Passing Through

Chapter 1: the missing and the wrecked

Standard disclaimers apply.

Other pairings: SLASH warning – HP/DM (couldn't resist!), HrG/RW and over-the-top melodrama. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I am so close to crying.

It's a shock, actually, that I haven't cried yet. Six fucking months, and my eyes haven't watered or burned.

But after six fucking months, my insides are now twisted and there's a painful tug low in my stomach. My chest squeezes roughly and something claws up my throat. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself, willing the torrent to pull back. Not yet. Not bloody yet!

If I cry now, it would become real. It's pathetic to think that if I don't cry; if I don't show this weakness…then it cannot be happening. No, no. Never. Not the inevitable because it's not! They're wrong…all wrong…If I just don't cry then he'll come back…

People think I'm brave for it, for not breaking down into little irreparable pieces, but now they're telling me it's all right to cry. Shed my tears and get over it…

Sodding bastards, all of them!

How dare they say I get over it? They don't feel the emptiness I do every time I have a joke to tell that he'll love only to realize he's not there. They don't know how cold my bed is at night or how I pray to a God who doesn't listen for him to come back, to Apparate right this instant beside me and hug all my pain and fears away.

They don't know how it feels to have a fucking part of your soul ripped out!

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit…George where are you?

Molly Weasley was a wreck. How many times had George exasperated her, annoyed her, and frustrated her? And how many times has she, without actually meaning it, wished for George to just disappear for a while until her anger cooled?

Countless.

And now that he was gone, Molly crumbled.

She sat in the kitchen, sobbing into her apron and moaning her son's name again and again. Arthur Weasley stood frozen, facing a blank space of wall and his eyes glazed over. Ron was sitting beside Ginny, who was trying not to cry like her mum. Ron could not stop his shaking.

Bill and Charlie had yet to arrive and Percy couldn't care less about what happened to his family. He had forgotten them a long time ago.

A desperate gloom settled over the Burrow. The usual cheerful and noisy rickety house was as silent as a tomb. The weather, cruel and uncaring, kept the sun shining and the sky perfect on such a miserable day.

A Ministry Auror, Henry Usman, had dropped by earlier to tell the Weasleys the horrible news. Molly had invited him inside and fussed over him, gushing that surely by now they had some cheerful tidings about the location of her son…

Henry, a good friend of Harry, and invariably a friend of the Weasleys as well, couldn't keep the grief from his expression. How was he supposed to be professional when it was a friend of his…

The Auror was about to tell the truth of his visit when he had been interrupted by the arrival of Fred. The sight of him was Henry's undoing. Unable to say it now, Henry had reached into his robes pocket and took out a small bundle. Fred had hurried and snatched it away from Molly's hands, who bristled but did nothing.

Fred had gently unwrapped it, even reverently, when he had suddenly froze and with a disbelieving sound, dropped the contents to the floor before he had fled back to his room.

For inside the cloth had been the bloody, broken fragments of a wand…George's wand.

And now the Weasleys were devastated. The wand was a clear indication that George had been attacked and was apparently either dead or severely injured somewhere, on the edge of death. The Ministry could no longer do anything to help, and had given the family their sincerest condolences.

"Fuck them, they don't care about George or our grief!" Ron suddenly yelled, slamming his palm on the table loudly.

Nobody verbally reacted, but Ginny whimpered and Molly's sobbed harder. Weariness made Ron slump back down on his chair, burying his face into his palms and growling.

Suddenly, the door opened and Harry stepped inside, followed by a flustered Hermione. She immediately went over to her boyfriend, engulfing him in a comforting hug while tears streamed down her face.

"I heard from Henry," Harry said as he went over Mrs. Weasley and gave her a hug as well, which she accepted gratefully. Harry was like a son to her and she was genuinely glad of his presence.

Ron nodded stiffly, hand curling into Hermione's hair. "Yeah. I just can't believe it…George he…" his voice hitched at the mention of the name. "And the fucking Ministry says they can't do anymore! I know he's alive, Harry. He…George just wouldn't DIE like that! And we don't even have a bloody clue what happened!"

That was it. It was the first time anyone had actually said the words out loud and the reaction was instantaneous. Mrs. Weasley pulled away from Harry and ran out of the house, unable to carry the painful burden of losing a son. Hermione, with one hand still around her lover, reached over to Ginny and gripped her clammy hand. The redheaded girl was openly crying.

Mr. Weasley mumbled something and quietly left the house.

Ron stared fiercely at his best friend. "Tell me Harry. Tell me that George can still be found. TELL ME!"

The twins and Ron had surprisingly strengthened their bond when they had been assigned under Harry's Auror team during the war and it was agony for Ron.

Harry didn't know what to say. He was grieving himself, for George had been an important part of his life.

"Ron," he said quietly, "I know this is hard. It's hard for me too. George was like a brother to me…and…" He hesitated, before continuing, "But the Ministry can do nothing more. You know they find missing persons by tracing their magic…and with George's wand broken…they can't even track his magical signature anymore."

Ron's face clearly fell apart and Harry's heart ached for his pain, for all their pain. It was then that he looked around for the first time and found that the person most affected by this was missing.

"Where's Fred?"

It was Ginny who answered between hiccupping sobs. "He's…he…he…he's in his r-r-r-room. Fre-e-e-e-ed is…" She stops, unable to speak properly past the trembling of her lips.

Harry met Hermione's tearful worried gaze and he nodded, standing up. "I'll see if he's all right," Harry excused before hurrying up the stairs to the twins' old bedroom.

All the Weasley children had their own flats now, but because of this tragedy, they had been staying in the Burrow for six months now, when George's mysterious disappearance became alarming. His footsteps echoed in the silence and soon he found himself in front of the twins' door. He didn't bother with knocking. Harry already knew any intruder would be unwelcome at that point.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside, locking it behind him. Then he stopped, unnerved at the completely dead blue eyes staring at him from the bed.

It's strange. The longest time we've been apart, before this,was for a month, when you accompanied Harry on that dangerous mission to save Malfoy. You forced Harry to let you go, even if he wanted to save his lover on his own. I don't know why you did it. You wouldn't tell me and I was so mad when I woke up and you weren't beside me.

Then I had been so agitated when, for a month, there was nothing. No you, nor Harry nor Malfoy. We were all worried. Hermione was a disaster. She and Harry and Ron were so close by then, they were like triplets!

Finally you returned with Harry who was carrying a battered Malfoy protectively. I had wanted to run over and kiss you, to hug you, to absorb you. I've never been so worried my entire life! But I couldn't do it. They were there, so I had restrained myself. But I did hug you and you sodding git, you were injured! While Hermione and Ron fussed over Harry who fussed over Malfoy, I carried you quietly to our room.

In our privacy, I finally kissed you…and it was wonderful when you kissed back.

Then Harry found us.

We were horrified. We knew it was wrong, despicable, disgusting oh what would mum say! But Harry…he just looked at us with knowing green eyes and he wasn't disgusted. He also didn't say anything to anyone as he left.

What was he doing there in the first place?

But now you're gone…no, you aren't gone. Just…missing. You will come back, because I sure as hell won't live without you.

And now Harry's here again.

It was freezing in the room, Harry noted. But Fred didn't seem to mind. In fact, there wasn't a single expression on that face...

Harry's heart squeezed with sadness for Fred. To lose a beloved lover…not just a lover…but a twin as well.

When he had first found out, Harry wasn't shocked. In fact, some part of him had already expected it. Being trained as he was, Harry was exceptionally skilled in noticing things most people would overlook. The signs had been there…sweet, hidden touches, loving looks, the shared bed…their incredible closeness made sense.

Harry wasn't appalled. To most people, it would be indeed sickening but somehow, Harry could understand them. His own love life was sensational, especially after his quiet marriage to Draco a month ago. People were just too close-minded. They loved labels and 'norms' but whenever something different comes, they completely reject it.

"Fred," Harry finally spoke, cautiously inching towards the redhead.

There was a brief silence. "What? Are you going to ask me if I'm 'all right'?" Fred laughed humorlessly, the sound bitter and angry.

The dark-haired young man sat down on the edge of the bed, staring directly into the dull eyes without flinching. "No, I already know how shitty you feel."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Honestly? I'm here to talk. Go on, Fred. Say anything. I'm here to listen."

Fred snarled. "What makes you think I'll have anything to say!"

Harry didn't recoil from the fury. "Because you love George."

Then the floodgates opened. Fred's face twisted in pain as tears fell from his wide, despairing eyes. Loud hitching sobs escaped from Fred's mouth as he bit into his knuckles, trying frantically to repress the sobs.

Harry was immediately by his side, hugging him tightly and feeling tears in his own eyes. He murmured nonsensically, but not reassurances, because somehow, Harry knew George wasn't coming back. Feeding hope into Fred would only worsen his unstable state.

The redhead was clinging at Harry's robes, weeping harshly and crying out his twin's name repeatedly in a hoarse, unsteady voice. It was heartbreaking to listen to Fred, the one who was always so cheerful and with a ready joke to cheer anyone up. Now he was the one broken.

The war was over and we were finally happy and safe. We didn't want anyone else to know, mostly because they would not understand and try to separate us, but also because we like the peace and solitude.

And then there was that night. You were acting so strange. I was worried, but then again, we have always been strange, even as children. You had been quiet, staring at me with that wistful look in your eyes.

I had asked you what was wrong. But you wouldn't answer and instead had embraced me, gently, lovingly. I returned the hug, feeling more concerned now. You were subdued and I had felt something akin to sadness in you.

Why?

Then that night, as we kissed and made love, there had been an intensity in you that scared me. I asked you afterwards but you just cuddled deeper into my arms and sighed quietly. Then you slept.

If I had known what would happen, what nightmare would befall me, I wouldn't have fallen asleep.

I would have stayed awake…so I could have prevented your disappearance.

Did you go? Or did someone force you?

Answer me, please.

It was about an hour later and Fred had stopped crying. His eyes were swollen and he looked deathly pale. He was leaning against the headboard of the bed, while Harry was leaning against one of the bedposts, facing Fred.

"Feeling better?"

"No."

Harry gave a brittle smile. "Yes, me either."

Fred took a deep breath, clenching his fists on his lap. "It's just…how am I supposed to live without him?" he whispered painfully, overwhelming anguish in his voice. "We've…we've always been together…and I can't imagine…imagine…life without him."

Harry nodded, urging the other to continue.

"When he disappeared I…I couldn't accept it! He was just…just…missing and I'm sure he would come back!" Fred flickered his eyes upwards to prevent his tears from falling again. His voice was choked. "But days turned into weeks…which turned into months…I just…" He swallowed with difficulty and wrung his hands in agitation. "I can't feel him anymore, Harry. Not beside me, not in me. His presence is gone…and…" his voice broke "how am I supposed to l-live without his hand in mine? His kisses? Those freckles that I love so much? That…that little noise he makes whenever I kiss behind his ear…Oh god, how am I supposed to live without seeing him again? Without him saying he loves me!"

Fred looked ready to fall apart again and Harry reached forward. But he held up a trembling hand, gulping in deep breaths as his other hand rubbed furiously at his tearful eyes.

"And the worst part is…I look exactly like him! I can't look at the mirror because it's his face I see, not mine! It hurts so much." Fred lost the battle and buried his face into the mattress. "And he's not even here to make the pain go away."

As Fred sobbed into the mattress, Harry placed a comforting hand on the other's shaking shoulder, knowing it wouldn't help Fred. But Harry was lost in his own horrible thoughts, feeling dread in the pit of his stomach.

He couldn't stop the horrifying thought of what if he couldn't be with Draco for the rest of his life? Maybe he would disappear like George, never to return again. Harry bit his lower lip to stifle a pained cry. It was too terrible to think. Harry knew Draco would berate him for even harboring such ridiculous notions but he couldn't fight the tendril of coldness that wrapped around his heart.

Then he shook his head, determined to clear his thoughts. This wasn't about him. Fred was hurting and he needed all the support he could give.

Harry was leaving his reverie when Fred abruptly sat up, his face completely haggard. There was a wild look on his face as he griped handfuls of Harry's robes. "Harry, I think George is alive! He really is! He just wouldn't…wouldn't die like that! Maybe he was attacked. Yes, George wouldn't voluntarily leave, you know. He wouldn't leave me." A desperate smile blossomed on Fred's face. "Yes, yes, that makes complete sense. I think someone who has a grudge against us abducted him. Because of the war, you know. Then…then…the bastard deliberately broke George's wand and splashed blood on it to make me believe he's dead. But oh ho, he isn't!"

He let of Harry's robes, pushing the younger man abruptly away, and jumped out of bed. He strode purposely to his wardrobe and flung it open, taking out an armful of clothes. Harry climbed out of bed, watching Fred worriedly.

Fred grabbed his wand and pointed at his trunk, then whispered a charm that had all his clothes dumping themselves into it.

"Fred."

He ignored Harry. He pulled on a robe, not bothering to change his shirt, which was drenched in his tears.

"Fred."

The redhead gripped his wand tighter and with a little flick, his trunk levitated and followed him as he went to the door.

Harry was behind him.

"Please Fred," Harry pleaded, "don't do this. You know he's gone. He's dead. George wouldn't want you to do this. He would…would want you to move on. Fred."

The redhead suddenly whirled around Harry, black rage in his eyes as he pointed his want at the other man. "Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You don't know how I feel, Harry. None of you do. You can say all of your stupid comforting words but you don't understand the utter emptiness I feel! You still have your husband so don't tell me what I can or can't do!" His face was turning purple with his anger and he followed Harry as he retreated. Fred's wand was pointing directly at the other's chest and Harry's back bumped into the poster bed. He had nowhere to go and he stared wide-eyed at Fred's violent actions.

But Harry didn't blame him. The redhead was completely distraught. Harry could easily disarm the other boy but he didn't. In a way, Fred needed to lose control, instead of bottling his volatile emotions.

Fred's chest was heaving erratically and his pupils were dilated and unfocused.

Suddenly, the door opened with a bang and someone cried, "Expelliarmus!"

Fred's wand flew from his hand and hit the wall. With an enraged cry, Fred was about to hit Harry, his grief consuming him entirely, when Mrs. Weasley hugged her son from behind, whimpering and crying and begging with her face to his back.

"Fred…Fred…oh my baby, please don't, don't, don't. Stop crying, please. Oh Merlin don't!" It didn't matter if she was weeping herself. Her heart couldn't take anymore. First George's death…and now Fred was going to lose his mind if he won't calm down…"Oh my darling boy…"

Fred crumpled to the floor, letting his mum hug him. She followed down and they cried together.

Harry's heart broke again at the pitiful sight. Then he felt someone in front of him and looked up. Draco was there, wand out. He looked extremely upset.

Draco hurriedly went to his lover and engulfed him in a tight hold. "Oh Harry, are you all right?"

With a relieved sob – that Draco was there and always will even if it was terribly selfish – Harry hugged back, just as tightly. The feeling of his lover's warm body pressed against his lifted Harry's spirits exponentially and he buried his face into Draco's neck.

"Merlin, you're so stupid, Harry," Draco was mumbling as he pressed a kiss to his husband's cheek. "What were you thinking, letting him corner you like that?" His voice was chiding, angry.

Harry chuckled weakly. "Fred wouldn't hurt me. He wasn't thinking clearly, Draco. He's hurting," he whispered, angling his head on Draco's shoulder so he could look at Fred and Molly who were rocking each other back and forth, trading tears and wails.

The blonde's voice was filled with sadness. "I know. If I were in his place…" His grip tightened around Harry. "I'd go mad as well."

Harry smiled gently. "Me too."

But movement from the doorway made Harry step out of Draco's arms, although the blond still had a protective arm around Harry's waist.

Ron came into the room, looking completely drained.

Harry realized things would only get worse the coming weeks.

Everyone was devastated by the loss.

They really had all hoped that George would just come back. Knowing him, this must just have been an elaborate prank. But after six weeks, with absolutely no clue as to his whereabouts, and his bloody broken wand found in front of the Ministry, of all places, hope was lost.

It was Harry and Ron who organized the funeral. Ron held himself rigidly the following weeks and Harry stood behind him supportively, helping with the arrangements. Hermione had said Ron already had his breakdown, in their flat the night after George's death was declared official. It had not been pretty.

Since there was no body (another deep blow for the Weasleys and their friends) it would just be an empty coffin under the ground, in the Weasleys crypt a few miles from the Burrow.

Fred had locked himself in his room, refusing to see anyone.

It was a week from the funeral when Mrs. Weasley pulled herself together enough to help. Ginny and Neville's wedding was postponed for a few months due to this tragedy, not that Neville minded. He too, was affected.

There were still so many loose ends to the mystery, but it seemed that it wouldn't be solved with the little clues they had.

And then, the day finally arrived.

Hordes of people attended the solemn ceremony, wiping tears and blowing into kerchiefs. George's family (save Percy), along with Harry, Hermione and their fellow close friends stood in the very front of the crowd. The coffin was simple but beautiful. It was expensive. It was all for George.

Each one of George's family and closest friends stood up to say something about the mischievous redhead and his pranks and his wonderfulness. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny couldn't say anything, too immersed in their tears but the rest held themselves severely until they finished their final tribute.

However, as everyone noticed, the person closest to George wasn't there. His twin was absent.

I refuse to go.

How dare they plan your funeral? You're alive, I know it. They're all stupid. They lose hope and determination too quickly. I don't. I love you and I will find you.

I will.

Stay tuned for the secondinstallment in a couple of days.