Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me.
IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, I didn't want to explain as to why George had died, because I don't think any death is worthy of either of the Weasley twins so I'll just leave that bit up to your imaginations. Also, be forewarned, I wrote this at 4:00am this morning, and I still haven't slept, so it may not be that great and there may be a few minor grammar problems. I apologize in advance. :)
The moment George heard the voice from behind him, he felt as if he were finally whole again, after nineteen years…it had been so long, so very long since he heard that voice. He felt a sudden weight as someone tackled him from behind, their hands clapping playfully over his eyes. George felt the tears that had been threatening to fall smear over his face. The man on his back laughed, a slight guilt audible behind it. "George, you're such a baby."
Hardly daring to believe it, George reached up and took hold of the thin wrists over his face and pulled them down, blinking the free tears from his eyes. "Fred…" his voice was barely a whisper, but Fred seemed to hear him. He rested his head onto his brother's shoulder and dropped his arms around his neck.
"'Missed you too, Georgie." He said softly. "It's been a long time."
"I never forgot you."
George said this hastily; as if he were worried Fred would ever think differently. He turned to look his brother in the face to see he was staring at him with a slightly bemused smile on his lips. "I know, Georgie. I know." It was obvious that he meant it in his voice, but that didn't seem to ease George's guilt.
"Not a minute went by, Fred. Not one minute. It's been like I've been missing half my soul for the past nineteen years. I could never forget you, Freddy. Never. You were always with me. I promise." He spoke frantically, and Fred was absurdly reminded of Hermione Granger.
"I felt so lost." Fred's smile faded when he realized how serious George was being. He planted his feet back to the floor and George took the opportunity to turn around and throw his arms around his brother's shoulders. "I felt so lost." he managed to repeat before his tears developed a voice and he began to sob into Fred's chest.
Fred was flabbergasted. He stood with his arms still loosely around George's neck; his eyes gaping widely at his twin. "George…" He wanted to tease him, make fun of him for acting this way, but he didn't have the heart. He reached up and patted his brother gently on the crown of his head. "George, I know." he assured softly, "Why else would I have a nephew with my namesake?" George looked up; tear streaks leading from his eyes to his chin and a puzzled look on his face. Fred rolled his eyes. "You said it yourself, you dimwit. I was with you. The whole time." That only seemed to confuse George further. "C'mon, Georgie. You can't expect me not to keep an eye on you. You're my brother. And just between you and me," he leaned forward to whisper in George's ear, "You're my favourite."
George startled, realizing for the first time that his left ear had recovered on the side of his head. It felt strange to be there after so long without it. It took a moment for the words Fred spoke to actually sink in. "So, the whole time? You were there?" Fred nodded.
"Every minute, George. We're twins. You should know we can't be separated." Sighing, Fred sat down on the floor, and George quickly followed suit, facing him, his eyes still disbelievingly happy. "The big guy told me I couldn't interfere with your overall 'plan,' but did you notice the little stuff?" George's forehead wrinkled in an effort to think of something, and then a sudden realization crossed over his face.
"Those unexplained little messages that were drawn in the mirror after I'd take a shower?" Fred nodded gleefully.
"Guilty. All hail Saint Weasley was my favourite. Thought you'd appreciate it." George laughed, though he remembered feeling quite nervous every time he had walked out of the shower for the past two decades. "And every time your house keys went missing." Fred added proudly, pointing to himself enthusiastically, "You thought you were going mad with that, didn't you? I think I may have done it a few too many times. Oh, and that one day when every time you used your wand to do something it did the opposite, like dirty the dishes and fill little Freddy Jr.'s nappy?"
"That was you?" George looked like he was trying to seem annoyed, but he couldn't help the wide grin spread over his face, "God, I almost bought a new wand that day." Fred was beaming at him.
"It's been quite a long time since I've seen that smile." He muttered offhandedly. George felt vaguely guilty. Now that he knew Fred had been watching, he felt as if he should've been trying harder to be happy. As if Fred had read his mind, he suddenly pulled George over to him, placing his chin back onto his shoulder.
"I do wish you hadn't cried so much." he said it with a bit of a humorous air, but they both knew he was serious. Before George could answer, Fred interrupted, "At first I was frustrated with you, but then I thought that if you had been the one to–" Fred didn't finish his sentence, and George felt the arms around his chest slightly tighten their grip. "I'm sorry, George." and George tried not to hear the desperate tone in Fred's voice, "I didn't mean to leave you alone." George sighed and leaned back against his brother's chest.
"It doesn't matter now." he said truthfully, "And anyway, you didn't, did you? You said it yourself, you dimwit. You were with me the whole time."