Not to Be Separated
Disclaimer; I don't own Harry Potter. I know shocker right? Ya know what else? I don't own the Weasley Twins either. I'm just borrowing…and changing…and not intending to give back ….. :)
A/N So, my first Harry Potter fanfic….i know big moment right? Anyway i can't get the Weasley Twins out of my head and this fic has been floating around in my head since is saw DH. Basically its a bit AU. Aka Fred's not dead. i don't know why everyone thinks he is….(-Denial)
Oh. btw this isn't Twincest. just Brotherly love…..unless you know…you consider hugs to be incestual then well…..
on with the story!
Not to Be Separated
George Weasley never gave much thought to muggle religion. He heard bits and pieces of it from the muggle borns at Hogwarts in passing, and though they seemed to believe in it quiet fervently, the entire concept evaded him. Why put so much faith in something you weren't even sure existed? Surly it was different than putting all faith in a tiny baby with a lightning shaped scar?
It always ended up giving him a headache, so long ago George pushed the issue out of his mind, and simply wrote it off as one of those things muggles did.
But then came the war, and he was expected to fight, and the risk of losing everything he ever cared about seemed not so impossible anymore. Suddenly George started to wonder whether putting all faith in a tiny baby had been the wiser decision after all.
Then he lost Fred, and the world seemed to come crumbling down around him, and he lost faith in everything- muggle or wizard.
But those muggles had these things that made the impossible possible called miracles. And a miracle is exactly what brought Fred back to him. Or perhaps it had been a twist of fate…or maybe just his luck, he didn't know.
The healers at St. Mungos said it was because of an intense old magic; A special twin-ey magic that bound George and his brother together. It was insanely old, and none of them, not even the ancient nurse who looked older than Dumbledore himself, had seen it before. Apparently people just didn't have that type of bond anymore. He and Fred did though, and in a way a horcrux would bring it's owner back from the dead, because George lived, Fred woke up the morning after the battle admits the rubble and destruction of the Great Hall.
Honestly, George didn't care whether it was magic or a miracle, or luck, all that mattered to him was that Fred was back, and nothing was going to separate them again.
Things were better, but not everything was back to normal. George missed the days when such serious thoughts like fate and separation didn't cloud his mind, and the most pressing matter at hand was how he was going to get seven dung bombs into Filch's office without the caretaker noticing. Fred began to notice this as well, and though he never commented on it, was very much aware of how quiet George had become, how he seemed to have lost his spark, how he came to rely of Fred even more than before.
Somehow, after Fred was released from St. Mungos, George got into the habit of crawling into bed with his twin late at night when his thoughts became too troubling, and a dark fear crept up inside him, forcing him to contemplate the time when he and Fred would be separated forever. Although he was a little taken aback at first, Fred always shuffled over silently, making room whenever George appeared at his bedside. In the morning, to George's relief, neither would address the fact that once again they had woken up squished together on a single twin bed like when they were children, nor did they mention the reason they ended up there in the first place.
Their separation was a wound too fresh for George to bring up without ending in an intense pain neither of them knew how to deal with. Even though he desperately wanted to tell Fred what his absence had done, he couldn't fathom how to broach the subject without losing whatever dignity he had left. Fred, he reasoned, had it easier. Fred was completely unaware of everything for the brief time he was considered dead. He, unlike George, didn't feel the pain of the separation, because he simply wasn't awake for it. For the first time George was different than his twin, and for the first time he experienced something his twin hadn't, and that frightened him almost as much as separation.
Just because George was too frightened to talk about it, didn't mean Fred was as well. Fred let it go as long as he could, but one day when he was expected to apparate to Hogsmeade by himself for joke-shop business and George nearly had a panic attack when he left, Fred finally decided enough was enough. That night when he felt the mattress shift and George appeared at his side- right on schedule- instead of making room, he reached over and swiftly pushed George off the side of the bed.
"We can't keep doing this." Fred insisted leaning over the side of the bed, a slight hesitance in his voice, as if he himself was as afraid as George. "The war's over. We need to get back to how we were before I…" He trailed off, voice cracking slightly. "Im fine now George. Im not going anywhere. You heard the healers, apparently neither of us are going without the other." Fred reached over, and offered George a hand, pulling them up. "We don't need to be scared." George nodded and tried to stifle the tears that were threatening to fall. Wordlessly Fred pulled him into a hug, and although George's breathing did become a bit shallow, and his eyes were damp as his pressed his face against Fred's neck; he did not allow himself to properly cry.
"Now," Fred said after a few minutes, pulling away slightly, "Now d'you think you can sleep in your own bed tonight?" His tone was light, as he gripped George's shoulders, "Because I hate to break it to you dear brother, but you kick like a mule."
Fred was right of course, George mused back in his own bed , the chance of them getting separated now was slim to non with the war over. But that didn't stop the panic, because if George wasn't thinking about future separation, he was constantly being tormented by the memories when they had been separated. Fred didn't understand what it felt like, how horrible it was, when George believed his twin to be dead. It felt as if half of his sole was removed, like he was going to be sick, like he would never be whole again. Sometimes, like now for instance, that feeling returned to George, to haunt him, and without really realizing it, George had begun to cry. Tears streamed down his face, and his breath came in short gasps. Furiously George scrubbed at the tears, Fred, could stand to be on his own for a short time, Fred didn't panic when they spent a day apart. Fred wouldn't have insisted- no begged- to come along if it had been George going to Hogsmeade this afternoon instead of him. And Fred -damnit- wouldn't be a sobbing mess because he was sleeping alone for once. Frustrated, George clenched his eyes shut trying, unsuccessfully, banish these thoughts from his mind.
After a few minutes George felt the bed shift underneath him. Surprised, he opened his eyes to discover Fred lying next to him.
"But I thought you…" George began.
"I was wrong." Interrupted Fred.
Because Fred did understand-now at least. He thought he had been right, that what they needed was normalcy, but as he lay in his bed for the past few minutes listening to George's horribly stifled sobs from across the room, he realized that normalcy was not what George needed. They couldn't return to how things were, because things wouldn't be normal ever again. He hated to admit it but they were different now. Fred might've came back to life no worse for the ware, but a piece of George had died with him, and never came back to life. He was a complete ass of a twin to not have realized it before, he chastised himself, but now it made complete sense. George wasn't scared, he was hurting. Hurting because of the effect Fred's absence left on him.
George didn't need normalcy. What George needed, was Fred.
And now, as Fred held George close, he didn't give a wit how long he would have to stick by George if it would make them better. Fred never wanted to go through what George did when he died. Fred never wanted to feel the pain George is feeling now. And if staying together was the only solution- then that was ok, even if it wasn't the healthiest thing. They were twins for crying out loud. They had as good as come with tag instructing them; "Not to be separated." Because this, Fred thought feeling George shaking next to him, is what happens when they were.
"We just need to be close." Fred mumbled as they both finally drifted off to sleep.
That night they did end up falling asleep together, and for the next couple of nights too, but one morning a week or two later, George woke up squished against Fred, just like when they were little, but for once George woke up not weighed down with thoughts of muggle miracles, or fate, or war. As long as he was with Fred, George was beginning to discover, he would never have to give any of that much thought anyway.
A/N So it felt strange and a bit OOC to be writing the Weasley Twins so serious...but what I figured was that they did go through a lot, and where this fic takes place they really haven't begun to get over it yet...i guess. i also know that i didn't really concentrate too much on how exactly Fred was re-fredded. (yes i read Fox ears :p) so maybe i'll write another fic on how that happened one day...but for now i think its safe to say it was magic that brought him back. :) and this was more about George anyway...
So... Please Review, and Thank you for reading!