A/N: Hello my wonderful, loveable readers! Have I ever mentioned how much I love to read your reviews? It's like a warm fuzzy kitten is sitting on my heart… Wait that sounds kinda weird… oh well… Enjoy the next installment of 'Live, Laugh, Love'!
Disclaimer: The only credit that goes to me is my own characters and ideas; all the rest goes to J.K. Rowling, the brilliant and amazing author that began an age.
When we last left our beloved characters: "I think I'm gonna pay George a visit."
~rAndOM sQuIRrel~
Ron walked up the metal staircase leading to George's flat above the shop, knocking on the door twice. No answer. No footsteps. No cheerful 'Coming!'. No George. Ron frowned and knocked again, this time harder and louder. Maybe he hadn't heard the knocking. Nothing. Ron began to worry. Could George cope without his twin for two months? For ever?
"George?" Ron called loudly, knocking heavily on the door. "George!" Images and horrible thoughts entered his mind, and his breath caught in his throat. He shook his head and closed his eyes trying to clear his head. Not now. Not when his brother needed him. He took in a deep breath and pulled out his wand, but realized he only knew how to get past the shop's enchantments. It would take too long to get past them, and the wards to the flat. No. He had to get in there now.
Without another thought Ron shouted, "Bombarda!" flourishing his wand then pointing at the intended target: George's door. The spell hit the door but was deflected by a protective shield, causing the spell to repel, the door merely vibrating, like a pebble disturbing tranquil water. Ron was narrowly missed by the rebounding spell, which hit a rubbish bin, sending trash everywhere. Ron cringed and turned back to the matter at hand. He had to get in.
Wait a minute… only the door was shielded… he thought. Testing his theory he pointed to the wall, just to the right of the door by a few feet. He repeated the spell, blowing a hole in the wall next to the door. He stepped through and into his brother's flat searching frantically for his brother.
A slumped form with bright red Weasley hair lay partially on the table in the kitchen. Ron ran to his brother's side. He gave a sigh of relief when he saw George's chest heave as he drew in a breath. A small glass half full of amber colored liquid sat next to an empty bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. Two pieces of parchment lay on the table as well as a quill. Ron picked one up and began to read.
To my dearest twin brother George,
If you are reading this I have become either a Joke Shop Legend or a War Hero. Either way I was I martyr to the cause. I never meant to leave you or the family like this though. Whether I died from a tragic testing accident or at the hands of a daft Death Eater I know that everyone will be grieving heavily for their favorite brother and son.
George, I know we have discussed this before but you are to open the shop, when the war ends. Help those like my now grieving family, have a laugh. Give Ron a job if you haven't already, as well as a quarter of my portion of the profits, the other quarter to Ginny, and the rest going to Mum and Dad. Ask Bill to deposit it into their vaults without their knowledge. I want our little sister and brother to never be hindered by money as they have in the past.
Do what you wish with the remainder of my possessions. You know frame my Cleansweep, make a museum. The usual memorials for famous people after they die.
I love you George. And I love our family. I know you lot love me too, I mean who wouldn't love me? Take care of them for me, George. Angelina too.
Remember me always,
Freddie
P.S. Don't forget our bet about Ron and Hermione. I'm sure they have realized life is too short and have gotten together. All winnings go to the lucky couple.
Ron smirked at his brother's cockiness as he wiped his eyes with his fist. Only Fred would find humor in his death. Ron put the paper back on the table and pulled the second piece of parchment out from under the quill and George's hand.
Dear Fred,
I'm not sure why I'm writing this, I mean you'll never read it. Maybe I tell you about it when we meet again.
Anyway Freddie, you're gone. It's hell for me without you, Fred. I was angry with you at first, because you left me. Left me to care for our family. Left me to deal with the shop. Everything fell on my shoulders. We used to be pretty much one person, and now it seems that I'm only half of what I once was.
Today is the two-month anniversary of your death. Mum has been taking it pretty roughly, but Dad has been there all the way. I'm not sure too much about our older brothers; though I'm pretty certain they are pretty cut up. Ginny misses you terribly, though she'll never admit it (You know how stubborn she is…). And Ron… well Ron is now a man. He's brilliant. He's struggling but remaining strong. He's been helping me with the shop and done more for our family than he thinks.
The shop opens in a few weeks and we have been successful with the Dynamic Dessert line of sweets. All of our past ideas are taking form now, as well as a few new additions. I have Ron investigating stuff about Harry for a new line that will hopefully become a huge money-spinner.
The war is over now. The Chosen One took care of that. Like you predicted Ron and Hermione are together at last. From what I heard Ron was a really prat while they were gone, but they made up and he got a nice snog from Hermione during the battle. And that specky git Harry is dating our beautiful sister. I'll keep an eye on him, but Ron is turning out to be like Moody: "Constant Vigilance." I think she's in good hands though. Mum was impressed by his speech that he would rather die than let Ginny be hurt.
Tonks and Lupin are gone too. But of course you probably already knew that. I bet you are partying up there with the Marauders. I am so jealous that you get to have fun with our heroes, but keep an eye on the family when you get a break.
I love you so much Fred. No matter how far away you are I will always love you. I never said it enough when you were alive.
Watch over us until we join you,
George
P.S. The arrangements for your portion of the profits have been taken care of. And don't worry there will be a museum in your honor.
Ron let out a sigh and looked down at his brother, who was passed out drunk on his kitchen table. He felt a pang of sympathy hit his heart. Ron moved to clear a path from the table to his brother's bedroom, pushing away trainers and jumpers.
Ron opened the door to George's bedroom, and was surprised to find it spotless, with the exception on an unmade bed. He examined the room from his spot in the threshold, before entering the room. A sad smile made it's way to his face when he saw a photo of Fred lying on his brother's pillow. Ron turned to his left and saw his brothers' Jack-n-Jill bathroom. He moved closer, hoping to find a hangover potion, for when his brother woke up. Opening the cabinet he found a wide array of alphabetized potions. He quickly scanned the labels and found the potion he was looking for.
As he was about to turn back to George's room, he noticed the door to Fred's old room cracked. He inhaled sharply as his fingers wrapped around the doorknob, exhaling slowly as he opened to door. He walked into his late brother's bedroom.
Everything seemed to be as he left it. Trainers, socks, trousers, and robes were strewn around the room. Ron studied the room, but left it undisturbed. He remembered his living brother in the other room and exited the room closing the bathroom door behind him.
Ron placed the bottle of hangover potion on his brother's nightstand and went back to the kitchen. After several attempts, Ron managed to hoist George into a position so that he could brace his brother against himself and maneuver him into the bedroom. After what seemed ages Ron moved his brother to the bed and pulled the covers over him. He quickly cleaned up the kitchen and tidied the flat, before lying down on the couch and falling asleep.
A voice woke him after what seemed like only a minute after he closed his eyes.
"Oi, wake up sleepy, and get your feet off my sofa."
Ron blinked, the blurred red head coming into focus. He sat up on the couch, stretching and yawning. "What time is it?"
"Eleven o'clock-."
"Blimey! Really? Mum's gonna be worried," Ron said standing.
"In the afternoon," George finished.
"Wait, what?"
"Today is July 3rd," his elder brother told him. George noticed his brother's bewilderment and quickly added, "Don't worry I owled Mum yesterday, telling her you were staying the night here."
Ron gave a sigh of relief and slumped down on the couch, "Thanks George."
"No problem, Ronnie," he responded, walking to the kitchen. "Hungry?"
"Definitely. I haven't eaten since yesterday morning."
"Good. What do you want?" George said pulling out a pan.
"Surprise me," Ron answered, stretching back out on the sofa with a sigh. How can I be so tired after sleeping so long?
"Um, Ronnie? Could I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, shoot," he said closing his eyes.
"Why is there a giant hole in the wall of my flat?" George asked casually.
Ron sat up abruptly, "Oh, right. About that. See I- when you- well I thought-," Ron sighed. "I came to check on you and got worried when you didn't answer, so I kinda went to extremes."
"And you couldn't have just used the door?" George asked scooping the cubed potatoes into the pan, which began sizzling and popping.
"Well I didn't know the code to protective enchantments…"
George frowned, "The whole flat was supposed to have the charms on it-."
"Well, you need to improve 'em. Only the door deflected my spell."
"Hmm," George said thoughtfully. "So tell me again why you were in such a hurry to break down the door, or I should say wall, of my flat?"
"Well, I guess I assumed the worst and…," Ron trailed off.
"And thought I might have done something to myself, because I couldn't live without Fred?" George asked seriously, looking up from the stove, to gauge his brother's reaction.
"Well- I- George you've gotta-," Ron began, stumbling over his words, rubbing his neck looking down at his trainers.
"Ron, look at me." Ron's face showed a mixture of concern, worry and confusion. "Fred was my brother, just as much as he was yours," George said. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but George held up his hand, halting him. "I won't deny we had a relationship different than we had with any of you- I mean we were together for our whole lives for the most part. We were 'Fred-n-George', practically the same person- two halves of a whole, but…," George sighed and looked down at the wood floor, "not anymore. I'm just plain old George Fabian Weasley, founder and sole owner of Weasley Wizard Wheezes.
"Do I miss him? Hell yeah I miss him. Every second of every bloody day, but that doesn't mean I can't live without him. At first I didn't know if I could, but…" George's voice temporarily failed him. He cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath. "Ron, I'm not ready to leave this family. I want to move on, but I can't forget Fred in the process. I just need time. Yeah, sometimes I wish it was me, but it wasn't. I have to deal with this." George sighed, and looked up at Ron. "I'm not goin' anywhere, Ron. You can count on that."
"Thanks George," Ron said.
George nodded as a loud screech pierced the room. Ron stood up and covered his ears, looking around wildly fro the source of the sound.
"What the bleedin' hell is that?" he bellowed over the noise.
"Oh! Just a second!" George answered, grabbing his wand from beside the cutting board and levitating a spatula so it hit a small white box in the middle of the kitchen. The shrieking immediately ceased. George quickly doused the smoking pan, water streaming from his wand.
"What in Merlin's name-?"
"It's a muggle device that senses smoke so it warns you if there's a fire. Dad installed it when we moved in. I think because Mum wouldn't have one at the Burrow, he wanted us to have one," George said. He frowned and showed Ron the charred remains of the potatoes. "I say we eat out, today. What do you think?"
Ron scrunched his nose at the smell. "Yeah I reckon we should."
"We can try out the new eatery in the alley. I think it's called The Dragon Diner," George said grabbing a jumper. Ron followed and rolled his eyes and grinned as George stepped through the hole in the wall. Together the brothers strolled down Diagon Alley, hands in their pockets.
~rAndOM sQuIRrel~
A/N: Thanks for reading! I wrote; Now you review. Please? It would make me a very happy author? Okay… do what you wish… I'll write anyways…but reviews would motivate me to write more… Sorry this chapter wasn't very exciting, but I felt it was necessary to show that everything is peachy-keen after the Battle. It's bugged me lately, so I needed to address it. Anyway I hope I haven't deterred you from continuing reading because of it… I try to mix in a few laughs, so we will see…