Fred pushed his way through the gate, not bothering to close it behind him. This was beginning to become a sort of habit for him. He shoved his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking slightly. With every step he took, the air became much colder. With every breath he took, a shudder was sent through his body. Idly, he pondered why there was air in the after life, for the dead had no need for oxygen. Suddenly, he felt that something was wrong, and looked down at his body. The shock of what he saw was enough to stop him in his tracks.
His body was pearly and transparent. Fred changed the track of his thoughts and now wondered why he had gone from being a perfectly normal soul to being suddenly ghostlike. He looked up and around for any sign or reason for the change, but nothing was revealed by the dark trees that surrounded him on either side, nor in the darkness that pressed in from behind and infront of him. Taking a deep breath, Fred forced his feet to move. He was intriuged to find out that he was not floating, and while he was transparent like a ghost, he was still rather solid. He found this out the hard way as he tripped on a tree root sticking out of the ground.
Upon finding himself on the ground, Fred pushed himself to his feet. He swore a little as he looked at his wand hand which was now cut, and suprisingly, bleeding. He began walking on and to stare at his surroundings once again. He noticed there were smaller, not-so-well trodden paths leading away from the one he was on. He came up to one of them, and it seemed awful tempting. Just as he was about to step over the barrier or undergrowth, a voice cold as winter but warm as summer called to him, "I should not do that, if I were you. You would regret it terribly."
Fred paused, one foot in the air, hands out to balance himself, looking very much like Scooby and Shaggy from those old Scooby Doo episodes when they thought they heard something then froze mid-step.
Fred attempted to turn on his planted foot, but this caused him to become unbalanced, and in a feat of sudden brilliance, he planted his raised foot on the correct side of the barrier, just in time to save himself a nasty fall. He turned his attention away from the path to focus on what was ahead of him.
The source of the warning was cloaked in black, hidden mostly in the black shadows cast by the high trees. Though he reminded Fred of a dementor, the effects of being in his presense were different while they were similar. Though Fred did not feel the hope and laughter leaving him, he could feel a fear creep over him and chill his blood. He couldn't explain the sudden irrational fear that he felt, all he knew was that he felt it. However, he was not about to let Death know that.
"Hello! I've been looking for you!" Fred called cheerfully, his voice sounding small and out of place in the dark wood, although the very trees resented his laugh and joy.
"This I know, for it was I who sent for you." Death responded.
"Say, why shouldn't I go down that path?" Fred asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the offending trail.
"Do you wish to meet Lord Voldemort?" Death asked him.
More out of habit than anything, Fred flinched. Recovering himself, he answered, "No thank you! I guess by that statement that's there the baddies go when they die, eh?"
Death did not reply. Fred squinted his eyes, attemtping to see through the blackness the one he was talking too. When Death next spoke, it was from behind him, causing him to spin around and trip over another tree root and land on the cold ground.
"Do not pretend to be unafraid, Weasley. I do know that you are indeed terrified." Death said to him, "I have also heard through the grapevine, that you, ah, what was it? That you sent your brother back to life?"
Fred suddenly forgot all the plans he had made, so just plowed on, deciding to just deal with whatever happened when it came, "Ouch, that fall certainly hurt the soul of my foot!" Death was not amused by the pun, so he continued, "And yes, yes I did send dear Georgie back to life, Dr. Death. I mean, sure I'm dead, but it wasn't his time to join me!"
"Is that so?" Death prompted.
"Yes that's so! Think about it, now that George gets to live, he'll have kids, won't he? That'll provide you with more souls to reap, which you enjoy so much!" Fred responded.
"You would sell out your twin's family to save yourself?" Death pondered aloud.
Suddenly Fred realized what he said. No! He hadn't meant to say that! He tried to make amends, "Well, you see, since I know they're going to die at some point, because immortality is impossible to achieve, I figured you might as well just understand some logic." Fred wanted to take those words back the moment they were out of his mouth. What was happening? He didn't really mean that! Where were these words coming from?
Death was silent, save for the soft swish of his cloak on the dead leaves that littered the ground. It alerted Fred to the fact that he was moving, and Fred siezed the chance to change the course of the conversation, "Did anyone ever tell you that your choice of dress is absolutely depressing? Perhaps if you dressed in happier colours, people would be less afraid of you. After all, electric blue is a very distringuished colour. Think about it! People would be less terrified if you look less imposing, then they might go more pleasently with you and you wouldn't have to wear that silly old invisibility cloak when you reap their souls and drag them away from their loving family and friends, which you do quite nicely, by the way. Not only that, but these dark woods simply don't do well for your reputation, either. Your reputation proceeds you, you know, for example take Severus Snape, he--"
"Is a man of intelligance and does not define himself by what colours he chooses to wear." Death cut him off. Fred sat there silent for a moment. He couldn't remember any of the arguments he had come up with on the way over. He felt tired, his brain was slowing down, it felt sluggish. The harder he tried to remember the lines he had come up with, the more they evaded him, and yet he knew if he stopped thinking entirely that those thoughts would abandon him anyway and then he would be in deeper trouble. He was suddenly aware of the cold that seemed to have seeped into his non-exsistant bones. Then he felt hands that were colder than the cold he felt now drag him to his feet.
"You will do well to listen to me, now. You shall never send another soul back to life. There are rules which you must obey, as do I and every othe soul in this Afterlife. I have no intentions of breaking these rules for anyone. These rules are old, they were set down long before your precious school. Long before magic, even. I am not entirely sure how your brother, or Potter for that matter, managed to escape me, but it shan't happen again. You shall not help them. Remember this, Fred Weasley, and do not forget it." Fred felt himself being pushed away, and he fell to the ground again.
It was getting hard to stay awake, but Fred was determined. He tried to grasp onto reality, yet it alluded him. He thought he heard Death through the shadows, warning him again with words that sounded clear in his head but were hard to hear otherwise. "Defy me again, and you will not see the day your twin comes to join you, or any of your friends for that matter. You will regret it." were the words Death spoke to him. Fred closed his eyes, finally giving into the sudden and unexpected exausten. The final thing that ran through his head before he lost all concious thought was that Death most certainly was not a pleasent guy, and that he would really have to teach the Reaper a thing or two about humor...
When he awoke, he had no idea what time it was, but Fred was glad to find himself in his cozy, warm bed in his cozy, warm apartment. He pushed himself out of the bed and quickly changed clothes, noticing that the ones he was wearing were covered in dirty, leaves, and a bit of blood. He had no idea one could bleed in the Afterlife. As he changed, he also noticed that he ached all over. What was going on? Surely you shouldn't feel pain in the Afterlife? Fred pushed these thoughts aside as he pulled open his door.
He stepped through it not bothering to close it (really, he would have to rid himself of this new habit), he looked about his surroundings, relishing the warm sunlight that fell on his freckled face. Even the light of the stars could reach the souls of the Afterlife. He began to walk to where he knew the Marauder's were gathered, plotting a prank in his mind that would no doubt be enjoyable to play with (or on) the heroes of his school days.
Fred smiled. He and George had gotten into trouble once again, just like before, but he knew it wouldn't happen again for a long time, but he was okay with that. They had defied death, and really, what was their time apart but just a short while? It was a lifetime before they could laugh together again, but after that, they would have all of forever to as they pleased. To fight, to laugh, to cry. Fred could wait for that, and so could George. However, in the meantime...
"Oi! Sirius! I've got a brilliant idea!"