Houses of Hogwarts Fest FIC: Suddenly and Forever (PG-13)
Title: Suddenly and Forever
Author/Artist: wizbey
House Category: Gryffindor
Summary: The breath was knocked out of him and he felt as if he may never get it back. George tries to move on.
Characters/Pairings: George mentions of Fred and the Weasleys
Genre: angst
Beta: prides13
Rating: PG-13
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): Talk of character death.
Can we link from Tumblr?: yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: wizbey
Everything can change at any moment, suddenly and forever. - Paul Auster
He looked down and for a moment thought he was having an out of body experience or a dream. He was looking down at his own body lying sprawled on the ground looking almost peaceful. Sleeping.
The horrible sickening realization slammed into him worse then the time he had accidently flown into a bludger during practice. Fred had laughed at him, told him to watch himself or he’d be the pretty one. Fred wasn’t laughing now. He swallowed hard; it was all he could do to keep from throwing up. Fred would never laugh again. Never smile again. Never prank again.
He wasn’t looking at his body. There were too many freckles, the hair too long complexion too pale. To many people this was the same body but to the trained eye, to someone who knew him well, it was a very different body lying on the ground unmoving. He tried to rack his brain for anything that would calm him down. For anything that could help. Anything that would make him feel better. But there wasn’t anything he could think of when it felt as if his heart was bleeding inside of his chest.
They all knew the risks going into the battle. No one was pushed and they al could have said ‘no’ at any given time. But it wasn’t even a choice. Now was the time to make a choice and stand by it. But where had it gotten them. Absolutely nowhere. He blink once. Twice. Yet the image before him went unchanged. He forced himself to move, he’d come back later because right now he had other things to do.
And come back he did. He snuck in, a skill of his, because he didn’t want anyone to know where he’d gone. He didn’t need the pity; the sallow looks in the eyes of people. The room was piled with bodies but he tried not to think about that. Only one mattered to him. It was like looking in a mirror. He took the hand in his, and by himself in the small room cried. It started slowly and soon his vision became so blurry he couldn’t see a thing. He squeezed the hand tighter and tighter but it was in vain as the hand could never squeeze back.
“Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody.” - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
He got out of bed. Went downstairs. Ate breakfast. Three simple tasks but for him they were incredible hard. His family all said morning and he nodded, not quite trusting his voice yet. His throat was dry and hurt from crying too much and not talking. This was the first time in weeks he had willingly left the room he was staying in. It wasn’t his childhood room; he couldn’t bare the thought of being in there without… he was forcing himself to do things one moment at a time.
That day forever changed his life yet the lives of everyone around him still went on. He felt as if his world had stopped turning and had yet to begin again. It would take time to put his life back together, time he might not have. It could take weeks more, maybe even months to years to decades. He didn’t know nor did he care to fathom a guess.
Life didn’t care that he had lost a brother, a best friend, a confidant, a part of himself. It moved on forcing him to move along with it, but he didn’t know if he could. He wasn’t even sure if he could try. If he wanted to try.
Life moved on yet he couldn’t even look in a mirror.
“When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back.”
― Paulo Coelho, The Devil and Miss Prym
Day by day. Moment by moment. That’s how he was getting by. Taking the moments as they came. The tears were becoming fewer and fewer. The moments of tight chest, palpitations and heartbreaker were still there but not as deafening. He was trying to move on some days. Other days he didn’t want to get out of bed.
The oddest things would set him off. Laughter. The thought of flying. Walking by a closed door. They all brought up memories. Laughter was their language. They didn’t need words between them to understand what the other was saying. Flying, when not pranking, was their activity of choice. Like most things they did quidditch together making a fine pair of beaters. He couldn’t stand the thought of playing with anyone else and he was rubbish at any other position. The door to their room still remained closed. He wasn’t ready to go in there yet to see the sights and be greeted with the smells and to stand in the silence, which would be deafening.
He might be ready one day, but today was not that day. It was taking everything he had to survive. He’d lie awake at night trying not to think of these things yet it was what his mind always came back to. He was a weak Gryffndor, an improper sort he figured. He had no courage to face the world alone and the thought terrified him to his core.
“Grief does not change you. It reveals you.” - John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
Grief by definition means great sorrow. What no one tells you is that grief manifests itself in empty nothingness. He blinked and blinked again wishing hoping praying that when he opened his eyes there would be someone else in the room beside him. Except there hadn’t been anyone beside him in months. Only one bed in a small room that use to belong to Charlie. No one questioned or commented when he moved back into it, avoiding the shop and apartment all together.
He opened his eyes and was greeted by the eerily familiar sight. The house was quite, an odd sound for the burrow but nonetheless he got up and as if on autopilot made his way down the hallways, stopping outside of the closed door. He knew his mum went in there regularly. He could hear her sobs through the walls but never said anything. He didn’t know how.
He reached out and opened the door slipping inside of it for the first time since the incident. He found himself lying on the bed farthest from the door with no recollection of how he got there. his bed was the closer of the two. He lied down face first and took a few breaths in through his nose. The smell overwhelmed him and he could tell his vision was going blurry not for the first time in the past 24 hours. He didn’t care, his heart became tighten and his breaths became closer and closer together. This was physical pain. Next would come the numbness and the sense of drowning.
He wanted to be okay. If he could be okay in a moment he’d love that. To be able to smile. Tow ant to get out of bed. To be able to move on. Sometimes he felt more like a helpless child then an accomplished adult.
“You can't stop the future. You can't rewind the past. The only way to learn the secret...is to press play.” - Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why
Everyone was gathered in the family room by the time he came down to join them. There were smiles and polite welcomes as people moved to accommodate him. He sat down and tried to listen to the conversations around him. He had given up trying to follow what was being said when someone placed something in his arms. Not something, someone. There staring up at him through a mess of blankets was he nice. She gurgled and smiled, a small fuzz of red hair adorned her head. He smiled back, the action unfamiliar to him but she gurgled again and he was encouraged.
He’d never forget because he simple couldn’t but he’d learn to move on because he could. He wasn’t alone no matter how much he felt like that. All he had to do was let them.
The past hurt and time did not heal all wounds.
But it certainly helped easy the crushing sense that came with loss.
In that moment he knew he’d be okay. Everyone around him would make sure of it.
His brother’s legend would live on because he would make sure of it. Who better to tell the tales and adventures then someone else who had lived them.
Hogwarts wouldn’t know what hit it when it was time.
For the first time in awhile he laughed and it was genuine. He would be fine.
Morgan // Gryffindor // 50 points
Author/Artist: wizbey
House Category: Gryffindor
Summary: The breath was knocked out of him and he felt as if he may never get it back. George tries to move on.
Characters/Pairings: George mentions of Fred and the Weasleys
Genre: angst
Beta: prides13
Rating: PG-13
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): Talk of character death.
Can we link from Tumblr?: yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: wizbey
Everything can change at any moment, suddenly and forever. - Paul Auster
He looked down and for a moment thought he was having an out of body experience or a dream. He was looking down at his own body lying sprawled on the ground looking almost peaceful. Sleeping.
The horrible sickening realization slammed into him worse then the time he had accidently flown into a bludger during practice. Fred had laughed at him, told him to watch himself or he’d be the pretty one. Fred wasn’t laughing now. He swallowed hard; it was all he could do to keep from throwing up. Fred would never laugh again. Never smile again. Never prank again.
He wasn’t looking at his body. There were too many freckles, the hair too long complexion too pale. To many people this was the same body but to the trained eye, to someone who knew him well, it was a very different body lying on the ground unmoving. He tried to rack his brain for anything that would calm him down. For anything that could help. Anything that would make him feel better. But there wasn’t anything he could think of when it felt as if his heart was bleeding inside of his chest.
They all knew the risks going into the battle. No one was pushed and they al could have said ‘no’ at any given time. But it wasn’t even a choice. Now was the time to make a choice and stand by it. But where had it gotten them. Absolutely nowhere. He blink once. Twice. Yet the image before him went unchanged. He forced himself to move, he’d come back later because right now he had other things to do.
And come back he did. He snuck in, a skill of his, because he didn’t want anyone to know where he’d gone. He didn’t need the pity; the sallow looks in the eyes of people. The room was piled with bodies but he tried not to think about that. Only one mattered to him. It was like looking in a mirror. He took the hand in his, and by himself in the small room cried. It started slowly and soon his vision became so blurry he couldn’t see a thing. He squeezed the hand tighter and tighter but it was in vain as the hand could never squeeze back.
“Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody.” - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
He got out of bed. Went downstairs. Ate breakfast. Three simple tasks but for him they were incredible hard. His family all said morning and he nodded, not quite trusting his voice yet. His throat was dry and hurt from crying too much and not talking. This was the first time in weeks he had willingly left the room he was staying in. It wasn’t his childhood room; he couldn’t bare the thought of being in there without… he was forcing himself to do things one moment at a time.
That day forever changed his life yet the lives of everyone around him still went on. He felt as if his world had stopped turning and had yet to begin again. It would take time to put his life back together, time he might not have. It could take weeks more, maybe even months to years to decades. He didn’t know nor did he care to fathom a guess.
Life didn’t care that he had lost a brother, a best friend, a confidant, a part of himself. It moved on forcing him to move along with it, but he didn’t know if he could. He wasn’t even sure if he could try. If he wanted to try.
Life moved on yet he couldn’t even look in a mirror.
“When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back.”
― Paulo Coelho, The Devil and Miss Prym
Day by day. Moment by moment. That’s how he was getting by. Taking the moments as they came. The tears were becoming fewer and fewer. The moments of tight chest, palpitations and heartbreaker were still there but not as deafening. He was trying to move on some days. Other days he didn’t want to get out of bed.
The oddest things would set him off. Laughter. The thought of flying. Walking by a closed door. They all brought up memories. Laughter was their language. They didn’t need words between them to understand what the other was saying. Flying, when not pranking, was their activity of choice. Like most things they did quidditch together making a fine pair of beaters. He couldn’t stand the thought of playing with anyone else and he was rubbish at any other position. The door to their room still remained closed. He wasn’t ready to go in there yet to see the sights and be greeted with the smells and to stand in the silence, which would be deafening.
He might be ready one day, but today was not that day. It was taking everything he had to survive. He’d lie awake at night trying not to think of these things yet it was what his mind always came back to. He was a weak Gryffndor, an improper sort he figured. He had no courage to face the world alone and the thought terrified him to his core.
“Grief does not change you. It reveals you.” - John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
Grief by definition means great sorrow. What no one tells you is that grief manifests itself in empty nothingness. He blinked and blinked again wishing hoping praying that when he opened his eyes there would be someone else in the room beside him. Except there hadn’t been anyone beside him in months. Only one bed in a small room that use to belong to Charlie. No one questioned or commented when he moved back into it, avoiding the shop and apartment all together.
He opened his eyes and was greeted by the eerily familiar sight. The house was quite, an odd sound for the burrow but nonetheless he got up and as if on autopilot made his way down the hallways, stopping outside of the closed door. He knew his mum went in there regularly. He could hear her sobs through the walls but never said anything. He didn’t know how.
He reached out and opened the door slipping inside of it for the first time since the incident. He found himself lying on the bed farthest from the door with no recollection of how he got there. his bed was the closer of the two. He lied down face first and took a few breaths in through his nose. The smell overwhelmed him and he could tell his vision was going blurry not for the first time in the past 24 hours. He didn’t care, his heart became tighten and his breaths became closer and closer together. This was physical pain. Next would come the numbness and the sense of drowning.
He wanted to be okay. If he could be okay in a moment he’d love that. To be able to smile. Tow ant to get out of bed. To be able to move on. Sometimes he felt more like a helpless child then an accomplished adult.
“You can't stop the future. You can't rewind the past. The only way to learn the secret...is to press play.” - Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why
Everyone was gathered in the family room by the time he came down to join them. There were smiles and polite welcomes as people moved to accommodate him. He sat down and tried to listen to the conversations around him. He had given up trying to follow what was being said when someone placed something in his arms. Not something, someone. There staring up at him through a mess of blankets was he nice. She gurgled and smiled, a small fuzz of red hair adorned her head. He smiled back, the action unfamiliar to him but she gurgled again and he was encouraged.
He’d never forget because he simple couldn’t but he’d learn to move on because he could. He wasn’t alone no matter how much he felt like that. All he had to do was let them.
The past hurt and time did not heal all wounds.
But it certainly helped easy the crushing sense that came with loss.
In that moment he knew he’d be okay. Everyone around him would make sure of it.
His brother’s legend would live on because he would make sure of it. Who better to tell the tales and adventures then someone else who had lived them.
Hogwarts wouldn’t know what hit it when it was time.
For the first time in awhile he laughed and it was genuine. He would be fine.
Morgan // Gryffindor // 50 points