A/N: The premiere is tomorrow! I'm so excited, yet so sad for Fred's death. I'm going to be full out sobbing during the movie! Anyways, this was written in honor of Fred. There are a million stories of George mourning, but this is a bit different: it's Fred mourning. I know it sounds weird, but give me a chance. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Falling. Free falling. Falling into nothing but blackness. No, there wasn't even blackness down there. There was just nothing. Nothing but empty space. No color. Nothing to see. Not even any air to breath. Just nothing.
Falling through it all.
And all I could think of the entire way down was George.
I had left him. I had left him! I was dead and I knew it! Dead! What kind of twin brother dies before his other half does? What kind of cruel, heartless person would ever dare to do such a thing?
I was dead.
I wanted to sob. I wanted to cry for the rest of eternity. I wanted to retch until there was nothing left in me. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs until my voice grew hoarse and I was out of breath.
But I was still falling, and could do nothing but close my eyes and replay my final moments over in my head.
And think about my family.
Think about my twin.
The one I left. The one I left alone. He didn't even know I was gone yet; I could feel it. He didn't know. What would happen when he found out? I didn't even want to think about it. It was too devastating. Too sad. Way too sad. Georgie… poor Georgie… I'm so sorry, George…
Then I was lying on a cold, hard floor. Nothing really hurt anymore. The hurting had stopped the second that wall had exploded on me. For a moment I had felt a world of pain, then nothing. Then falling. Now this.
I didn't want to move. I didn't want to see where I was. It didn't matter anymore. I was dead. There was no point.
I lost George.
It was as if he had died, not I. It was as if everyone had died, yet I was still alive. I would grieve for everyone, yet back on Earth, it would be the opposite: I was the one to die, and everyone would grieve for me.
I didn't know which thought was more disturbing.
I still didn't move, although I was secretly startled by the voice. I hadn't heard anyone coming. Yet I certainly wasn't imagining it. And, what's worse, I knew whose voice it was: Dumbledore's.
"Fred? I need you to look at me." The voice wasn't demanding. It was just as I had remembered his voice: gentle yet somewhat firm.
Still, I didn't move. It wasn't that I couldn't. There was just no point in moving. There was no point in anything anymore. I had lost everything. Everything.
"Mr. Weasley, there are people here to see you. We won't be long."
Curiosity was slowly getting the best of me, and I finally raised my head off the ground a little and took my first look around. All around me was nothing. Nothing but nothing. And darkness. Except for the people. There were a few people who I recognized there, standing in front of me, all looking at me with different expressions on their faces.
They were all dead, too.
There was Dumbledore closest to me, smiling at me warmly, his beard well combed and his half-moon spectacles straight on his crooked nose.
There was a man who looked a lot like Harry, standing next to a charming woman with red hair and green eyes. Must be Harry's parents. They looked almost happy to see me.
There was Sirius. He looked a little remorseful to see me here, no doubt thinking of George.
Lupin and Tonks were there, too, holding hands. They had clearly died during the battle. Under any other circumstances I would have been sad, but I couldn't feel anything at this point at all.
Madeye was there, giving me that tough, half-smile, holding onto that old walking stick of his. He looked better than he ever had in the real world.
Dobby the house elf, some old relatives, and some non-important others were there, as well, and I secretly let out a sigh of relief when I saw no other Weasleys had died in battle. Or Harry, for that matter.
"Welcome," Dumbledore said, smiling.
I couldn't speak. George was on my mind again. All I could do was sit up straight on the invisible floor and stare somewhere off in the distance. George…
I heard Dumbledore chuckle. "I see you are not ready to face the afterlife yet. That is quite all right. It often takes time to adjust."
"Took me a good year or so!" Someone, an underclassman who Fred couldn't remember the name of, piped up, beaming. Sirius shot him a glare.
"Yes, well," Dumbledore started again, smiling warmly, "we will leave you to it, then. Just let anyone here know when you're ready to-"
"You're just going to leave me here?" It was the first time I spoke. My voice sounded hoarse and scratchy. Had I been screaming without noticing?
"You aren't ready yet, I can tell, but you'll know when you are." Dumbledore winked. "We will be seeing you soon, Mr. Weasley."
And in an instant, everyone had faded away as if they were ghosts.
And I was left alone, with nothing but the memory of my final moment playing over and over again in my head.
Percy was laughing…
"I'm sorry, Perce."
George wasn't even there…
"I'm sorry, George."
And the battle raged on without me, just another dead body added to the pile.
I lay down again. And I screamed. And I kicked. And I cried. And I was sick. And I yelled and I yelled and I yelled and I yelled.
Why Why Why WHY WHY?
I was broken.
I don't know how much time passed, but I soon found myself opening my eyes again. I don't know exactly why I did, but I'm certainly glad I did.
I don't know when it appeared there, and I don't know how, and I don't know why I didn't notice it earlier.
In front of me was a mirror. It wasn't small; it was a full-body one, but it wasn't overly fancy, either. I don't know how I could tell, but it wasn't magic. It didn't have any charms or enchantments on it. It wasn't the mirror of Erised. And when I sat up a little straighter and looked through it, everything appeared normal at first. I was there, staring back at myself. It was just Fred. Nothing more. Nothing less.
That's what I thought, at least, until I noticed an ear was missing.
He was here.
And then he was mourning. He was crying. Then he was standing up. Then running. Then dueling. Then crying some more. Then dueling again.
I was actually watching him.
"George?" I whispered, brining a shaky hand up to the mirror.
The reflection kept on dueling.
"George!" I said a little louder.
"GEORGE!" I screamed it this time, banging on the glass with all my might.
But nothing happened.
George. George. George. My twin. My brother. My best friend. Come back. Come back. Wake up. Wake up. Don't die. Don't be dead. I need you. I need you so bad…
But I was the dead one.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
I watched him for a while. I watched him dual some more, I watched him cheer, I watched him cry some more, and some more, and some more. I watched him say good bye to friends, I watched him leave back to the Burrow, I watched him congratulate Harry, I watched him receive a countless amount of apologies for his loss, I watched him cry some more.
He was in his room for a while. He wouldn't come out. It was painful to watch. Part of me wanted to slap that ungrateful bitch upside the head for ignoring our family, but the other half still wanted to cry.
He talked to me for the first time after 2 days; right before my funeral. That was a weird thing to say: my funeral. But weirder things have happened.
"I miss you, Fred."
I sat up straighter, staring at the mirror in surprise. He hadn't talked once since the day after the battle, let alone to me. I knew he couldn't hear me, but I decided to answer anyways.
"I miss you too, George."
As if he had understood me, he put his head in his hands, sitting on the edge of his bed, and said, "I don't know what to do without you…"
I gave him a weak smile, wishing he could see and hear me. "Yeah, I'm running into the same problem…"
"Are you here with me, Fred?"
At first I thought he had heard me, and thought I was a ghost with him now or something. But when I looked at his face more carefully, I saw the expression wasn't surprised or hopeful: it was still sad.
I answered anyways.
"I'm always going to be here with you, George. Always. Until the day you die, and even then we'll be together."
George couldn't hear me.
But something on his face changed.
Something made him feel better.
And something made me feel better too.
As if… as if we could feel each other's presence.
Must be a twin thing.
Then I was momentarily blinded by a huge flash of light, so bright I had to shut my eyes tight and shield them with my arms. I stayed that was for a few minutes, then finally dared to open them again.
The empty space around me had changed from a nothing black to a blinding white. The aura had changed from dark and dreary to happy and peaceful. I felt… invigorated.
Dumbledore was by my side in an instant, smiling at me again. "Well, Mr. Weasley, are you ready to leave?"
I looked back at the mirror, then I looked at the old man. I smiled for the first time in days. "Jeez, I thought you'd never ask!"
Dubledore smiled. "Oh, but I knew."
And he took me through a door into heaven itself. I won't describe it to you- I'll leave that up to your sweet imaginations.
I never looked back at that mirror, but something told me that I'd still be able to watch over my beloved twin until the end.
I would never leave him.
A/N: It's probably a really bad idea to stay up until 1am writing this the night before the midnight premiere… but whatever! I enjoyed writing it :)
Please please please review! Reviews mean so much to me! They make me really happy! And feel free to check out my other Weasley Twin stories!
Thanks for reading!