In George's Eyes

Jedi Goat

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Well, this is it, the ending you've all been waiting for!

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Epilogue

"You were holding to me

Like a someone broken

And I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now…

We would stand in the wind

We were free like water

Flowing down

Under the warmth of the sun

Now it's cold and we're scared

And we've both been shaken

Look at us

Man, this doesn't need to be the end."

-Ever the Same, Rob Thomas

Fred awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. He lifted himself up on his elbows, blinking sleep form his eyes. Pale dawn light seeped in through the half-open window, dancing across George's face as he stood over his bed.

Yawning, Fred sat up and addressed his brother, "You realize it's Sunday?"

It was the day after the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match; the Gryffindors had been celebrating long into the night.

George only grinned at him, pale blue eyes glittering. "C'mon. I want to show you something – before everyone else's up."

George vanished from his bedside. Fred sat there a moment, mustering himself and running a hand through his messy red hair.

He doubted anyone else would wake at such an unholy, early hour – but after a long moment he sighed heavily and stumbled from bed. He was half-curious as to what George was up to, half not wanting to disappoint him (and he couldn't fall back asleep now, anyway).

George said nothing else as they silently prepared for the day, only wordlessly passing him his cloak.

The common room was eerily quiet, embers burning low in the fireplace, the orange light flickering around the room mysteriously. By the dim light, Fred could see the house-elves had already finished cleaning the mess of last night's party. He grinned at the memory.

For once, it was George who led the way stealthily down the empty corridors. Fred had no idea what was going on, and George still revealed nothing. Fred had long ago given up asking, however; now he just fell into step behind George and watched, alert for the slightest stumble in George's stride.

They encountered no one on the way downstairs (George hopping the vanishing step with well-practiced ease). Upon their arrival in the entrance hall, a faint rumble could be heard from the Great Hall from the dining early risers. As if on this command, George turned off for the main doors. Fred lingered by the Great Hall's broad oak doors, wondering if he could stop for breakfast. Halfway across the hall, George faltered and glanced back at him. The silent question passed between them. Fred jogged to catch up.

The pushed open the main doors and stepped outside, squinting in the sunlight. The snow dazzled a rainbow of colors as if a sign of coming spring. Already the huge drifts were receding, humbling themselves to mere slushy mounds as winter's reign ended.

George sloshed across the lawn without hesitation, carefully picking his way through the melting snow. Fred followed in his footprints, eyes on his brother's back.

They sneaked around Hagrid's hut and into the shady shadows of the Forbidden Forest. Now Fred slowed, wary; George stopped, too, peering through the darkness. His eyes were narrowed in deep concentration.

"Er-" said Fred, uncertain as to whether the seal of silence was lifted.

"In a minute." George held up a hand and took a few steps deeper into the woods. Fred watched with bated breath, planted where George had left him. His quickened breathing clouded the air.

Slowly, George reached into his pocket and removed a green apple. Fred wondered briefly where he'd gotten it – then George cocked his head to one side.

"I know you're there," he said teasingly.

Fred had no idea what George could sense – but a moment later, he heard it, too: the snapping of twigs. He whirled, staring into the darkness and seeing nothing.

George held the apple in his open palm; then he raised his other hand as if to stroke an imaginary creature. If this were anyone else, Fred would have thought him crazy.

"There's a Thestral there, isn't there?" Fred murmured, none the less tense. George nodded.

"Come and pet her, if you'd like."

Fred crunched toward his twin, warily watching the animal he couldn't see. To an onlooker, the scene was weird – beyond that, even – but to Fred it made a strange, ironic sense. George, the blind one, and the Thestral no one else could see…

As Fred approached, George took a step sideways to make room for him. Fred noted the apple appeared to be eating itself in midair – strangely fascinating.

Nervously he raised his hand, reaching out for the invisible Thestral. His hand abruptly met leathery flesh and he jerked back in shock.

"Teyla won't bite," George grinned jokingly. "Here." He left the Thestral - Teyla - to munch on the apple, reaching instead for Fred's arm. Grasping him gently by the wrist, George pulled him presumably to the Thestral's side. He placed Fred's hand on her flank. Fred felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt the creature's breathing beneath his fingers. He narrowed his eyes, trying to picture the animal.

"Your eyes will only deceive you," George said, as though reading his thoughts. Fred smiled to himself. "Try to see with your other senses."

Nodding, Fred closed his eyes and, with a pang, realized this was what George had to do daily. He slowly moved along Teyla's body. The creature had unusually leathery skin, beneath which he could feel protruding bones and thick muscle. Bat-like wings were folded against the Thestral's sides. He rubbed along the Thestral's neck.

"She's beautiful," he breathed, opening his eyes once more. George grinned at him, eyes sparkling with life.

It was kind of like old times, the two of them sneaking out into the forest as they were. The thought of the past no longer pained him as it had, though: now he and George were able to share the memories together and laugh. He no longer longed for those bygone days with as much intensity. Sometimes, though, he would wonder what would have happened, if this never had…

George's blindness had changed them, that was for sure. Eventually, it had brought them closer, made them look at the world differently. There was no going back, Fred knew. Now he didn't mind as much, now that they had set their lives back on track. Even if it was a new track, now, one where they needed to help each other. Though he hated to admit it, George still needed Fred around to help him, and, as he had shown today, Fred had much to learn from him, now that he was willing to share his experience.

Suddenly, the Thestral gave a whinny and George staggered forward. Fred moved toward him, concerned, when something shoved him from behind and he stumbled into George.

"Whoa!" he cried, taking hold of Teyla's back to stay upright. He felt muscles flex under his palms and wing grazed his shoulder. George cautiously raised a hand and wonderingly touched the wing. A smile flitted across his face.

"She wants us to ride."

"What?" Fred burst out, but George was already feeling his way to the Thestral's neck. He pressed his hands against her neck and then vaulted upward, swinging a leg over her back.

"George, what do you think you're doing!" he yelled, panicked.

George grinned, familiar mischief in his eyes. "C'mon, Fred, it'll be fun."

Fred hesitated; he didn't want to see his brother hurt. Then he thought of all George had managed so far. Sighing, and putting his trust in that George knew what he was getting into, Fred mounted behind him.

It was very strange, to feel the Thestral moving beneath him but seeing nothing holding him up from the ground. He swallowed hard and wrapped his arms around George for support.

The Thestral's wing joints were just in front of his knees, bumping against him as she set off at a trot. Fred bounced along, wincing at how bony Teyla was. They paused for a moment outside the forest. Unlike a horse, Teyla was unguided; she had a mind of her own. She turned and headed back into the shelter of the trees. Suddenly Teyla increased her speed. They thundered over the forest floor, Fred unconsciously ducking as lower branches whipped by.

He could see a clearing up ahead, just beyond a fallen log. The Thestral charged for the log obliviously. Fred braced himself, knowing this had been a bad idea.

Teyla shrieked as if in exhilaration and cleared the log with ease in a great leap. In the single moment they were airborne, wings flared out on either side of Fred.

With a mighty beat of her wings, the Thestral rose into air.

It was nothing like riding a broomstick As the ground fell way below, Fred clung tighter to George and gripped Teyla with his knees. The Thestral circled and dived, wind rushing past.

It was, Fred had to admit, nothing like flying as they knew it. The experience was uneven and jerky, but thrilling nonetheless. Fred closed his eyes, enjoying the breath of wind on his face, his hair and robes billowing out behind him. The Thestral's wings beat a steady rhythm against the air resistance, a drumroll that made his heart soar.

Fred smiled.

Their lives would never return to what they used to be – but now they had a new normal. A future that still included their joke shop, Quidditch practice – a future that, Fred knew, needed him to be more patient and to accept George as he was. They had a cautiously rebuilding bond, still strengthening all the time. They had a new life, the two of them, together, and they would make it last.

Fred, George, and Teyla circled upward in the pale dawn light.

The End

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Author's Note: Well, there you have it. My alternate ending to DH (for the twins, that is). To me, this is a story about healing and hope, compared to what was, in my opinion, a cruel writing-off in the last book. As such, to clear up questions: the twins will go on to create their joke shop, and though George remains blind, he can continue to enjoy life with Fred at his side :) And, obviously, DH does NOT happen.

I hope you enjoyed it, and many thanks go out to everyone who read this, and especially to those who stuck with it through my slower updates ;) Please drop me a review and tell me what you thought; feedback makes it all worthwhile!

Thanks for reading!!