A Redhaired Trio-The Final Story
Title: The Calm After The Storm
Summary: DH Spoilers. Last in the Red Haired Trio series. The war is over, and Fred is gone. How do Ginny and George cope without him?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea.
Author’s Notes: It is with a heavy heart that I close the book on this series. I loved writing them, loved the insight it gave me into three of my favourite characters. When Fred died I was devastated, and I couldn’t imagine how I was going to address that. But I knew I had to, knew that the series wouldn’t be complete without this last story. I just want to thank all my reviewers, and thank my pre-beta, and Janet. They’ve helped me so much.
The war was over, and most people moved on. The people who died were made into icons, and those who had fought pestered for information regarding the final battle.
For Ginny, it was a confusing time of funerals, wakes, and long speeches that she couldn’t quite focus on. She spent a lot of time with Harry, talking about nothing in particular, and just letting the world pass them by.
It wasn’t until the night after Fred’s funeral that something occurred to her.
Her brother was gone. Fred, her Fred, who had kissed her skinned knees better and hugged her after her nightmares was gone. He’d never call her Gin-kin again, never make her laugh with a silly joke … he was gone. The Red Haired Trio … they’d never pull a prank together again …
The sheer magnitude of that thought had her gasping for air, had the panic that she’d kept at bay through pure bloody-mindedness threatening to overwhelm her. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wailed into them, scalding tears soaking her nightdress, and running down freckled thighs.
“Nooo …” she moaned, biting on her lower lip to keep screams of grief from waking her parents. “Oh Merlin … why, Fred? Why?”
Her door creaked open, and a long figure snuck in. For a moment, one heart-rending moment, she thought it was all a dream, and Fred was still here. Then, a moonbeam caught the shadows of his face, and she saw that it was George.
“Gin-kin?” He climbed up onto the bed with her. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
“He’s gone, oh Merlin he’s gone and George I don’t know what to do! How am I supposed to live without him?” she sobbed. “He was my knight and you were my dragon, and now I’ve got no one to save me.”
“You have a different knight now, Gin, remember?” George told her gently, pulling her into his arms.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and he smelled like Fred, but not. Instead of burned curtains it was the smell of potions ingredients, because George was better at Potions, just like Fred was better at Charms. But it hadn’t mattered because they always helped one another and got exactly the same grades in everything. But who would help George now?
She gave another wail, and clung to him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she blubbered. “How are we supposed to live without him? I don’t want another knight; I want Fred! I love Harry, but why can’t I still have Fred too?”
“You do, Gin-kin.” George pulled away and smiled, even though the tears ran down his cheeks at the thought of his twin, his other half. He more than anyone knew what Ginny was going through. Fred was his soul, and now it was broken. “He’s my twin, remember? And those we love never really leave us, they’re always in here.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “One day we’ll meet again at King’s Cross, and we’ll all hop on the train together and have a grand time. But for now, Fred wouldn’t want us to cry, he wouldn’t want us to despair. He liked us to be happy.”
“I know,” Ginny sniffed, scrubbing at the tears on her flushed cheeks, the pain making her want to howl. But she struggled to stop for George’s sake, he felt just as bad as she did, if not more so. “I know he liked to make us laugh.”
“And you have some of him in you, too, you know,” George continued softly, his blue eyes twinkling. “Your stubbornness, your ability to dream, they all come from Fred. While you live, and while I live, he’ll never really die.”
The youngest Weasley hiccupped softly, brown eyes searching her older brother’s face, checking for any hint of doubt. “Do I really?”
“Yes. C’mere.” George wrapped his arm around her, and pulled them both down on the bed so Ginny’s head was cuddled in the crook of his shoulder, and his was pillowed on hers. She felt him kiss her hair, and she sighed softly, loving how safe she felt. “Do you remember when we taught you how to fight?”
Ginny nodded. “You spent all day letting me beat you up.”
“We did. And do you remember the time you ate the pie Mum left on the sill and you were sick?”
“Fred found the potion to cure an upset tummy and you made it. Mum never found out, she thought the chickens had gotten to it.”
“Remember when you pranked us because we broke your doll?”
“Uh huh,” she quavered, tears sliding down her face. But these weren’t painful tears, they were sad, yes, but not painful. The storm had passed, and these tears were ones of relief, as she remembered the good times with George.
The pair talked well into the night, eventually falling asleep in one another’s arms, drawing comfort from each other, from the fact that they weren’t alone.
And Harry, when he peeked in the next morning, could find no reason to be jealous of the fact that Ginny had shared her tears with her brother, instead of with him.
And Molly Weasley felt the beginnings of a smile quirk her mouth, when she saw how tightly the pair clung to one another, even in sleep. She saw the flush of their cheeks, and knew that they’d cried. And she knew that while her Fred was gone, and poor George no longer had his twin, he would never be alone.
And for that, she was very thankful.
The End
Summary: DH Spoilers. Last in the Red Haired Trio series. The war is over, and Fred is gone. How do Ginny and George cope without him?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea.
Author’s Notes: It is with a heavy heart that I close the book on this series. I loved writing them, loved the insight it gave me into three of my favourite characters. When Fred died I was devastated, and I couldn’t imagine how I was going to address that. But I knew I had to, knew that the series wouldn’t be complete without this last story. I just want to thank all my reviewers, and thank my pre-beta, and Janet. They’ve helped me so much.
The war was over, and most people moved on. The people who died were made into icons, and those who had fought pestered for information regarding the final battle.
For Ginny, it was a confusing time of funerals, wakes, and long speeches that she couldn’t quite focus on. She spent a lot of time with Harry, talking about nothing in particular, and just letting the world pass them by.
It wasn’t until the night after Fred’s funeral that something occurred to her.
Her brother was gone. Fred, her Fred, who had kissed her skinned knees better and hugged her after her nightmares was gone. He’d never call her Gin-kin again, never make her laugh with a silly joke … he was gone. The Red Haired Trio … they’d never pull a prank together again …
The sheer magnitude of that thought had her gasping for air, had the panic that she’d kept at bay through pure bloody-mindedness threatening to overwhelm her. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wailed into them, scalding tears soaking her nightdress, and running down freckled thighs.
“Nooo …” she moaned, biting on her lower lip to keep screams of grief from waking her parents. “Oh Merlin … why, Fred? Why?”
Her door creaked open, and a long figure snuck in. For a moment, one heart-rending moment, she thought it was all a dream, and Fred was still here. Then, a moonbeam caught the shadows of his face, and she saw that it was George.
“Gin-kin?” He climbed up onto the bed with her. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
“He’s gone, oh Merlin he’s gone and George I don’t know what to do! How am I supposed to live without him?” she sobbed. “He was my knight and you were my dragon, and now I’ve got no one to save me.”
“You have a different knight now, Gin, remember?” George told her gently, pulling her into his arms.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and he smelled like Fred, but not. Instead of burned curtains it was the smell of potions ingredients, because George was better at Potions, just like Fred was better at Charms. But it hadn’t mattered because they always helped one another and got exactly the same grades in everything. But who would help George now?
She gave another wail, and clung to him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she blubbered. “How are we supposed to live without him? I don’t want another knight; I want Fred! I love Harry, but why can’t I still have Fred too?”
“You do, Gin-kin.” George pulled away and smiled, even though the tears ran down his cheeks at the thought of his twin, his other half. He more than anyone knew what Ginny was going through. Fred was his soul, and now it was broken. “He’s my twin, remember? And those we love never really leave us, they’re always in here.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “One day we’ll meet again at King’s Cross, and we’ll all hop on the train together and have a grand time. But for now, Fred wouldn’t want us to cry, he wouldn’t want us to despair. He liked us to be happy.”
“I know,” Ginny sniffed, scrubbing at the tears on her flushed cheeks, the pain making her want to howl. But she struggled to stop for George’s sake, he felt just as bad as she did, if not more so. “I know he liked to make us laugh.”
“And you have some of him in you, too, you know,” George continued softly, his blue eyes twinkling. “Your stubbornness, your ability to dream, they all come from Fred. While you live, and while I live, he’ll never really die.”
The youngest Weasley hiccupped softly, brown eyes searching her older brother’s face, checking for any hint of doubt. “Do I really?”
“Yes. C’mere.” George wrapped his arm around her, and pulled them both down on the bed so Ginny’s head was cuddled in the crook of his shoulder, and his was pillowed on hers. She felt him kiss her hair, and she sighed softly, loving how safe she felt. “Do you remember when we taught you how to fight?”
Ginny nodded. “You spent all day letting me beat you up.”
“We did. And do you remember the time you ate the pie Mum left on the sill and you were sick?”
“Fred found the potion to cure an upset tummy and you made it. Mum never found out, she thought the chickens had gotten to it.”
“Remember when you pranked us because we broke your doll?”
“Uh huh,” she quavered, tears sliding down her face. But these weren’t painful tears, they were sad, yes, but not painful. The storm had passed, and these tears were ones of relief, as she remembered the good times with George.
The pair talked well into the night, eventually falling asleep in one another’s arms, drawing comfort from each other, from the fact that they weren’t alone.
And Harry, when he peeked in the next morning, could find no reason to be jealous of the fact that Ginny had shared her tears with her brother, instead of with him.
And Molly Weasley felt the beginnings of a smile quirk her mouth, when she saw how tightly the pair clung to one another, even in sleep. She saw the flush of their cheeks, and knew that they’d cried. And she knew that while her Fred was gone, and poor George no longer had his twin, he would never be alone.
And for that, she was very thankful.
The End