This chapter is probably my last (unless anyone can give me a good idea for a main character for another chapter!) and it's about George. I know, I know, George, he's so overdone and angsty, but do you know what? That's why he's so fun to write for right now! Also, I wanted to give him a bit of a happy ending, a reason to keep on living. Also, also, he's too much of a loose end for me to just ignore. So read! And review! I promise that the end isn't too sad!
I wish that I could say that no one noticed me as I slunk between the long tables out of the Great Hall and into the faint light of the early morning sun, but I know that isn't the case. Everyone I know is keeping at least one eye on me, either to make sure that I'm still holding up alright, or just because I remind them so damn much of him. I understand, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it. So when I stand abruptly and turn to leave, not even Mum's heartbreaking whisper of "George…please…" can stop me.
I've always been the logical one. Fred was the dreamer, the one with all the crazy schemes. He'd pitch them to me, his partner-in-crime, and I'd figure out just how to pull them off. But what good is the logical one without the dreamer to inspire him? What's George without the "Fred and"? There's something about this situation that defies logic, anyway, and I don't know what else to do but to walk away from my family, to try to sort things out on my own.
I don't cry. This hole inside me is too deep, too profound for mere tears. And I can't stand still, either, because if I do, then the full meaning of what has just happened will hit me all at once, and I'll collapse in on myself, imploding like a dying star, unable to function.
I stalk about the ruined grounds of Hogwarts, taking in the shattered landscape with unseeing eyes. By now, all the bodies have been collected and removed to the Great Hall, but you can still see the evidence that they were here, only hours before. Scorch marks on the trees, little puddles of blood on the ground, a dead spider or two. Without thinking about the possible disastrous consequences or the fact that it should be impossible, I twist and feel my way into nothingness, Apparating to the place I've called home for the past two years—Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley.
The store is empty, of course, and very dark. I flick my wand in the direction of the lamps and they blaze to life, rather more exuberantly than I'd intended, but right now I'm not in very firm control of my emotions. I throw myself down into one of the large squashy armchairs next to the Muggle Magic display and rub my eyes.
The Muggle Magic had been all Fred's idea. I never would have thought that it would have brought in any money at all, but Dad's got friends just like him—weird, eccentric and a tiny bit obsessive. The display is just one more example of Fred's genius.
I grin as I look across the store to the wall of pink. That had been one of my ideas, the line of products for girls. I'd caught Ginny experimenting one evening in the Gryffindor common room back in fifth year and had gotten a sudden brainstorm. Fred, of course, had supported it immediately, and with some of Ginny's help, we'd dreamed up a bunch of products that have been moving very quickly off the shelves ever since.
Or the fake wands! Another example of our collaboration, because the rubber chickens are my trademark, while Fred is—was, I correct myself grimly—was all about the boxer shorts.
The sun blazes on the shop window, the color of Ginny's hair, and I think back to my family still huddled together in the Great Hall. They've all got one another, I think bitterly. Ginny has Harry, Ron has Hermione, Mum and Dad have got each other, and so have Bill and Charlie, since they've always paired up, ganging up against us younger ones—
What about Percy? I realize with a start that I haven't seen him for at least a couple of hours. I suppose that I'm just so used to not seeing him that I don't notice when I don't.
Something glitters in the empty street outside. I hadn't realized that the streets would be deserted until I got here, but most people are up at the school or spending time with the family that they have left, celebrating quietly the end to this reign of terror. Cautiously I rise and approach the window. Peering through, I can see Percy standing on the other side of the street, watching the store front expressionlessly, the lenses of his glasses glittering in the light of early morning. I open the door and step outside, crossing to my brother.
"I used to come here a lot," he says without greeting. "Over the last two years. I would stand right here and just watch people go in and out. I tried to tell myself that it was such a stupid endeavor, that you two would fall flat on your faces, but do you know what?" He looks at me for the first time, and I cock my head in inquiry. "I was damn proud of you," he tells me. "You and Fred struck out on your own in a way that I was never brave enough to do."
"You could have come in," I offer helplessly. Percy laughs.
"You and Fred would have kicked me right back out," he says. "I was a right arse, I'll tell you that much." I shake my head. I'm not in the mood for placing blame right now. Percy shakes his head, too, but I can tell that he is silently reprimanding himself for the past three years.
"Why aren't you back at Hogwarts with the rest of the family?" he asks me. I start to sigh, but it catches oddly in my chest.
"Everyone keeps…staring at me," I explain in a quiet voice. "Not like they do at Harry or Neville. They don't shake my hand or offer congratulations. They just stare. Whenever I walk up, they get this sort of…hopeful look on their faces, like for just one second they think that I might be him. But I'm not." I laugh dryly and point to the gaping hole in the side of my head where my ear once was. "Then they see this and they always start to cry. I had to get out."
Percy nods tightly, and I can tell that he understands. We lapse into silence for a moment or two, staring at the front of the store. It looks garish and slightly bedraggled. Fred and I had had to tone it down when You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters were in power, and our hearts hadn't been into it like they used to.
"It's how he wanted to go," Percy says, suddenly. I look at him, startled.
"What do you mean?" I ask, and my voice sounds harsh and angry to my ears. "Death by wall?"
"No," my brother replies calmly. "He died laughing." I bite my lip, not wanting to admit that Percy is right, even though I know that he is.
"C'mon," I say, beckoning Percy. "Lemme show you the inside, since you've never seen it." I lead him across the street and into the shop. Percy takes in the overflowing shelves and the heaping bins with wide eyes and a childlike look of wonder, and he wanders over to the Muggle Magic display as soon as he spots it. I grin, my first real smile in a very, very long time. Looks like Perce takes after Dad in more ways than he cares to admit.
The shop door is still open, and I can hear the echoes of someone's laughter floating down the street, accompanied by distant strains of music. Celebrations are obviously picking up steam as news from Hogwarts trickles down into the city. I smile again. Laughter. The way Fred would have wanted to go. I look back around the shop, sticking my fingers into the PygmyPuff cage and enjoying the tickling sensation as the little furballs crowd around my finger. Laughter was always Fred's gift to the world, and if I keep on giving it, then my twin will always be with me.
Yeah, it's pretty mushy, and it's not my favorite of the chapters. It's a little too introspective for my taste, but I had to write it, you see. Please tell me if you liked it! That means: Review! Review lots! Please?