It took me some time, but here's the next chapter!
This is dedicated to Dalrian, since he always reads whatever nonsense I write and since he introduced me to the song that's attached to this chapter. Why I chose this song? Well, I love it in general, and I think no one should ever feel left alone or left out. There's always someone who's willing to listen to your problems.
Have fun reading! Please tell me what you think!
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It's hard to concentrate and focus when two people are talking – no, yelling – to you at the same time, and it gets even more difficult when one of those two people has no idea the other person exists. Ugh, George managed to confuse himself merely by thinking about the absurdness of the situation.
Fred had basically been telling George what to do from the moment Angelina walked in on them. 'Mental support', his brother called it. However, George rather referred to it as 'annoying background noise'. He knew that Fred was just trying to help him, but Fred, too, hadn't made up his mind yet on what to do, so his advise varied from “Maybe telling her you have a fever and therefore suffer from hallucinations will make her leave...” to the more serious “Just tell her about everything already, she's suspecting things anyway.”.
In the end Fred kept more to the latter and began a monologue on why it was better for Angelina to know the entire story – and that was when George had screwed up and had practically made his decision without even realizing it.
“Shut up!” George yelled.
Angelina looked at him, shocked. “What did you just say to me?”
Fred threw his hands up in the air and then sat down on the floor, looking slightly amused. “Well, this is not exactly the way I imagined it would happen...”
George firstly tried to talk himself out of it, which was impossible, of course. He knew very well that if Angelina put her mind to something, it was going to happen one way or another anyway. He didn't want to lose Fred, he obviously didn't. But he didn't want to lose Angelina either. Angelina was the one who had stayed with him through everything, the only one who had managed to make him feel alive again after he had lost his brother. He couldn't be dishonest with her, she didn't deserve that. He had known that for a long time already, he just didn't want to realise that that meant sharing his precious secret with her.
He shivered, why did the room seem so cold all of a sudden?
“We've got something to admit.” he sighed. He then turned around and pointed his wand at the fireplace. A fire started immediately, giving the room a shallow glow.
He threw a glance at Fred, who was now – finally – quiet. Fred just shrugged as if to say 'it's all up to you now, mate!' and George sighed again before he faced Angelina. She still wore that shocked expression, George hated it. He hated himself for making her go through all of this.
“Just... Don't panic when I tell you the entire story, okay?” he muttered. He had never felt this insecure and shy in his life. Keeping secrets from people was something he had done for years, regularly, even before 1998, but this was different. This wasn't 'just a secret'.
“'Don't panic'?” Fred interrupted almost immediately. “Are you kidding me? Have you seen her face? She looks like she just saw a ghost or something!”
He fell silent for a second and then shook his head a few times quickly.
“And I didn't even mean that ironically.”
George looked at him. Even though the situation was everything except for comfortable, he chuckled lightly. “Seriously?”
“I know, not funny. I'm sorry. I'll shut up now.” Fred put his arms around his knees as he looked up at his brother. “She'll be OK. She'll understand. Don't worry.”
Angelina hadn't said a thing yet, her mind was probably too busy with either trying to figure out what was going on or contemplating whether or not to take George to St. Mungo's because he was talking to someone who she thought wasn't there.
Impulsive as he was, George made his way towards her and hugged her tightly, keeping his right hand clenched into a fist, still holding the tiny black stone as if his life depended on it. “Please, don't panic. Don't worry.”
Angelina buried her face in his shoulder. “Just tell me already. Tell me what's going on. Maybe... Maybe I can help you with whatever it is. Maybe we can figure it out together.”
“Wait, what?” George said, withdrawing from the hug as he wanted to look Angelina in the eyes. “There's nothing to figure out! It isn't a bad thing I'm about to tell you.” He chuckled again. “It's not a bad thing at all!”
Angelina wiped a tear from her cheek as she replied, confused. “You're supposed to clear things up for me, remember?”
He nodded. “I know, I know. Now, let me explain everything. And don't blame me if it doesn't make sense, because it is kind of crazy and I have no idea where to start.” That was his problem. He honestly didn't know where to start, what to say to her. Should he make her sit down, calm down, first? Maybe he should offer her a drink. He'd always thought Fred was more of a gentleman than he was when it came to that kind of stuff, he would know what to do to make Angelina feel more comfortable. He made a little 'help me' gesture towards Fred, who was still sitting on the floor and was – for some reason – awkwardly intertwining his fingers.
George raised his brow.
“What?” Fred said. “I just feel like some kind of stalker, watching you guys get all cuddly...”
George smothered a laugh. Never mind, he thought. “Right. Anyway, I'd better get straight to the point.” He looked at Angelina, then at Fred, at the ceiling, the floor, the enormous pile of papers for the Wheezes he still had to go through. He took another breath and said the words. “Fred is still here.”
Angelina sounded as if she was choking on pumpkin juice and for a moment George was glad he hadn't offered her that drink. If he had, he might just have had to make use of those first aid lessons Hermione had forced Ron and him to take – which had been ridiculous, really.
“What? What do you mean, he's still here?” Angelina shook her head in confusion. “You're crazy, he can't be here. That's impossible.”
“Breath, Angelina, easy!” George grabbed her shoulders. “It's true! I mean, I won't say I'm not crazy, but he really is here!”
“Not possible.”
“Stubborn as always, I see?” Fred bumped in. “Maybe you should...” He pointed at George's hand.
George nodded and focused on Angelina again, who now had her hands in her hair and her eyes closed. “He says you haven't changed a thing. You're still as stubborn as you were back at school.” George said.
“Shut up, this can't be happening. Please, George, get back to your senses again. You know as well as I do that no spell can bring back the–”
“No spell can bring back the dead. I know. Just hear me out!” George interrupted her.
“You're not going to tell me he isn't dead, right? Because I saw him, George. You saw him, that night in the Great Hall! There's no way on earth he'd –”
“Angelina.”
“What?!?” Sometimes Angelina's rants reminded George a bit of his mum – in a good way, of course.
“Hear me out? Please?”
Angelina sighed, trying not to lose her mind. “Sure, but if you say anything else that doesn't make sense, I'm taking you to St. Mungo's, I swear.”
Laughing, George said, “So you really think I'm crazy?”
“That's my best guess, yes.”
“Do me a favour, will you?” George held out his right hand and opened it, showing the black stone. “Think of Fred, of anything that has to do with Fred, and take my hand.”
Angelina looked at the stone cautiously. “What is that?”
“Just trust me.” George pressed.
Angelina looked restrained, but put her hand on George's in the end. She thought for a moment, then she smiled slightly. “Do you remember that time during Quidditch practise, when you and Fred did one of those crazy experiments on yourselves and had difficulty flying your brooms?”
“Did you really have to pick that memory? Like I could ever forget that. Those boils... That was just horrible.” George flinched as he remembered that terrible rainy day.
“I was so angry with you, but I couldn't help but laugh when I saw you two on those brooms. It was hilarious!”
“Well, you try flying properly while you're in that condition, you'd look ridiculous too!” Fred said.
Angelina turned around, her smile turned into a shocked expression as she saw Fred sitting on the floor. She panicked, stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, letting go of George's hand in the process. “What... No way!” She yelled.
“Still think I'm crazy?”
“That is NOT funny George!” Tears began streaming down Angelina's face. “What was that? How is this even possible?”
“Why don't you let him explain it himself?” George said as he held out his hand again.
Angelina got to her feet and hesitated. She had seen Fred, she was absolutely sure about that. She was also absolutely sure that that wasn't possible. Or was it?
Curiosity took the upper hand.
As soon as her fingers touched the stone again, Fred appeared, standing exactly at the place she had just seen him sitting.
“Fred?” She asked, not knowing what to say.
“The one and only.” He answered with a grin.
Angelina shook her head once again. “That's it. I'm crazy. Absolutely insane.”
“No, you're not.” George said, squeezing her hand.
Now the waterworks had really started. Angelina couldn't take her eyes off Fred, who hadn't aged at all since he had died. Though he did have some kind of strange appearance, like he wasn't exactly... solid. He kept grinning at her like an idiot.
“Fred... I... I'm so sorry! I missed you so much! Are you in pain? Are you okay? How is this possible?” All kinds of relevant and irrelevant questions popped up in her head and she was desperate to get an answer to them when she had the chance.
“Wow, take it easy.” Fred laughed. “I'm all right! I'm perfectly fine! And to be honest, I don't have a clue what's going on or how this is even possible.”
“What is this thing?” she asked suddenly, gesturing towards the little stone, which was now cupped in her and George's hands.
George started to explain where he'd found the stone and how he found out what it could do, Fred corrected him on some points or added bits to the story. Soon Angelina felt like she was sixteen again, talking to the twins in the common room about all kinds of stuff. She tried to wipe her tears away, but they kept coming. Seeing George talking like this, happy and complete, with Fred by his side, it was just too much for her.
However, there was a small thought circling her mind that she couldn't get rid of. What kind of magic is this? Is it dangerous? Playing with the balance of nature couldn't be a good thing, it just couldn't.
“... And that's how we got here.” Fred concluded their story.
Angelina smiled. “This is just too weird.”
“I know right?” George said.
“Don't you think we should tell the others, though.” Angelina said, speaking out the thought that had suddenly popped into her head. “Ron, Ginny, Percy, your mum and dad... Don't you think they should know?”
Fred and George had the exact same expression of bewilderment on their faces.
“I don't think...” George started, but Fred interrupted him quickly.
“George is glad he's got someone to trust for now.” He hesitated for a minute and looked at his brother. “I think it's for the best to give it some time. If only a few days.”
Angelina looked at them, still not succeeding in keeping the tears from falling. There was something more behind this, she knew just by looking at the twins.
“We cause a lot of problems, don't we?” George joked, breaking the silence that had followed Fred's words.
“Yeah, but that's what we do, right? Causing trouble at all times.” Fred replied.
Angelina smiled through her tears. “Fred and George Weasley, causing trouble from beyond the grave… Who would’ve thought?”
The twins looked at one another and chuckled.
“'Grave' is such a heavy word.” George said.
“We prefer the term 'Inbetween'.” Fred added.
“And after all this time, you still finish each other's sentences. Does anything ever change?”