Hello, readers! This is written for The Houses Competition.
House: Hufflepuff
Category: Short story
Prompt: "Jumper [Object]"
Word count: 1909
Title: "Everything would be okay"
Disclaimer: I did not write Harry Potter. (I realized that I never bothered to put my name here, only on my profile, and I never mention it on my stories. It's Blue Rose, I'm going to start adding that so you guys know.) Warning: Slash pairing. Disclaimer: I did not write Harry Potter. Happy reading!
~Blue Rose
He was hardly aware of the tears glistening on his cheeks; they were nearly always there. He rubbed the scratchy, deep green knitted jumper between his fingers. He sniffed, his slender, calloused fingers tracing the letter "F" on the front of the sweater.
It was his birthday today. It had been eleven months since the war was over, and people were still recovering from the casualties sustained in the Final Battle.
He should've been celebrating, really. Voldemort was gone, he lived to see his twenty-first birthday, and his business was booming. He had hoped for this day for so long, just… just not without Fred beside him.
He closed his eyes to try and dispel the sudden image of Fred wearing this exact jumper two years prior. It only made it worse, because Fred's laughing face was burned into the inside of George's eyelids.
He wished he could just sleep without tear-inducing dreams plaguing him. No, they weren't dreams of the death he'd seen far too much of. No, they were dreams of a life unlike any other. Dreams of a life of a short, brown-eyed, red-headed man.
Sometimes, it was just Fred smiling his crooked grin. Other times, it was Fred wrapping an arm around Ginny when she was a little girl and had fallen and scraped her knees. The ones that hurt George the most were the ones where Fred was balancing a little girl on his shoulders with a faceless woman by his side, smiling without a care in the world. Where Fred was holding his wife's hand as she pushed the same girl from inside of her. Where Fred was winking at Dean Thomas as Ginny announced her pregnancy. It was the things Fred would never have that made George cry harder.
He slid off his bed and drew his legs up to his chest, not quite sure if it was so he could ward off the cold or to protect himself from the echoes of Fred's laughter.
He stared dejectedly around his dark, cold room with clear vision and dry eyes. He didn't notice when he stopped crying. He eyed the window, watching the rain strike the panes again and again, relentless in their attack. The sound was sharp and loud, filling the silent apartment. George stared out into the dark night, seeing only his reflection in the endless sea of black.
There were no stars, that night. No moon to light the eerie shadows. There was only clouds and rain. Somehow, George thought, it's like the sky had opened up just for him. Maybe each drop was one George himself cried, and Heaven was returning them because Fred didn't want them.
George imagined Fred sitting up there, trying to give him laughter, even after George only gave him tears. You hear that, Georgie? We're finally twenty-one. Your lucky number. And Fred would chuckle, his bottom lip slightly jutted out as his mouth curled into a good-natured grin. The right side of his mouth would raise first, quickly followed by the left. Barely noticeable if you weren't looking for it. Or if you didn't know that face better than your own.
George almost smiled. Almost. He sighed, and heard a knock at the door. He stood silently, walking the short distance between the bed and the door. His feet slapped on the hardwood floor, the sound ringing throughout the nearly empty apartment.
He answered his bedroom door, rubbing his eyes. Harry was standing there, dressed in a dark green t-shirt and black jeans. It was still weird to see Harry wearing clothes that actually fit him.
"Harry," George said, dropping his hand.
"Can I come in?" Harry asked, and George stepped back into the room, Harry behind him.
"What is it, Harry?" George asked tiredly, sitting on his bed. Harry remained standing, leaning on the wall by the door.
"We're missing you at your own birthday party," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah?" George asked absently, picking up Fred's jumper from the floor. Harry frowned slightly, but didn't say anything.
"George," Harry started, then shook his head. He opened his mouth then closed it again, rethinking what he was going to say.
"What?" George asked, perhaps more sharply than he intended. Harry sighed.
"I know how hard this must be for you. I mean, it's hard for everyone, but especially for you," Harry said. George was silent, waiting for Harry to continue. "A mother lost her son that day. A sister lost her brother. But you- you lost half of yourself."
George closed his eyes, putting his face in his hands. God, Harry. You make it sound so sappy. "No. I lost everything that day. He was my everything, Harry. Who am I without F-Fred?" George asked, looking up at Harry through tears. Merlin, Georgie, don't cry.
Harry walked over to the red-head. He sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "George, I know that this is hard. I know you don't want to move on because you don't want Fred to feel abandoned." Harry winced slightly when he said Fred's name. "But trust me, he doesn't feel that way. He has Tonks, and Remus and Sirius." Harry's voice broke on Remus' name.
"Oh, Merlin, Harry. You're supposed to be comforting me, not the other way around," George joked, smiling a bit at Harry. Harry looked relieved, and chuckled. It startled George; he hadn't heard someone laugh in so long. George reached over and wiped away a tear from Harry's face, and Harry flushed. Embarrassed, he swatted away George's hand.
"You won't tell anyone about this," Harry warned, and George threw back his head and laughed. He could hear how broken it sounded, but he tried. Harry felt something in his heart break a little when he heard it, and at the same time, something heal, too.
"God, no. I wouldn't dream of it," George said, rolling his eyes. It's easy to fool people into thinking you're okay, he thought. Harry shook his head and bit his lip.
"George, you don't have to pretend. Not around me. Never around me," Harry said seriously. He took George's hand and George felt his shoulders slump.
"Am I that easy to read?" George joked half-heartedly. Harry gave him a sad smile.
"George, go ahead and tell me what's on your mind," Harry said. His green eyes were dark with an unknown emotion as George sighed and laid back onto his bed. He stared up at the blue ceiling, and suddenly wondered why he painted it a deep blue that matched the night sky.
It's okay, Georgie. Start with that. "Why did I paint the ceiling blue?" George asked. Harry nearly laughed at the absurdity of his question.
"I don't know, George," Harry said honestly. That's what George loved about Harry. He never lied, and he never got him mixed up with Fred, not even when they were both alive. Not even Mrs. Weasley could do that. Wow, it only took you three years to figure out you were in love with Harry Potter, Gred… Can't believe you didn't know why you were so relieved and happy when Harry wasn't expelled… Even I could see it...
"Harry, I miss him so much," George whispered. "I can almost hear him, you know. Laughing and completing my sentences, mumbling jokes into my ear. My good ear, that is," George said, then sighed at his feeble attempts to lighten the mood.
"And what's he saying now?" Harry asked quietly. You gits, I'm not actually there, you know. If I were, you two would get your heads out of your arses and kiss, already. I can't be there to push you together, you have to do that for me. Merlin, you two are hopeless.
"He's telling me to get our heads out of our arses and kiss," George said, turning his head so he wouldn't see Harry's intense green eyes.
"Then why don't you?" Harry whispered. George slowly looked back at Harry, his eyes filled with hope and tears.
"Do you mean that?" George asked, sitting up. Harry nodded, his eyes half-lidded as his gaze rested on George's lips. George felt himself flush, and he leaned toward Harry, his mouth slightly open.
Their lips inches away from each other, Harry mumbled, "I would never lie to you, George." George closed his eyes and brought his hand to Harry's cheek. Their lips met, and Harry put his hand on the back of George's neck, bringing him closer.
Harry shifted closer to George, and George dropped the jumper to the floor, at the moment not caring about anything other than Harry. Not even the letter "F" on the sweater he threw on the floor, or the boy who once wore it.
Harry's hands left trails of fire on George's skin, making him shudder. Harry's lips were soft, unhesitant and not even shy; complete bliss. George had never felt this before. Something so thrilling and amazing. His senses were filled with everything Harry.
"Oh, Merlin!" Ginny squeaked, dropping the plate of cookies and the glass of milk she brought up. George jumped off of Harry. When did I end up on top of him? George wondered.
"Hey, Ginny," George said, straightening his shirt. Harry coughed, his face flushed as grinned dreamily at Ginny.
"I'm so sorry! Oh, Merlin, I'm such a screw-up," Ginny said, her hand clamped over her mouth. "Oh, I wasn't here! Just, go back to what you were doing!" she said through her hand. Her eyes were wide with shock, and she looked like she wanted to move but couldn't.
To both her and Harry's surprise, George laughed. Harry and Ginny joined in, not really knowing what was so funny, but not really caring. And if you listened close enough, you could almost hear Fred laughing with them.
Outside George's apartment, it stopped raining. Fred looked wistfully at the trio, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the scene, chuckling reluctantly with his twin to hide his joyful tears. George, since when did you grow up without me?
George kept laughing, along with Harry and Ginny, not really hearing Fred anymore. But that was okay with Fred. As long as George was happy.
Fred watched as George and Harry left the room and walked downstairs into the joke shop, hand in hand. They didn't spare a second glance at the Weasley jumper on the floor, the letter "F" proudly shining to those who wanted to care too much. It seemed neither of them wanted to look back. And that was okay, because there were no more tears to return, and there were no more clouds to hide the bright moon.
There was only the smiles and laughter, and with that, Fred was finally able to turn his back and walk away, smiling a little as he put his hands in his pockets. He walked slowly to the others, grinning as Lily fussed over the state of his hair. Sirius, linked arm in arm with James and Remus, winked at him as the three men turned to their house. Tonks walked with Lily, chatting about a new recipe she found. Fred glanced around, looking for his young friend.
"Hey, Colin," he said, holding out his hand to the teenage boy sitting on a swing. Colin grinned and took Fred's hand.
"Hey, Fred," Colin said. Fred grinned in reply. Yes, he knew everything would be okay.