Reunited
Chapter: One-shot
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: George Weasley and Fred Weasley
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK and Warner Brothers
Spoilers: Deathly Hallows
Summery: Life just hasn’t been the same fore George since that day ten years ago. Death seemed so inviting to him. He had nothing to live for anymore, not since…Fred
A/N: Sorry for spelling mistakes.
Life just hasn’t been the same fore George since that day ten years ago. Death seemed so inviting to him. He had nothing to live for anymore, not since… So many times has he contemplated on somehow doing it; a powerful sleeping draft that could kill a dragon or to use the Killing Curse on himself. That’s all he thinks about when everyone talks about that day, it just makes it worse. Sleeping makes it worse. When he shuts his eyes all he sees is identical eyes looking back at him, cold, dead, etched with their last laugh. He’s just never been whole since the Battle of Hogwarts. When he thinks of Fred he just wants to die.
One day, walking along the grounds of Hogwarts, George came so close to death of his own accord but something stopped him. A voice and an icy touch…
George, just finishing walking down the corridor where Fred was murdered, pulled out a vile from his pocket. A sleeping draft was his choice. One last look down and he could see the past unfold. Percy and Fred joking after defeating a Death Eater, the wall exploding before Fred could finish, Fred dying on impact, not feeling the pain of death, and Percy leaning over the body sobbing. George uncorked the vile and brought it to his lips.
“I’m coming for you, brother.” He whispered, bracing for the cold.
Before death could drip down his throat a ghostly voice sounded and a silvery-white hand lay on his shoulder. “Now why would you do that if I’m right here?”
The vile slipped from his hands and crashed to the floor. He turned, horror struck, to face the ghostly figure of his past in his semi-transparent eyes that glowed like the sun. George couldn’t believe his eyes to what he was right in front of him, staring him square in the face. I had been years since he’s seen his own face so young. “Fred?”
“Yes, little brother.” Said the ghost. “It’s me, in the flesh, so to speak.”
George couldn’t find the words. Not more then a minute ago had he thought about death as his best friend, his equal, when, now, his best friend stood before him in all his silvery-white glory. George marveled at how much Fred hadn’t changed in the ten years he’s been dead. Death has been good to Fred, whereas life had done a toll on George. Just this morning George looked in the mirror, planning his own death with himself, and now he’s looking at Fred - the ghost of what was once himself and his brother. “But how?”
Fred floated closer to his brother but George just stepped back. Though Fred’s physical pain was visible, so was his emotional hurt. George retreating from him hurt him more then death had. “I guess I didn’t want to let death in, I didn’t want to leave my brother,” he smirked.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: George Weasley and Fred Weasley
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK and Warner Brothers
Spoilers: Deathly Hallows
Summery: Life just hasn’t been the same fore George since that day ten years ago. Death seemed so inviting to him. He had nothing to live for anymore, not since…Fred
A/N: Sorry for spelling mistakes.
Life just hasn’t been the same fore George since that day ten years ago. Death seemed so inviting to him. He had nothing to live for anymore, not since… So many times has he contemplated on somehow doing it; a powerful sleeping draft that could kill a dragon or to use the Killing Curse on himself. That’s all he thinks about when everyone talks about that day, it just makes it worse. Sleeping makes it worse. When he shuts his eyes all he sees is identical eyes looking back at him, cold, dead, etched with their last laugh. He’s just never been whole since the Battle of Hogwarts. When he thinks of Fred he just wants to die.
One day, walking along the grounds of Hogwarts, George came so close to death of his own accord but something stopped him. A voice and an icy touch…
George, just finishing walking down the corridor where Fred was murdered, pulled out a vile from his pocket. A sleeping draft was his choice. One last look down and he could see the past unfold. Percy and Fred joking after defeating a Death Eater, the wall exploding before Fred could finish, Fred dying on impact, not feeling the pain of death, and Percy leaning over the body sobbing. George uncorked the vile and brought it to his lips.
“I’m coming for you, brother.” He whispered, bracing for the cold.
Before death could drip down his throat a ghostly voice sounded and a silvery-white hand lay on his shoulder. “Now why would you do that if I’m right here?”
The vile slipped from his hands and crashed to the floor. He turned, horror struck, to face the ghostly figure of his past in his semi-transparent eyes that glowed like the sun. George couldn’t believe his eyes to what he was right in front of him, staring him square in the face. I had been years since he’s seen his own face so young. “Fred?”
“Yes, little brother.” Said the ghost. “It’s me, in the flesh, so to speak.”
George couldn’t find the words. Not more then a minute ago had he thought about death as his best friend, his equal, when, now, his best friend stood before him in all his silvery-white glory. George marveled at how much Fred hadn’t changed in the ten years he’s been dead. Death has been good to Fred, whereas life had done a toll on George. Just this morning George looked in the mirror, planning his own death with himself, and now he’s looking at Fred - the ghost of what was once himself and his brother. “But how?”
Fred floated closer to his brother but George just stepped back. Though Fred’s physical pain was visible, so was his emotional hurt. George retreating from him hurt him more then death had. “I guess I didn’t want to let death in, I didn’t want to leave my brother,” he smirked.