. "You know, I have no idea. I've never been on it before."
"You haven't?" George asked apprehensively.
"Nah, but don't worry, Harry has and he's still alive," he grinned cheekily.
George rolled his eyes. "Yes, but he's also faced You-Know-Who and survived. That's not really comforting."
"Yeah, well, I guarantee you that if we die you're allowed to kill me." He walked over to sit on George's trunk for him.
George snapped it shut. "Thanks."
"No problem," Fred replied in an offhanded way. "Let's get downstairs before Mum -"
"BOYS!"
"Nevermind."
They trumped down the steps, George cringing the whole while, and entered the kitchen just as it seemed that Mrs. Weasley was about to scream again. "Well there you are!" she huffed.
"Yeah here we are. But Mum? You might want to keep it down for Georgie," Fred jerked his thumb towards his twin. "I mean, you're loud on the quietest of occassions."
She looked horrified. "Don't worry," George said quickly, feeling a suffocating hug coming on. "It's no problem, really -" But it was too late. Mrs. Weasley jumped on George and squeezed him so hard he felt himself going blue. He glared at Fred over her shoulder as he quietly shook with laughter.
Fred took pity on him after a while. "Mum," he walked forward and not so gently forced her off of him. "We're hungry."
"Of course," she sniffed, obviously making an attempt at whispering.
Everyone else filed into the kitchen, along with Tonks and a man named Remus Lupin. Apparently, they already knew of George's condition and asked him about it as soon as he entered, much to his embarrassment. Harry and Ron came a little later, but soon they were all shoving food down their throats while their Mum tried to yell at them all to hurry up while respectably keeping her voice down. Let's just say she wasn't successful.
"But I knit these mittens for you!" Mrs. Weasley told them insistently when they were getting ready to leave.
"Mum, we don't wear mittens, you know that," Fred said exasperately.
"We don't?" George whispered.
"Well excuse me if I didn't want you two to freeze," she replied hotly.
The twins shared a look. It was too early to start a row. "Er...they're great," George remarked feebly, taking his pair. On the back was a gold letter 'G' and the rest of it was red. Gryffindor colours, he realised.
"Yeah, exactly what we wanted," Fred continued, taking his own with a letter 'F' on them, though there was sarcasm laced in his tone. Whether Mrs. Weasley didn't hear it or chose to ignore it, they didn't know, because she smiled proudly.
Hugs were shared all around, and there was so many of them that Fred could've sworn he'd hugged a few people twice. They walked outside with Lupin and Tonks. George nearly walked on to the street, but Lupin threw out his arm to stop him just as Fred grabbed the collar of George's jacket.
Surprised, a he stumbled backwards just as a loud 'BANG' crashed over his ears. He whimpered, wincing quite noticeably.
"You okay?" Fred whispered in his ear as the purple sides of the Knight Bus suddenly appeared before them.
George rubbed his head and muttered, "Never better." Why did everything have to be so loud? Fred frowned as they were ushered on board.
"Fred, George, Ginny, you lot go to the back," Tonks instructed. "Remus will go with you."
The group didn't hear where everyone else would be sitting as they were coaxed into the back and shoved into seats. However, they mostly all got separated once they got there. Ginny got squashed between two burly men and Remus sat next to a rather old looking women. Fred and George managed to squeeze themselves next to the window, where a man that looked like he might be completely made out of gauze sat eerily still beside them, taking up most of the space.
"Yes, this is much better than trains," George remarked dryly, his body smushed against the window while Fred tried his best not to elbow him in the face. "Because Merlin forbid we have room to breathe."
Fred rolled his eyes. "Wasn't my choice, now was it sunshine?"
George sighed, "Yeah, I kno-" But the bus suddenly took off, and George was thrown back into his seat with a yelp. His heart jumped to his throat as the bus suddenly took off, faster than the speed of light. He unconsciously gripped on to Fred's arm, his eyes wide with alarm.
"Mother of -" Fred swore as he was jolted backwards. Obviously neither of them had expected this, and by the low shriek that could only be labeled as Ginny, neither did she. The two collided with each other none too gently every other second, and a few times they got so squashed they couldn't tell whose arm was whose.
And suddenly, the bus came to such a harsh stop that George nearly mashed his face into the seats in front of him. But Fred had quicker reflexes. He grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and saved his nose from getting broken.
George rubbed his tense muscles and said, "Thanks, mate."
Fred was meanwhile trying to get a kink out of his neck as he replied, "Don't mention it."
"Fred, George," came Lupin's voice. They saw Ginny right behind him as the man gestured for them to get up.
"Thank God," they said together and they spent the next five minutes trying to get over the man. For some reason, it was harder getting out than in. It ended up with George, who Fred had made go first, and Lupin grabbing Fred around the arms and tugging as hard as they could. Fred eventually came loose and nearly knocked George over, but Lupin caught them before they hit the floor. The twins glared at the man before they trodded after Lupin, swearing under their breaths.
Once outside, they all said their goodbyes. "Make sure you look after youself, alright?" Lupin said seriously, and George felt weird being told this by someone he didn't remember. You'd think he would've gotten used to it, but it was still as unpleasant as the first time it had happened.
"Er...sure," George said awkwardly as Lupin shook his hand. He gave him a sympathetic look, another thing George should've gotten used to but didn't.
"And you," Tonks suddenly said, looking pointedly at Fred. "Make sure he's looked after."
George blushed embarrassedly. "I don't -"
But Fred had already saluted her. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!"
She gave them each hugs and Lupin shook Fred's hand while they moved onwards to everyone else. George shifted his weight from foot to foot, glancing up at the school and refusing to look at the two adults.
After all was said and done, they started the slippery climb up to the castle. Hermione was talking about knitting hats for house-elves, but George didn't understand why they'd need them; he'd never seen them leave the school. But judging by the expressions on everyone's faces, he got the feeling that giving them hats was a no-no.
"Well, look at what we've got here," came a leering voice. They all whirled around to find Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle smirking at them.
"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron shot.
Malfoy's sneer got more prominent, and Fred felt his nails dig into his palm. It was all their fault George had to go through so much pain. It was all their fault he nearly died twice already. He was absolutely shaking with suppressed fury, and Malfoy noticed. "Maybe you should attach a parachute to you, eh Weasley? That way your Mudblood brother won't have to catch you the next time we knock you off your broom," he sneered.
George didn't get his chance to reply, because he was knocked roughly aside as Fred charged towards him. Harry, Ron, and Hermione grabbed on to his robes, Harry and Ron more reluctantly. "Say that again," Fred snarled. "Give me a reason, and I swear I will."
"Do what?" he mocked. "Cry?"
"Look you little -" George growled, but an annoying voice cleared their throat behind them.
"Hem hem."
Oh bloody hell, George groaned.
"What is going on here, Mr. Weasley?" Dolores Umbridge asked sweetly, her eyes on George.
Fred tensed something terrible. His brother was starting to have worse luck than Harry. "Malfoy was being a git," Fred gritted his teeth.
She looked positively ecstatic. "Mr. Malfoy?"
"I didn't do anything," he smirked. "They just came and attacked us."
"That's a lie you -" Harry said angrily, laying out such a string of profanities that Dolores' eyes gleamed.
"Detention for you Mr. Potter and you," she looked at George, "Mr. Weasley."
Fred made such an obscene gesture that Umbridge couldn't resist. "Make that detention for both of you Weasleys, and Potter." Fred was surprised; this was the first detention from her he'd ever gotten. But she obviously had something sinister in mind, and it made him uneasy.
George cuffed his twin's head, giving him a hard look. The last thing he wanted was for Fred to join him in the torture session. "Good job, you git."
"I'll see you all tonight at seven," she smiled widely, giving them all meaningful looks, and leaving them all to walk up to the castle.
Classes started promptly that morning, and it took a while for everyone to get into the swing of things. George had already forgotten his schedule, so it was a good thing that Fred was in his every class. Though he was too busy being mad at him to really feel grateful for it.
"Oh, come off it," Fred rolled his eyes after George shot him another dirty look. They were in Charms class and left to partner up to practise a spell. The twins were, of course, partners, but that didn't stop George from making sure Fred knew he was still pissed off. "Are you really getting angry at me because I have detention?"
"Yes, dammit!" George chucked a quill at his head, pleased when it made contact. "You think I want you in there? Are you trying to get your hand sliced open? Really, you'd think you'd watch yourself around her after you found out what she does."
"Right, because we both know I much prefer to see you with the scars on your hand," Fred snapped back. "And if I remember correctly, you're the one who's had the detentions with her."
"Yeah, well it wasn't on purpose, you dolt," George replied as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. "I just have horrible luck."
"Really? I hadn't noticed," the ginger responded sarcastically. But then he sighed. "Look, George, we both know it was bound to happen, and honestly, I'm not upset about it. Now she can't make you do two rolls because I'm there to do my share."
"So you do do stupid things on purpose to torture yourself?"
"Merlin's beard, George, why are you so hung up on this?" Fred asked, bewildered.
"Because! I know what it feels like, and it is damn painful, and I..." George gulped, but looked away. He still wasn't comfortable with saying how much Fred meant to him. Even though he did let it slip that one time. But really, did Fred think otherwise? He wondered about this. "Er...nevermind. Let's just get this spell over with," he murmured.
Fred was utterly confused. What just happened? "Um...okay?" They worked for a few moments before he ended up asking, "Are you still mad at me?"
"Yes," George smirked. "Now shut up and practise."
Harry and the twins walked solemnly towards their doom. Overdramatic? Maybe, but that was the phrase that kept repeating in their minds. Save for Fred, who also was thinking of ways to prank Umbridge into oblivion.
Harry looked pale and shaky, and he kept rubbing at his scar. George wondered what happened, and felt a pain flash through him when he thought of what Harry would have to do in detention. Especially when he looked like this.
"Ready to face the dragon?" Fred rolled his eyes as soon as they reached her door.
"I think I'd rather take the Horntail," Harry grimaced.
George clapped him on the back. "Sorry, mate. Better get this over with." He knocked on the door and heard the telltale sound of Umbridge's sickly sweet voice beckoning them in.
The three of them walked in, and Fred instantly noticed that there were only two quills set up at a desk with a roll of parchment each. He found this amusing. Did she forget about me? he chuckled to himself.
"Hands," she asked briskly. They held out their hands wordlessly for her inspection. "Wands."
They all looked a little surprised; she'd never confiscated their wands before, but perhaps it was because the two most devious pranksters were in her office.
Her smile turned downright toadish as she said, "Potter and Weasley," she pointed out George so Fred didn't get any funny ideas, "set up at the desk."
"What about me?" Fred asked rudely, but she didn't answer right away. She had set up the desk, he realised more clearly, so that they faced both her desk and a lone chair. George sat on the left, while Harry sat on his right.
"Oh, you will be doing a rather special job," she replied happily. Umbridge grabbed a rag and a bucket and forced it into his hands. "You see, it gets rather messy in here with all the detentions," she wrinkled her nose in what Fred thought was the ugliest way possible. "So I need you to clean up for me."
Fred didn't get what she meant. "So...what do I clean?"
Umbridge looked even more ecstatic that he had to ask. "Oh, I think the mess with start to come when those two start to write."
It clicked. Fred looked horrified, disgusted, and outraged. "You want me...to mop up my brother...and...and Harry...while they bleed to death?"
Umbridge simply smiled. "You should have known not to cross me, Mr. Weasley. Bad students deserve to be punished."
Fred gritted his teeth. "Punished. Not tortured."
She turned away from him and saw that neither Harry nor George had started writing. George was sick to his stomach when he realised what Fred would have to do. He had to get him out of detention. "Professor Umbridge," his tongue rolled around, trying out the word 'Professor' before the word for all things evil, 'Umbridge.' "What if I -" he tried to say, but he got a face full of rag.
"Shut up," Fred hissed. He knew what he was about to offer, and he was not having it. Besides, he had a plan. And he made sure he sent a harsh look in Harry's direction, because he did have a 'saving people thing.'
Umbridge smiled maliciously, so much so that it didn't even really count as a smile. "You both know what to write. Begin."
Harry and George exchanged looks, before they took a deep breath and slowly began slicing open their hands. Fred was forced to sit in front of them in the lone chair, and watch them do it, waiting for when a 'mess' had to be cleaned up. It was so inhumane, so outrageously evil, that Fred had to wonder how it could fit in such a short, stumpy body.
The two students worked with blank expressions, their faces hard as they struggled to not show any emotion. But once in a while they would slip up, and a flash of pain would shoot across their features before it was quickly diminished. And it wasn't too long before Fred was needed.
The blood from their hands were starting to fall on to the desk. Fred had to swallow to keep himself from vomiting as he walked forward and cleaned it up. But each time he would whisper hurried words of encouragement or promises like, 'I'm sorry,' 'Hang in there,' and 'We'll get her back.'
But soon, Fred's plan came into action. A loud explosion sounded and people started screaming and banging on Umbridge's door. Alarmed, Umbridge rushed forward, but not before telling them to keep working, and disappeared. Immediately, Fred jumped forward, giving the two of them the rag before he grabbed their quills.
"Let me finish them," he said quickly, "and don't argue or I will personally prank you both so hard, you won't know what happened until a month later."
Harry, who was farther along than George, reluctantly allowed his paper to be tugged away, seeing the honest truth on Fred's face that he would follow through on his threat. He wrote vigorously, shocked by how much it stung, and managed to finish the last third of Harry's roll in record time. Since this was the first time Fred had ever used the quill, and he didn't have any injuries to make his body weaker, the words healed over each time, and no blood was spilled.
George was a bit more stubborn. But after he was tackled to the ground, he gave in. George had about half a page left to write, maybe a little less, but Fred worked even faster, knowing they had a limited amount of time. The two didn't watch, but tried to nurse their wounds as best they could with the rag in front of them.
Fred, pent up with anger and frustration, barely could feel the sting anymore as he scrawled across the paper. He just hoped she wouldn't make them do a second roll.
He finally finished and shoved the quills and rolls back towards them, scooting his chair back to his original position. Which was good, because not a few moments later Umbridge came storming in. George and Fred's handwriting was basically the same, but Harry's and Fred's were different, though Fred didn't concern himself about this. The writing was bound to get messy enough that it hardly looked like their usual handwriting anyway. The back of Fred's hand was a little irritated, but very soon there'd be no evidence whatsoever that Fred was ever near the quill.
"I know one of you two did it," Umbridge hissed, glaring at Fred and George.
George looked absolutely perplexed, and Fred didn't find it hard to match his expression. "What are you talking about?"
Umbridge took out her wand and pointed it at George's face. "You know," she growled.
Fred let out a vehement cry and stood up, snarling, "We didn't do anything. We were in here the whole time, and in case you haven't noticed, they've finished."
Umbridge glanced down at the finished rolls of parchment, but continued to say furiously, "One of you got one of your little friends to do it, didn't you?"
"Do what?" Harry snapped, glowering at her.
She stared them all down, tapping her fingers on her arm. "Well, I'm afraid if no one wants to confess, you all have detention until someone comes forward."
"We didn't do anything!" George yelled, balling his fists and jumping out of his seat. "You can't punish us for something you have no proof of!"
Fred felt a weight fall into his stomach. This was not what he planned on happening. This is why you need George, a voice inside his head scolded him. He would've seen this coming. "It was me," he said loudly. "I did it."
Everyone turned sharply to look at Fred, and he was horribly aware at how George's eyes narrowed for a second in skepticism before they went wide. Fred knew he knew that he was telling the truth. Umbridge's looked pleased, however.
"I knew it was you two," she grinned sinisterly.
"Wh- two?" Fred gaped. "George didn't do this."
"You expect me to believe that you acted on your own accord?" Umbridge raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "That there wasn't someone to help you?"
Fred cursed himself yet again. He never did anything without help from either Lee or his twin. He couldn't rat out Lee and Ron, but he couldn't let George serve detention for something he didn't do. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. "Yes," he said, trying to sound as confident as possible.
It didn't work. "I'll see you Weasleys in detention tomorrow. Potter," she looked highly unpleasant at having to say this. "You're free to go."
The three of them trumped out, and George caught wind of the dying smell of Dungbombs and smoke from fireworks. He didn't look or say anything to Fred, but he could feel his eyes on him the entire time. Harry didn't either, but it was most likely due to tiredness than annoyance.
They bade him goodnight before the twins headed up to their own dormitory, still not saying anything. George faced his bed, slowly pulling back his covers for some unknown reason. Fred was practically shaking with nerves. "George, I'm sorry -"
"Why?" George demanded, his voice hinting at suppressed anger. "Why'd you do it? Why must you always -" he stopped himself as he slammed his hands down.
Fred flinched, eyes wide. Perhaps it was his guilt that made him so unnaturally fearful of his twin's reaction, but whatever the reason, he was terrified. "I didn't mean for that to happen, I just wanted -"
"Didn't you think that she'd find some way to blame us?" George demanded turning around to face him. "I mean, really Fred, has the last couple months taught you nothing? And what more, you did it without me! You didn't even mention it to me." He looked hurt.
"You wouldn't have let me do it," Fred argued.
"No, I wouldn't!" George cried. "Because it wouldn't have been worth it! It was one detention, one roll. I could've handled it, but you had to make it worse!"
Fred felt like he just got punched in the stomach. "George, I'm sorry," Fred choked. "I'm sorry I'm the worst brother in the world. Hell, I'm the worst twin in the world. All I've done is cause you more and more pain and I..." Fred blinked several times at the sting in his eyes. When had that started?
George looked at him, surprise etched across his face. Worst brother in the world? "You're not the worst brother in the world, Fred."
"Yes I am," Fred's voice cracked. "I always seem to make things worse for you, and I'm so sorry. And you want to know why I didn't think of us getting into more trouble? It's because you're the part of me that thinks of these things. You're my filter. I don't think ahead because you're always there to do it." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "I get crazy when you're mad at me and I feel even worse when I hurt you, and I...I just...I'm just sorry."
At first, George was stunned; Fred had never said anything like thatbefore. But slowly it started to seep in. He took a few steps forward and hugged him tightly. "I love you too, Freddie," he whispered. "And you're wrong. You're the best twin I could've ever hoped for, even if you are a git sometimes," he laughed lightly at the end.
But he sombered up instantly. "You know, I should really be thanking you right now."
Perplexed, Fred pulled away at looked at him. "Er...for what?"
George gave a crooked smile, looking a bit self-conscious. "You're the reason I'm still alive."
Fred smiled warmly in return. "Yeah, well, I wasn't about to give up on making you go to a Healer."
"No, it's not that," George said slowly. "When I was, erm, unconscious, I was this close," he pinched his index finger and thumb so closely together there was barely at space between them, "to death." At Fred's conspicuous wince, he hurried along. "But then I saw you. Well, an image of you, and you started walking away, and I knew I had to follow. And the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and you were staring at me like I was a ghost." He laughed feebly at the end.
Fred's throat closed up. He made little gaping movements with his mouth, looking remarkably like a goldfish as he struggled to find his voice. He hadn't known...did he really...
"So don't you go off saying you're a bad brother," he smiled sincerely. "You're the best there is."
And before George could really see what was going to happen, Fred engulfed him in another hug, and the older twin felt tears well up embarassingly in his eyes. "I..." Fred didn't know what to say. "I'm glad you're here," he said softly, his voice cracking a bit with emotion as he lay his head on George's. "I don't know what I would've done if you...had you..." He tried to clear his voice, but failed as the tears collected at the brim, threatening to spill over. "I'm just glad you came back."
"Me too," George whispered whole heartedly. But he pulled back to give him a look. "Although, if you ever try to replace me for detention or try to help me with it or do anything like that again, I will prank you so hard you won't know what happened, got it?"
Fred gave a breathless laugh. These past few months he'd been so afraid of losing him. That George would hate him or, God forbid, he would die...but now, at least, he knew the former would never happen. "Got it."
George smiled, but cast a glance at all of their roommates. "Man, they are seriously heavy sleepers. I mean, we could do -"
"- Downright anything to them and they'd never even notice," Fred finished for him, grinning. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
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