"Living was struggling to do something impossible - to succeed, or die, knowing you had tried!" (Dragonriders of Pern, pg 139)
"Looks like it's that day again." Came a somber voice.
A boy with striking red hair and freckles looked up from a table where he'd been dealing cards out to another wizard; younger than him, with mousy hair whose name was Colin Creevey.
"Yeah, I know Lily, I know!" the redhead answered sounding annoyed. He turned back to Colin and continued dealing the cards. Colin didn't speak up, he knew better than to irritate Fred on his death day - which happened to be Colin's death day, as well as many others – as did most of the other people who knew him. Although, it seemed that today Lily had decided that she would try to speak to him for once. She really shouldn't. Speaking to Fred Weasley on May 2nd in a way that was sure to irritate him was almost like a taboo that most tried to avoid. They didn't avoid it out of fear (although, perhaps some did, for the fear of being on the wrong side of a nasty prank planned out by Fred was not something to be desired) but rather, out of respect for his feelings. He wasn't typically a sensitive boy, but he could lose his temper on this day rather quickly, and if he marked you down, he'd be sure to follow through with his threats.
"Well, don't you think you should go see him? He's your brother after all." Lily decided to press him. She didn't realize he didn't really need persuading to go see George.
"He's my brother?! I had no idea. Really, thank you for that bit of information!" Fred snapped in a very un-Fredlymanner.
"Fred! There's no reason to get sarcastic." A third person growled at the redhead, he had messy black hair and hazel eyes.
"Sorry James, I just…" Fred didn't finish his sentence, deciding instead to let it trail off. He'd never been great at expressing how he felt anyway.
"It's alright. So are you going to go or not?" James inquired.
Fred didn't reply, but instead busied himself with examining the table with feigned interest. On any normal day, Colin would have asked him to continue dealing the cards out so they could finish their game, but instead he decided to stay silent, and watched the former infamous prankster with apprehension. Colin, like Lily, James, and so many other wizards who knew Fred, was slightly concerned. Next to James, and his two best friends Sirius and Remus, Fred was perhaps the best prankster around with his twin George. The only problem was that Fred was quite dead, while George, however, was very much alive. The other dead souls had felt bad for Fred, and knew that twice a year he would float back down to earth, silent, and invisible, to sit in the graveyard with his twin (what they didn't know was that he tried to talk to George, and pushed the rules to see if George could hear him). It was against the rules, but Fred never had listened to rules and none of the other souls had felt like forcing him to obey this particular one. Fred and George had been separated by the war, and it was a miserable site to see one without the other. Although they both got over it faster than anyone had expected, there was always a lingering sadness in their eyes that had never been there before.
Fred was often irritated by their concern and pity. They were all dead also, they'd all left loved ones behind as well, they all had unfinished business left on earth, so why should he be special? Fred and George never had minded being special, being in the center of attention; but Fred didn't like getting attention if it meant he was being pitied. He'd fought in the war, and he'd seen his brother Percy apologize to the family, and come back to them. He even died laughing, which was something he had always wanted to do. Despite the fact that he'd been killed by a wall, he thought it was a pretty note-worthy death. He felt that this was not cause for sympathy and that the others really shouldn't waste their time pitying him. The only major problem he had with his death, was that he left his family and friends behind to be sad, and most of all, George. He hadn't meant to cause them all pain, and he hadn't died on purpose. If he had his way, he'd still be there cracking jokes and making fun of everyone like he used to do. However, he didn't have that choice, and he could only watch while everyone cried over him, and mourned him. He wished they wouldn't. It got tiresome after a while. It was rather boring also. Fred had wished many times that someone would just blow something up for the sake of destruction, everyone laugh about it, and get on with their lives. Finally, George seemed to get his brainwave, and did just that on Fred's funeral. He'd set off some Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz Bangs at the funeral, and blew up the original tombstone (partially because he hadn't thought the wording appropriately expressed who Fred was, and partially just because he wanted to blow something up) and made several jokes, he even said something about how Fred was now the 'holy twin' and how he was so, 'saint like'. Fred had been rather amused by that, and he'd felt better about leaving them behind, even if he wasn't entirely okay with it.
Standing up, Fred glanced around at the others, saying as he did so, "I'm going now; I guess that's not a surprise. I don't want to miss George's opening pun, you know. When he finally joins us, I'll make his life; no I mean death, rather interesting: throwing all his bad puns back at him." Fred flashed the typical Weasley Twin grin and everyone just nodded, not doubting for one moment that he wouldn't follow through with he'd just said. They all knew, as did Fred, that he could watch his twin from where he was. But Fred had never been contented with doing things in the ways of the rules during life, so why should he in death? Besides, he made him feel a bit better to be there with his twin, even if George couldn't see him, couldn't hear him, and couldn't be comforted by him.
Fred closed his eyes, and thought hard of where he wanted to go, rather than who he was going to meet there. He didn't want to think about the grief that George would greet him with before he had too. Oh, how it irked him that he could no longer speak to George, else Fred would be sure to scold him for his rather depressing demenor (even if Fred did understand where George was coming from). He spun around quickly pushing the grim thoughts away. When he opened his eyes, the sun was rising, and there was a faint pop. 'Ah, George's just arrived. Good thing I didn't miss him.' Fred thought to himself. He watched as George picked his way threw the old tombstones that had been there long before Fred's (even stopping to apologize on one he'd accidentally stepped on), and he smiled at George's newest greeting.
Even though George couldn't hear him, Fred answered, "Thinking? When did you ever do that? Well, you've certainly lost your touch, mate." He chuckled a little, and watched as George began to trace his name. Fred's smile disappeared as quickly as the Golden Snitch in a blizzard as he listened to George begin talking. George always had something different to say; even it was from the past. It was either something he forgot to tell Fred, or just something he'd recently learned. But either way, he never told Fred the same old news even if Fred already knew it all.
George got to the part about the Burrow being busy, and Fred laughed, "Yeah, it always was the center of everything. Never felt like anything could penetrate it, you and I. Not dark wizards, not war, not death. I guess we were wrong, it mustn't have felt like home, after I died." Fred didn't know why he said that. But it was true. Fred knew that George had hated the Burrow after he'd died. It, in sense, hadn't felt like the bright, warm place it had been from their childhood – when they'd both were still alive. Fred knew that George wasn't the only one who felt that way either. All the others, even Harry and Hermione had felt the change in the house. Fred knew that they all felt it would be empty without his and George's random pranks going off at any time. Of course, they hadn't reckoned on George making a quick rebound like he had.
'No. George hadn't been happy, not for himself, only for the others. He hasn't been properly happy in 12 years' Fred reminded himself painfully. It was true. George had realized that the more he shut himself away, the worse he was hurting his family, because even though he was there physically, they felt as though they'd lost both twins. So George had come back with more vigor than ever, even if it was mostly for show. Fred knew that George had put on a brave face for the world, even though inside he felt like he was half dead. It was true, of course, that George had found himself a wife, and had kids, just like he and Fred had always planned they would do, but he wasn't entirely, 100 percent happy the way he used to be before The War. George would probably never feel that way again, and Fred didn't blame anyone for that except himself, Voldemort, and Rookwood. It had hurt Fred to watch George pretend to be perfectly okay after his death, and struggle through when he should have been there to make George smile again. Of course, he couldn't do that because he was dead, and that knowledge only hurt Fred more. He might have not been in any physical pain, but the thought of George moving on with life even though he lost half himself, the thought of him reopening the joke shop alone and walking it's darkened, dusty room, cleaning the shelves made Fred feel riddled with guilt and it made him feel miserable as well.
What the others didn't know (the others being those who were living) was that Fred was suffering too. If George couldn't be apart from his twin in life, what made you think that Fred could be apart from George in death? Fred had been just as miserable as George had been, moping around, not the bright flame of laughter or the bringer of wisecracks that he had been in life. It wasn't until he saw George laugh again, and try to fight through the grief, and move forward that Fred pulled himself out of his misery and tried, for George's sake, to be happier. He'd hung out with the Marauder's (well, James Potter, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Peter Pettigrew was not a Marauder in any of their opinions, not anymore anyway) and he'd pranked nearly all the dead that he'd once known. Fred had even gotten around to pulling the ultimate prank on Merlin of all wizards. Fred had only been slightly disappointed that Voldemort wasn't there so he could make his death worse. Honestly, just imagine being cooped up in the after life with one of the over-zelous Weasley Twins, especially when they hated you with a vengance and were now dead because of you and were thus seeking to make you miserable.
"Where's Voldy? Can't wait to joke about him, maybe I'll be able to kill him again." Fred had said cheerfully glancing around. He hadn't been afraid of his death, in fact, he'd accepted it. When he'd fought in the war, he realized that he'd every chance of dying. Fred had decided that what he was fighting for was worth it, and if he had to surrender his life for a better tomarrow, to contribute to Voldemort's death, then so be it. The only thing he hadn't counted on, was leaving George behind.
"The Dark Lord won't be here, we haven't won the battle yet. We shall know when the Order has won, and untli then, you cannot expect the Dark Lord to appear here in the afterlife. That fact aside, how do you expect someone whose soul has been severed to become as a full soul in the land of the dead?" his old potions teacher, Severus Snape had demanded of him.
For a moment, Fred had been tempted to point out his professor's use of the word 'severed' when that was very similar to his name, but decided against it and said, "Simple. I don't really care how, I just want it to happen to I can bore him to death!" It wasn't until after he'd spoken that he'd realized what he had said.
"In case you haven't noticed, we're all already dead!" Snape reminded him, none too kindly.
"Yeah, I know that, professor, but that doesn't mean there can't be a death for the dead, right George?" Fred called to his twin, more out of habit than expectation. He paused, waiting for George to back him up, and there was only silence. It hadn't really hit Fred until that moment that George wasn't there. He spun around, "Hey! Where's George?!"
"Oh, he's still alive" Sirius Black told him, looking slightly uncomfortable at being the bearer of this news.
"He's…alive…as in, not here?" Fred asked, unable to keep a note of panic out of his voice.
"Er, that's what 'alive' insinuates" Sirius replied, still looking uncomfortable while the others watched in silence, wondering how Fred would take the news.
Fred didn't respond immediately, he just looked away, thinking hard. Quickly he and many others left for the living world, to watch the final battle. Fred was silent through the whole spectical in the forest, through the whole Voldemort/Harry/Elder Wand confrontation in the Great Hall. He couldn't decide if he was glad or not that George was alive. After all, he'd always figured that if one of them died in the war, the other would surely die as well. He hadn't thought of possibility of only one of them dying. Fred thought of how George must be feeling right then, lonely, in shock probably, that was how he felt. Fred also thought of everyone else, how they would react. Sure, they wouldn't take it as bad as George, but this wouldn't be a victory lap around the qudditch pitch for them either. Fred would later feel bad for hoping it, but he wanted George to die too, seeing as there was no way he could go back, so they could still laugh together. But he knew that was wrong, because the rest of the family needed George there because he couldn't be there: the thought of George having to make jokes on his own and leave his sentences unfinished made Fred feel uneasy. It wasn't until the realized that he too, would have to make jokes and leave sentences hanging in midair for George to finish that he felt slightly less joyful than he had been feeling moments prior.. He hadn't done anything without his twin, well nearly anything, and he certainly didn't want to start now.
Fred sighed and watched as his twin fell silent and bowed his head, this time not speaking up again. He had a feeling George was going to fall asleep, but he couldn't really blame him. The joke shop was a demanding business, and coming here to early in the morning wasn't all that much of a thrill and it was a killer on what little sleep time George got. Fred took his usual seat next to his grave, and poked George on the head, knowing as he did so that he was breaking some rules. He honestly didn't care.
"Worse than a muggle, you are." Fred scolded him, "they say all the time that Muggles don't look for magic, so they can't see what's in front of them. But living wizards are just as bad. If you looked up, listened carefully, you'd be able to hear me. But nope, I come here, ready to talk to you every year, and you ignore me! It gets rather irksome after a while, you know. Maybe I'll just stop coming down." Fred pushed his bangs out of his face. They'd been that way for 12 years. The thing about being dead was that you couldn't change your appearance, and it bothered Fred to no end. Despite the fact that he was dead, he had wanted to keep his looks like George's, but much to his dismay, the dead can't do that. Fred reflected on a time after the war, when George would have actually listened for Fred, to hear him and what not. But about four years after the war, Angelina had convinced George that nothing could ever bring Fred back and there was just no possible way that Fred could contact him. Fred poked George harder on the head as he thought about Angelina: Angelina, who had been his girlfriend before he died, was now George's wife. They now had two kids, Fred (named after him of course) and Roxanne.
"You're going to have to have a word with Fred, dear brother, but by that I don't mean me…although it would be nice if you responded to me every once in a while. No, what I meant by that was your son!" Fred decided to tell George, "He might have my namesake, but he's turning out to be a bit too much like the way I remember Percy being at that age! Imagine if someone with my name became a prefect…or worse a Head Boy! The shame, George, I don't think I'd be able to bear it." Fred clutched at his chest dramatically, before continuing, "But of course, it could be worse. He could be put in Slytherin. But not all Slyther's are bad. Regulus, Sirius' little bro, he's actually kind of. Well, I don't know exactly what he is, but he's certainly not a git like the rest of them. Snape was a good guy, Harry told you that, and it still blows my mind. I can't really imagine him being on our side. The way he stalks around like an evil overgrown bat!" Fred had always disliked Snape, and still did. It had been Snape who had given Fred and George most of their detentions during their time at Hogwarts, despite the fact that they were both rather accomplished potion makers, "yeah we weren't a bunch of dunderheads, showed them all up, didn't we, George?" Fred remembered how everyone thought that he and George were dumb, unlike their brother's who had come before them. No one had realized that their pranks were actually very cleverly thought out, and it took some brains to be infamous jokesters like them.
Fred quieted down for the most part, and watched his twin as the hours passed and the daylight began to fade into twilight, threatening to envelope the world in the darkness of night. When the time reached 7:00, Fred blew on George's head, very much the same way that Peeves had once woken him up at Hogwarts. It worked, and George woke up.
"Well, I guess that's it for this year, brother mine. I'll see you in 11 months. Hah, isn't this a grave parting of ways? Yeah, I know, I'm working on it. Well, until next time, I suppose" George said as he stood up.
"Pathetic!" Fred informed him, even though George couldn't hear or see him, he continued, "Even Hermione could have come up with a better pun that that. Well I suppose you're right, George. I'll see you in 11 months, I guess. Unless you go and get yourself killed in a joke shop experiment, but don't do that. Because if you do, I mean, that's even more pathetic than a wall death!" He paused and said, "I dont know if I've ever told you this, and I know you can't hear me. But, do you remember what Sirius told us when Dad was bit by Nagini? The reason we weren't in the Order was because we didn't understand that there were things worth dying for. I understood that when we went in the battle to fight, and to win. I still understand that, I knew what I was doing, I'm proud to have died for the cause. I lived to make the world a better place, and I died for that same cause. It was a cause worth dying for. You should know that, so stop acting like a stupid sod and cheer up!" Fred whispered, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. He had died at twenty, but he had aged many years in widsom, a fact that was hard to connect with Fred Weasley, despite it's truth.
"Good bye, George." Fred called as George turned away, his expression changing to hide the grief and wisdom that he had gained through death. He paused before whispering very quietly so that his words were lost in the passing wind, "Good bye, for now."
George got the gates and slipped out as quietly as he had come in. Fred saw him turn back and salute the grave, and Fred saluted him back. Fred heard the faint popping sound that signified that George had gone off to see to whatever business it was he needed to do (probably drop by their older brother Bill's house to say Happy Birthday to Victoire, Bill's daughter). Fred looked back at his tombstone, and read the inscription that George had put there. George was no longer there to listen for Fred, but he spoke up anyway, trying to rid himself of the mature things he'd said moments before, "Yeah. Death certainly is an adventure, but, not nearly as much as being alive with you, brother." He recalled what George had told him that Dumbledore said to Harry earlier. He sounded rather put out, but he reminded himself of his purpose, and continued briskly now referring to the tree under which he was buried, "Although I still can't believe they buried me under a tree that has pink flowers." Fred ran his hand over the smooth stone, and without another word, he too left the scene of the cemetery, the only place he could come and talk to George any more, the only place that really still connected him with his dear, living twin.