Disclaimer:If you don't know that nothing here is mine, then you're a night troll.

Author's Note: I am still alive. Buried under mountains of revision, but alive so no panic please. -Main reason there has been LITERALLY no activity on this account. I know this is short, but it's all I could do in between learning Hitler's entire life story and aims. Anyways, on with the story...

Chapter 12: Half a Twin, Half a Person

"What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"

"Oh no, Ron," came Fred's voice, very sarcastically. "No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up." – J.K. Rowling, Goblet of Fire.

Gee looked at the pitiful lump in the duvets in the bed next to her. Since their short conversation, George had not spoken again, but instead buried himself in the bed. His back was to her and she took the time to examine him.

His red hair was long and unkempt. His voice, when she'd heard it, was strained and tense. His forehead was no different- there were lines carved into it that no man his age should possess.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Madam Pomfrey bustled into the hospital wing.

"How are we doing today? Miss Wynters, you should be up and well, the potion I gave you last night will have repaired any lasting damage to your bones. Mr Weasley, let's take a look at that hand. It should have healed partially overnight. Why you ever stuck it in that fire, I have no idea."

Gee's mouth fell open in shock. He had voluntarily stuck his hand in a fire? What would possess anyone to do such a thing?

"I was bored."

Madam Pomfrey tutted and unwound his bandaged hand. It was scarred and George didn't move it much. When the matron prodded the scar tissue tentatively to check its progress, George winced and cursed loudly.

"Mr Weasley! I won't be having that type of language in my ward! Now this will take a few more hours until it is completely healed. Miss Wynters, although you are completely healed, could you stay here to talk with Mr Weasley. I have a feeling he doesn't talk to people much."

She left the infirmary. George rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to stay. I'm not the most sociable person in the world."

"Oh shush you. I'll stay, but you're gonna have to talk to me. I suddenly feel an urge to share things with you, like my undeniable urges to stick my hands in a fire. How about you?"

George smirked. "As I said, I was bored. And yourself diving into the Black Lake, with one heroic mission- to save a Giant Squid from a devastating future? What was that about?" His voice was laden with sarcasm.

"No, that was because I have a need to help those who require it. Now I've shared, fancying contributing to story-time?"

"If I told you mine, you'd be here for a long time."

"Then I'll settle down." Gee got up from her bed, dragged her duvet over to George and sat down on his bed, cross-legged and facing him. She pulled the bedding around her shoulders and stared at George intensely.

"So. What has you so miserable that you stick your hand in a fire?" Gee started.

George looked at her. The corner of his lip curled and time passed as he considered whether to answer or not.

"I used to be a twin." He let that forlorn statement hang in the air. Gee froze. She hadn't expected that. She waited, not wanting to interrupt George's musing.

"In the War, my brother and I were defending the corridors of Hogwarts. We got separated and he never came back. I didn't even see him before he died. I just saw his cold, lifeless body lying on a pallet on an equally cold stone floor. Ha, stone-cold, both of them." George picked at the bedclothes. "Why am I telling this? I haven't even talked to my family about him."

"I just have that sort of face. Why do you not call him by name?" Her questioning was abrupt. His gaze tracked from her face to the corner of the room.

"Nobody notices that. It's just a habit. I can't anymore. I don't even think of him by name anymore. I just- can't."

Gee took George's non-scarred hand in her own, tracing his skin lightly with one forefinger.

"Say it. Say it now. Who is it going to hurt?"

After a long, drawn-out pause, George answered. "Me." His voice throbbed with emotion on the small word.

Another elongated pause as Gee considered how to respond.

"Get it over with; if you can't now then you'll never be able to."

He looked at her with a plea in his eyes. He clearly wanted the easy way out. Unfortunately, with death, there was no easy way out. There were only the hard facts to face, and one of them was that George was the one alive. His twin had left him.

"Fr-Fr...Fre..." George tailed off. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. How many times have you said his name in your life? You can say it now."

The minutes stretched out in front of the two adolescents before George interrupted the quiet.

"Fred."

Aha! I know Gee came across a bit mean, but she wants George to get better.

Lots of love, FeatheredQuill :)