Hello, readers. This is written for The Houses Competition.

House: Hufflepuff

Category: Drabble

Prompt: "Tomorrow [word]"

Word count: 898

This is written in George's perspective, just so you know.

~Blue Rose

I opened my eyes. Where was I? I was in bed, and now I was in a place that looked suspiciously similar to the Gryffindor common room. But it'd been two years since I'd been there, and right now I was on the run with Fred and Lee.

"George, there you are," Fred said, standing up from a chair by the fire. I blinked; I hadn't seen Fred before he had spoken.

"Where… Where are we?" I asked. My brain felt fuzzy, my movements sluggish.

"Where are you? You're in the tent with Lee. Where am I? Somewhere else, I suppose. Somewhere different," Fred said, nodding matter-of-factly. I furrowed my brows.

"I- what?" I asked, blinking slowly and shaking my head.

"You'll understand later, Georgie," Fred said. I rolled my eyes. We were twins, the same age, and Fred knew something I didn't?

"What are we doing here?" I said instead. Fred gestured for me to sit and I did, looking up expectantly at Fred. Fred sighed and took a seat next to me. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

"I have to tell you something important, Gred," Fred said gravely. I quirked my head to the side, waiting for my usually cheerful twin to continue.

"There will be a time when you will doubt everything, including life itself. I need you to remember this, George, that I will always be there for you," Fred said. I scratched my forehead, really confused. What was Fred talking about? How did he know what would happen in the future?

"You're not really Fred, are you?" I asked skeptically. Surprisingly, Fred laughed, and then I was convinced. This is Fred, I thought.

"Of course I am. I'm just not the same one you know," Fred said. I sighed. "I know it's confusing, George. But I hope that one day, you'll understand," Fred said. It was quite vague, but I didn't dwell on that.

"Am I dreaming?" I asked. Fred chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I thought you would've asked that earlier. Of course you're dreaming. The me you know is keeping watch right now, while you sleep," Fred said. I nodded, though it didn't make sense to me at all.

"What happens?" I asked. "That makes you have to come visit me here?" Fred rolled his eyes.

"Merlin, George. Haven't you ever heard the rules of time-travel?" Fred asked. I sat forward eagerly.

"So, you are from the future?" At this, Fred frowned a bit.

"Yes and no. I can't really say anything more than that," Fred explained. Or, tried to, at least. He succeeded in giving me a headache, however.

"I'm not sure I get it," I admitted. Fred snorted and patted my hand mockingly.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Fred said. I scowled, but it was without malice.

"Why is it so important?" I asked. A strange expression, perhaps guilt, passed Fred's face before he smoothed his features into a smile. He looked a little pained, to me.

"It just is, George. You can't give up on life," Fred finally said quietly. I shook my head.

"When am I going to wake up?" I asked, changing the subject. Fred smiled.

"Eager to leave, aren't we?" Fred drawled, twirling a feather in his hand that hadn't been there a moment before.

"The only bad thing is that I have to go back to your ugly face," I said, crossing my arms. Fred grinned at me before he shot up from his chair. He had his head turned to the side as if listening to someone that wasn't there. I looked up at him in alarm.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting on the edge of my chair. Fred nodded twice before he looked down at me.

"It's okay. I have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow?" Fred asked. He looked faintly amused. It was on the tip of my tongue to say agree and say, "Tomorrow" back, but everything faded to black before I could say anything.

~BR~

Two Years After Fred's Death

I looked down at Fred's tombstone with tears in my eyes. I wiped them away and knelt, putting a hand on the cold stone. "Mischief Managed" had been carved into the stone in small letters by someone, presumably Harry, above the words "Son, twin, prankster." I was glad for them, because Fred would've liked them.

I put a flower, a white rose, next to the others there. I sat down, my back against the stone and rested my head back.

"Angelina's been really great, Fred. She's been helping me with the shop, and even with cleaning the apartment." I knew it was stupid to talk to a dead person, but I just couldn't let myself sink into the silence. If I did, as my therapist said, I might retreat back into myself and become depressed again. I hated that feeling, like you were so empty, but at the same time, you were so full of emotions. It was an aching in my heart, a twisting in my stomach, a void where my soul should've been, and I didn't want to feel it again.

I sighed and stood, brushing leaves off my robes. I reached out and patted the tombstone like Fred used to pat my arm.

"Tomorrow," I promised. One day at a time, one step forward, a fresh rose. Always tomorrow.