Just going to start with this: this is FANFICTION, people! Anything can happen… Please review at the end!
Hope you enjoy!
The Weasley's and Potter's were at the Burrow for their weekly Sunday dinner. All the kids were outside, laughing and chasing the gnomes, while the adults sat inside and talked.
Charlie, Bill, Arthur, Ron, and Harry talked in earnest about this year's Qudditch scores, while Fleur, Ginny, and Karen (Charlie's fiancée) talked about the upcoming wedding. Molly busied herself in the kitchen, making an unimaginable amount of food.
Hermione had just entered the living room, holding a butterbeer, and she noticed George was nowhere to be found. She asked Ginny where he was, and apparently George had headed upstairs awhile ago.
Hermione nodded, the remembered today's date. March 31st.
Every since Fred's death, George became withdrawn and refused to talk to anybody on three days of the year. The twin's birthday (April 1st), the anniversary of Fred's death, and today, March 31st. The first two were self-explanatory, but no one knew what so important about this day. This year, Hermione was determined to find the reason for George's depression.
Hermione walked upstairs slowly, setting her butterbeer on a table on her way up. On a hunch, she headed toward the twin's old room. The door was closed, and when Hermione tried the handle, she found that it was locked. She pressed an ear to the wood, but heard nothing. Then-a quiet sniffle.
"George?" she knocked on the door.
She tried again. "George, I know you're in there!"
"What do you want?" George's muffled voice came through the door, sounding hoarse.
"To talk. Are you okay?" Hermione asked.
"No" came the broken answer.
"Can I please come in?"
"Please George? I just want to help!"
The door opened a tiny bit, and Hermione hesitantly entered the room. George was lying face down on Fred's bed, his face buried in a pillow. As Hermione walked in, he raised his head, and Hermione could see that his eyes were red and puffy.
"Oh, George…" she whispered. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, rocking him.
She let him cry for awhile, and then finally pulled away. "I need to ask you something." She stated, staring at George. She then hesitated, hoping the question wasn't too insensitive. "What is it about this day that makes you so sad?'
George looked away, not meeting her gaze. "Nothing,' he muttered.
"George, seriously! I just want to help." Hermione said, her own eyes wet.. "You can tell me anything, I promise. I don't want to see you hurt."
George gave her a calculating look. Then he nodded, and stood up. He crossed to the door, closed it, locked it, and whispered a silencing spell. He sat on the end of Fred's bed, and invited Hermione to do the same. She did so, staring at George.
"You have to promise not to tell ANYONE about this," George said. "No one, not Harry, not even Ron, you understand?" he sounded urgent.
Hermione nodded, George rarely sounded so serious.
"Ok, "George started. "Please don't interrupt me until I'm finished.
"Ever since we were small, Fred and I would exchange our birthday presents the day before our birthday. Well- we would usually have two gifts, and we would exchange the more personal one the day before.
"On the eve of our 13th birthday, Fred said he had a really important present for me." George bit his lip, hesitating before he continued. "So, we were sitting here, almost exactly where we are now, and Fred, um… he kissed me."
George sneaked a glance at Hermione, who looked slightly shocked, but nodded for him to continue.
"Honestly, this was not the first time this had happened. When we were eleven, we decided we needed to know how to kiss, so we practiced on each other. But those kissed didn't mean anything; they were just… for fun. This kiss, however, was different. Fred was really kissing me, and I knew it meant much more than the kisses we had shared in the past.
"When Fred had kissed me during our 'practice sessions', I had realized that I was developing an unhealthy attachment to my brother. Now that brother was kissing me… I couldn't have been happier…"
George stopped, and looked at Hermione. "I'll spare you all the gory details, but basically we realized that we loved each other, and we started our wonderful relationship."
George stared off into space, smiling, but then he snapped back into the present.
"So, that's why I'm always sad this day. This is the anniversary of when Fred and I proclaimed our…undying love for each other.
"When Fred…died…I didn't just lose a brother, I lost my twin, my best friend, my…boyfriend and lover."
At this, George sagged forward, and held his head in his hands. "See, Hermione? That's why I never have dated since Fred died. Everyone thinks I should go out and be happy, but they don't know I've already given my heart to someone. My heart, body, and soul."
Hermione sat stock-still, absorbing everything she had just heard. She knew the boys had a close connection, but this…this was beyond what she had imagined. Poor George.
She leaned forward, and pulled George into a hard hug, squeezing him tightly.
He looked up, surprised. "You're…you're not disgusted?" He asked quietly.
Hermione shook her head violently."No, not at all. Soul mates can come in many forms, and you were just lucky to have yours in the form of a brother, twin, and lover."
George smiled up at her, and the two sat there for awhile, holding each other, and reflecting on the events of the past.
The next day, George visited Fred's grave. He set down the single red rose he had brought, and sat down in the front of the tombstone.
"Hey Fred, I miss you. Today's our birthday…you would have been 28 today. Happy Birthday."
George was silent for a moment. "I told Hermione. About us, I mean…I hope you don't mind. I know she will keep our secret.
"Also, I made a decision. Everyone has been pushing me to date, but I'm not going to. I know, I know, you want me to be happy, but I'd be happier if I didn't have to lie whenever I went out with someone. You're my soul mate, you still hold my heart, and I want to keep it that way. You're the only person my heart will ever belong to.
"I love you Fred, my brother, my lover, and my husband."