Moonlight
Sometimes when George looked out of his bedroom window at night, he swore he could see Fred. It would only happen suddenly and was gone as soon as it came. George would catch glimpses of Fred lying on the grass, dancing in the moonlight and sometimes, only sometimes, George thought he could see Fred smiling at him, beckoning him to come closer.
The first night that happened. George leaned out the window and saw Fred standing in the moonlight, smiling, arms outstretched, beckoning him closer. But George quickly shut the window and turned off the light. He thought he was going crazy. Or maybe he already was crazy. Either way, both thoughts scared him. So he quickly dismissed the image of Fred to lack of sleep. And that was that.
The second night, George waited a little longer, before he closed the window. George wasn't sure what was wrong with him anymore. Was he crazy? It didn't feel like it. But the cries of baby Roxanne quickly eliminated all thoughts of Fred from his mind.
The third night, George didn't close the window. He stood there, by the window, gazing at Fred's image. He wanted to look away, yet at the same time, he didn't want to look away. All he wanted to do was jump into Fred's arms and lose himself. He had been dealing with the pain of losing him and it got worse by the day. Sometimes he thought about giving up, joining his other half in the afterlife. Maybe that's why Fred had come back? To take him away from this horrible earth? So he stood there, lost in an internal battle, staring into Fred's entrancing brown eyes. He didn't move at all, until Angelina told him to, 'Shut the ruddy window! It's freezing in here!'
The fourth night was the last night. George sat by the window and watched Fred. Fred spent a little longer outside that night. He danced between the daisies, he climbed up the trees and lay on the grass. It reminded George of the games he and Fred used to play outside when they were little, and a tear slid down his cheek as he realised he would give up anything to play one last game with his twin. Fred got up and started walking towards the window. George knew what he was going to do next, and he was right. Fred smiled and opened his arms, beckoning George to jump into his arms. George gazed at Fred a little longer, at the ruffled orange hair, twinkling brown eyes and youthful grin. Then he spoke for the first time. "C'mon, Georgie. Just do it and we can play together forever…" George gave him one more glance, before jumping into Fred's arms. Fred caught him at the bottom of the window and George wept into his shoulder. After he had calmed down, Fred whispered to him, "You're free, twinnikins, You're free." George cautiously asked, "Can we play now?" "Of course." Said Fred. "We're together forever, remember?" And George drank in the marvelous sight of the boy before him. Deep brown eyes. Fluffy orange hair. Smooth pale skin. Just the way he remembered him, without the hideous wounds he had suffered in the Battle. George touched the side of his head and realised he had two ears again. He gave a short, shocked laugh, before running into the garden, yelling "Can't catch me!" back at his twin. Fred laughed and said, "We'll see about that!" and played tag, climbed the trees and danced among the daisies with George for the rest of the night, until they were both exhausted and fell asleep on the grass in each other's arms.
They found his body the next morning. Angelina had found George's body, twisted and broken on the grass. She had cried when she saw the body. But she stopped when she saw his face. He was smiling. She had never seen him smile like that, not since they were teens. Angelina was heart broken, but she smiled.
And sometimes, sometimes late at night, just outside the window, Angelina could swear she saw two figures dancing and playing in the garden.