Disclaimer: Envision a beautiful, beautiful meadow, with wildflowers gently waving in a soft breeze. The grass is long and sweet-smelling. Now, take a short walk through the meadow. To the edge, in fact. You discover it's on the edge of a precipice, and in the distance you see....absolutely nothing. And that's what my rights to Harry Potter amount to.
They were twins. Everything was always FredandGeorge. They weren't even worthy of spaces between their names. They were more like one person than two. This is how George saw his relationship with his twin. George was a little bit unhappy with this. In fact, over time, it grew to be the most unsatisfactory thing in his life. He loved his brother, yes. They were best mates and more. It was just...underwhelming, at times. He often felt like he wasn't important unless he was next to his brother. He was of two minds about it. Which was strange; generally, there was only one mind in him--the one he shared with Fred. It was just, he didn't know what his primary opinion was on this. He absolutely loved (how unmanly...) that he and Fred could have the same thought, just like that. But at the same time, he wished people would see him as George. One man, one whole man, not half a pair.
But he just couldn't escape his brother's shadow. Or was it his own? He couldn't quite tell, since they were exactly the same shape and size. So even while being a twin, he did everything he could to put little differences between him and his brother. This started when he was around fifteen. That was the year he realized just how badly he wanted his personal space. How badly he wanted to be referred to as "he," rather than "they." And yet, it seemed as though Fred didn't notice, or perhaps didn't care. He liked being a part of something, George knew. So for two years, it was a silent, unmentionable struggle. Then, when they were seventeen, Fred and Angelina started going out, and George got his time alone. There'd be whole days where Fred was off with Angelina and George was all alone. Days that George never knew much about. And he loved it. He felt guilty about it, but there you had it. He liked having his own life. And when he and Verity got together a year later, he kept it pretty quiet from his twin. Little hints and clues, but no out-and-out talk of it.
Then came the Final Battle.
Fred was killed. Verity was killed. Tonks, Lupin, Creevey...Fred. Verity.
The only two people he'd ever loved--granted, he loved his family as much as he loved his brother, but there'd been a different bond--and Verity was, well, Verity--were both dead. Forever.
The day he lost Fred and Verity, George began to wish he'd spent a little less time distancing himself from his twin and a little more time apologizing.
A/N: Well, here you go. Hot off the press and probably completely filled with errors. This didn't turn out quite like I wanted it to, but oh well. Feedback is welcome, appreciated, and replied to.