Drabble: Here Now
Title: Here Now
Rating: 1st - 2nd Years
Warnings: Character Death
Word Count: 543
Character/Pairings: George Weasley
Summary: George begins to find peace.
Written for: MNFF's Three Broomsticks Challenge - New Year
Author's Notes: This has been in my head for months now, and I couldn't find inspiration to write it recently. I was inspired by Linkin Park's "Leave Out All The Rest" song/lyrics. I might extend it to a longer one-shot.
All of our lives we behaved like children even after we legally became adults; too immature to grow up but we didn't care because we had each other. And that was all that mattered. We spent most of the day playing pranks on our siblings and then hiding to avoid their wrath. I'm sure we drove our mother insane a couple of times, and even while at Hogwarts we managed ignite her temper, I'm sure. But we were just two children who wanted to have a good time - something to laugh at when the world was gloomy with the threat of Dark wizards, homework, detentions, and Potions class with Severus Snape.
But we knew we'd have to grow up eventually.
When I lost an ear the reality of the war began to sober us up even if I tried to joke about it. We both knew that there was a high probability that one of us wouldn't make it through alive. That ear wasn't just a small sacrifice for the safety of Harry Potter, but a symbol of how close we had come to losing each other - one centimeter further and it could have been my entire head instead.
We grew closer that year than any other before. An impossibility many would say considering we were already twins - the closest bond shared between two humans - at least that's what the Muggles claim. When I lost you at the Battle of Hogwarts, a part of me died with you. I sat, catatonic, staring at my lifeless self - willing you to come back; to wake up, and tell me it was all a joke. To say I was devastated doesn't even begin to describe how I felt that night.
Hermione says that grief is different for everyone. It seemed I got stuck in an angry-depression for months after the war. I isolated myself in my despair. I was angry at you for dying and leaving me alone to face the world; angry at myself for not watching out for you better; angry at Harry Potter for not getting rid of Voldemort faster. And too depressed to do anything other than be angry. I let our business go to ruins. Would you believe that Ron took over during that time? I didn't quite believe it until I finally was brave enough to step back into our world. I didn't go back for another nine months. It was too painful the first time so I fled. The ghost of you was everywhere. It still is.
It's been three years since I last saw you. The last time I looked into your eyes - the eyes that would light up with the knowledge of pranks played on others over many years, and crinkled just so when I said something particularly funny.
It's been hard to move on. Sometimes I slip up and say "we" instead of "I" or "me". Today is our birthday: we're turning 23. Well, I am. You'll eternally be 20.
I'm sorry I didn't come visit your final resting place sooner. The thought of you lying dead below me was too much to bear. I felt guilt for leaving you alone to face the cold and darkness. But I'm here now.
Rating: 1st - 2nd Years
Warnings: Character Death
Word Count: 543
Character/Pairings: George Weasley
Summary: George begins to find peace.
Written for: MNFF's Three Broomsticks Challenge - New Year
Author's Notes: This has been in my head for months now, and I couldn't find inspiration to write it recently. I was inspired by Linkin Park's "Leave Out All The Rest" song/lyrics. I might extend it to a longer one-shot.
All of our lives we behaved like children even after we legally became adults; too immature to grow up but we didn't care because we had each other. And that was all that mattered. We spent most of the day playing pranks on our siblings and then hiding to avoid their wrath. I'm sure we drove our mother insane a couple of times, and even while at Hogwarts we managed ignite her temper, I'm sure. But we were just two children who wanted to have a good time - something to laugh at when the world was gloomy with the threat of Dark wizards, homework, detentions, and Potions class with Severus Snape.
But we knew we'd have to grow up eventually.
When I lost an ear the reality of the war began to sober us up even if I tried to joke about it. We both knew that there was a high probability that one of us wouldn't make it through alive. That ear wasn't just a small sacrifice for the safety of Harry Potter, but a symbol of how close we had come to losing each other - one centimeter further and it could have been my entire head instead.
We grew closer that year than any other before. An impossibility many would say considering we were already twins - the closest bond shared between two humans - at least that's what the Muggles claim. When I lost you at the Battle of Hogwarts, a part of me died with you. I sat, catatonic, staring at my lifeless self - willing you to come back; to wake up, and tell me it was all a joke. To say I was devastated doesn't even begin to describe how I felt that night.
Hermione says that grief is different for everyone. It seemed I got stuck in an angry-depression for months after the war. I isolated myself in my despair. I was angry at you for dying and leaving me alone to face the world; angry at myself for not watching out for you better; angry at Harry Potter for not getting rid of Voldemort faster. And too depressed to do anything other than be angry. I let our business go to ruins. Would you believe that Ron took over during that time? I didn't quite believe it until I finally was brave enough to step back into our world. I didn't go back for another nine months. It was too painful the first time so I fled. The ghost of you was everywhere. It still is.
It's been three years since I last saw you. The last time I looked into your eyes - the eyes that would light up with the knowledge of pranks played on others over many years, and crinkled just so when I said something particularly funny.
It's been hard to move on. Sometimes I slip up and say "we" instead of "I" or "me". Today is our birthday: we're turning 23. Well, I am. You'll eternally be 20.
I'm sorry I didn't come visit your final resting place sooner. The thought of you lying dead below me was too much to bear. I felt guilt for leaving you alone to face the cold and darkness. But I'm here now.