A/N: Little bit o' Harry Potter for ya ;) Bit bored and have been angsting about Fred and George ever since the movie came out… Seeing it in the movie just made it seem so much more real than reading it in the book did all those years ago, y'know? Anyway, this is based on the song 'Lullabies' by All Time Low. It reminds me of Fred and George so much… Also, the second dream scene thingy, when Fred is talking to George in his dying moments, was a picture my friend showed me, the link is on my profile because when I put the link in here it didn't work :( I wrote this while listening to 'Lullabies'… I ended up crying ;_; God I'm pathetic… Anyway, enough of my rambling, enjoy ^w^
We are standing alone at one of the higher towers of Hogwarts, watching the shimmering protections rise over the highest points of the towers. We can see nothing beyond the black boundaries of the Forbidden Forest, but I know they are waiting, watching, maybe even laughing at our feeble attempts of self-preservation. I look down and survey our own defences: all very well, but nothing, nothing can put up any sort of good fight against Dark magic. You-Know-Who, not to mention his entire army, is against us. It is a noble fight and we can die knowing that we stood up for what was right, but that was it- we would die.
"You alright?" I hear my voice say from my left, but of course I did not say it. It had been rather confusing when we were little- the same face on a different person, the same voice from a different mouth. We got used to it eventually, of course, but staring inevitable death in the face sort of makes everything a bit unfocused.
"Yeah," I croak, though of course I am not alright. The skin where my ear used to be is tingling weirdly, like somehow it remembers how it had been lost in the first place. I swallow hard.
"Scared?" Fred continues, trying to make it sound like a jibe. It's hard to laugh when you're staring inevitable death… yeah.
"Never," I half-laugh, as though the very idea is preposterous. I want to say that I was scared to death, but as ever I wouldn't say anything if he didn't. It's a twin thing. "You?"
"Yeah," He breathes. It surprises me at first, but then I feel a rush of admiration for my brother. I am about to tell him that he was much braver for just saying that but then he says something else.
"You'll be careful, won't you?" He says quietly, not meeting my eyes. "Keep an open eye and all that."
I force a grin. "I will if you will," I say, then, more seriously: "Don't get in over your head, OK? Promise?"
He looks at me and flashed an identical grin. "I will if you will."
And for a moment it's just like we're kids again because he holds out his little finger and waits for me to do the same. His little finger wraps around mine and we pull.
It doesn't matter how old you are- you don't break pinkie promises.
I woke up with a start. For a moment I was totally confused, then everything rushed back in a painful flood. The warm embrace I was held in was Mum's- pathetic, really, that a twenty-year-old man should resort to crying to his mother. My eyes stung and my chest ached. My cheeks were soaked. I could hear Mum crying softly too as she rocked back and forth.
All too quickly, I remembered my dream. Except, it hadn't been a dream. That was the last time I had ever spoken to Fred. The last pinkie promise we'd ever made. It was weird, because we both promised each other that we'd survive because the thought of either of us dying was just silly.
And for what had to be the hundredth time in at least two weeks, I burst into tears again at the very thought of my dead twin's face.
There is rubble everywhere. You can hardly see the floor beneath the shattered blocks of roof that had caved in. I am standing at the end of the corridor, watching it all unfold in slow-motion. I watch Fred turn and laugh at Percy and I hear the boom before it actually happens. I scream and run forward, begging him to move and get out of the way, to stick close to Percy or Harry or someone and just get out of the way, please, please, please…
I don't see the explosion or see the roof crumble, but next thing I know I'm kneeling next to Fred, the same way he had stood by me when I had lost my ear. His head is bleeding and his eyes are twinkling weakly. I grip his shoulders and feel my heart squeeze.
"Freddie… Don't do this… You promised…"
"Hey, George," He whispers hoarsely. "We're the Holy Spirit. Get it? Because you're holey, and I'm going to heaven."
Hearing those words from his mouth makes everything ten times worse and I explode with tears, bending down over his chest and pleading him not to leave me, not to die.
"Please don't cry, George…"
When I woke up, my cheeks were streaked with dry tears. I didn't have to remember this time. It's been so repetitive for the past year and a half that I hardly need reminding. Every night, all I dream about is Fred. Everything we ever did. Of course, dreaming about his death wasn't actually how it happened- I wasn't there- but I wish I was. I mean, I wish he didn't have to die, but he did, and the very least I could have done was be there for him.
I wish we could have died together. At least then I wouldn't be suffering now, which is horribly selfish but even though somehow we all manage to pretend we're alright we know we're not. Nothing's funny in this family anymore. It was only funny when there were two of us. Now I'm just half of what we used to be.
I remembered what dream-Fred told me just before I woke up. Please don't cry, George… I know he wouldn't want me to suffer- he was, after all, my twin- but it's so hard not to be upset when half of you is gone. When we were little we used to joke around and say that we would be twins forever, but forever seems like such an awfully long time when there's no twin to spend it with. We had our whole lives planned out ahead of us, and we almost had it all: we had the joke shop, we had the flat, we had everything we said we would… And then he just died. All of our plans seemed to count for nothing now. It was going to be perfect… I know it wasn't his fault, it was the bloody Death Eater's, but it still hurts.
The joke shop is closed now, though, because I can't keep it up on my own. I've thrown out all of our experiment sweets and toys. All the mirrors are smashed because I can't look at myself without being reminded of him. I haven't watched or played Quidditch in a year and a half because it just feels strange to know that someone else is going to be the Beater, not him. People have given up on me, and I don't blame them. I'm pathetic, but I can't help it. It's just so hard to know that he won't be by my side anymore, after twenty years. Nothing could make me laugh now except one of his original crack-pot jokes.
I miss him so much.
It's the empty paddock back at the Burrow. Ginny, Ron, Charlie and I are playing Quidditch just like we used to. Fred's missing, but that doesn't matter. The wind in my hair, the broomstick between my legs, the ball under my arm… I'm living in the moment, and the moment is amazing.
I dart past Charlie and score yet another fantastic goal. Ron whoops and Ginny moans as I let off a few triumphant figure-eights in mid-air before Charlie calls time out. I swoop to the ground and hit the grass solidly, sliding off my broomstick with ease. Looking around, I see Fred leaning casually against a fence. I jog over to him eagerly, imagining his face when I tell him about my fantastic goals…
"Where were you?" I gasp when I reach him. "I scored the most amazing goals you will ever see, you'd be proud-"
Fred smiles sadly. "I'm dead, George."
Suddenly the sky turns black and red and thunder rumbles overhead. I can hear screams and a loud boom as something explodes and a deafening crash as something falls, but I hardly notice it because Fred has just told me that he is dead. But that's ridiculous, he's standing right in front of me…
"That's ridiculous," I say uncertainly, looking at him as though he might be crazy. "You're standing right in front of me."
Fred's smile pulls up a little more at the corners and for the first time I notice the thick river of blood gushing down his face. His eyes have lost their shine, and it looks like his face is just forever frozen on a smile. I didn't see it before, but his clothes are torn and he is cut.
"Did those gnomes get the best of you?" I say jokingly, but becoming increasingly nervous.
"I'm dead, George," Fred says again, and suddenly we've left the Burrow and I'm watching the Hogwarts ceiling collapse on top of Fred's body. He disappears underneath and I scream and run towards him, but then we're back at the Burrow. I stumble towards him desperately, hands outstretched, but he's always just out of reach.
I fall to my knees, gasping and clawing at my chest as I heave dry sobs. It doesn't matter that everyone else can see me- Fred is gone. Dead.
Or maybe not. I feel his hands on my shoulders ,but it feels weird. Like they're there but they're not really there. I don't look up when he speaks.
"Please don't cry, George," He says softly, and oddly un-Fred-like. "I don't want you to be upset anymore."
"How can I not?" I croak, trying to sound angry but I'm too overwhelmed by grief to even get close. "You're dead, Freddie."
"I know," He admits quietly. "But that doesn't mean you are. You know all that cheesy crap about people still living on in their loved one's hearts?"
"Yeah," I sniff uncertainly.
"That's all crap," Fred tells me bluntly. "But it's different for identical twins. We're the same, right? You carry my face every day. Stop wallowing in pity and be proud. Make me proud."
I swallow and go silent for a short while. Then:
"I miss you," I tell him quietly. "I'm so sorry for not being there with you. I'll never forget you, you know that? None of us will. We think about you, Fred. Everyday."
"I know," He says again.
I finally look up, but he's gone and I'm alone again.
But not really.
A/N: Ta-daa? Crappy ending, I know, this was just a really quick thing I threw together. Please review and listen to 'Lullabies' by All Time Low and ALWAYS remember that Fred and George are the best characters in the series :/