I don't own Harry.
"What do we want to be Prefects for?" Said George, looking revolted, "It's take all the fun out of life."
Harry had gone into the forest the next morning.
He didn't know why. He didn't want the ring back. He had promised Dumbledore that he wouldn't go looking for it, that it would stay buried, yet he walked into the forest anyway, as if drawn there. He had learned enough over the past few weeks to trust his instincts.
He peered through the trees and saw George sitting on a hollow log. Harry found this strange. Why would George suddenly come back to Hogwarts after a week of avoiding it? Why would he be sitting in this particular spot? Then Harry spotted in the ring in his hand, and none of the other questions really mattered anymore.
George was twisting the ring through his fingers. Harry hadn't told anyone but Ron and Hermione about the Hallows. Would George know, or guess, what this ring was? What it could do? Was he possible remembering an old fairy tale he'd been told when he was younger?
A whisper from George, and suddenly another person was standing in front of him. Tall, lanky, with many freckles and a shock of red hair, was Fred. George looked at his twin warily, though Harry could see his mouth twitch. "Are you real?"
Fred looked down at his arms, his legs, his torso, "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
George got up quickly and hugged his brother. Fred smoothed his hair as George dripped tears onto his sweater. "I'm sorry," Fred kept repeating, his voice thick, "I'm sorry I left you, George."
Managing to wipe away his tears, George faced his brother. "You promised." He said, in a small voice that barely floated over to where Harry was standing. Fred's ears turned red.
"Yeah, well, I didn't plan on it either, but when a building is collapsing above you there's not much you can do." When he caught sight of George's stricken face he reached out and pulled his brother's chin up. "It's okay, though, really. It didn't hurt much. Kind of like being Stupified, only without the pain when you get up."
George still looked unconvinced. Harry saw his grip become tighter around Fred's arm. "You still left me, left everyone. Mum's been crying all week, dad's all quiet, even Eroll seems depressed."
Fred smiled a little. "You haven't cried, Georgie." His hand floated to George's missing ear. "Seems like you got the short end of the stick, eh? You lost an ear...I'm dead..." Fred suddenly straightened up, panicky. "You were going to kill yourself, George."
George looked like a kid caught in the act of stealing a cookie. "Yeah...but Lee talked me out of it."
"Good for him. You aren't going to do it again, are you?"
George looked surprised. "Well, of course not. You're here now. It'll be like before."
Shaking his head, Fred backed away a little bit. "George, I'm...I'm not really alive. I can't exist in the world like this." He demonstrated, reaching down to pick up a stick and being unable to grasp it.
"You're...you're a ghost then? But I can feel you!" George grabbed Fred's wrist, as if making sure it was still there.
Fred contemplated his brother. "I'm not a ghost. I don't want to be a ghost. They have a horrible life. Anyway, after all those battles, the afterlife is getting pretty full."
"Really?" George looked interested, he sat back down on the stump, pulling his twin with him. "Who have you seen?"
"Everyone." Fred said, matter-of-factly. "Dumbledore. He wasn't too happy with me being dead. Lupin is there, and Tonks. Harry's mum and dad, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Snape. There are a lot of kids from Hogwarts. There's even a house-elf."
George bit his lip again. "Do I sound selfish if I say I would much rather have you here with me?"
Fred enveloped him in a hug that lasted several seconds. "No, I'd want the same. I'm proud of you, George, I would not have held up nearly as well."
Smiling, George stepped back, "Are you...are you going to leave now?"
Fred nodded, "I'll be back, though. I'll find a way." He hugged his brother again, starting to fade already. "I'm watching you, George, don't do anything stupid."
He was nearly all gone now, Harry saw the red hair begin to fade away as a voice called, unnaturally loud and full of compassion and regret. "I love you, George."
Harry gave George a few seconds before emerging from the trees. George's face was streaked with tears as he fingered the heavy ring. "George?"
He jumped, nearly falling off the stump again. "Oh, Harry." He looked back down at the ring.
"You should chuck it." Harry advised quietly. He didn't want George to be plagued with the ring. The last owner of it had committed suicide because of what he saw.
George gave Harry an odd look, then returned his gaze to the ring, then back at Harry. "Yeah...yeah, I think I will."
George got up and walked beside Harry out of the forest. "Did you see that?" George asked quietly. Harry contemplated lying, but finally said, "Yeah, I did."
"Good, I thought I was mental." George took one last, longing look at the ring before hurling it far away from him. It splashed into the black lake and sunk quickly. George continued gazing at the spot where it had disappeared. "I can't do this, Harry, it's too hard."
Harry remembered George's upbeat speech at the funeral. "Just laugh, George. Laugh for him."
I thought that if anyone deserved to find the ring it was George.
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