~ A day earlier ~
Fred watched as George's chest raised and fell. He slept with his mouth slightly open, which gave him an oh-so-charming look. Not.
Fred wondered whether he looked the same way when he was asleep. Of course not, he thought to himself, I'm still the better-looking one. He grinned, but soon found he didn't think it was funny at all.
On the contrary.
He couldn't look like George when he was asleep. For one thing, he didn't think he could sleep at all, not in this creepy ghost-like form. Plus, George had aged, while he himself hadn't. No, Fred was still stuck being 20 years of age, never to turn 21, no matter how many April Fools' Days would pass.
Dammit, he had let that big greyish unhappiness cloud his mind again. He had promised himself not to let that happen! His only purpose in life – or afterlife, whatever – was to keep George happy, in order to do that he needed to at least pretend he was happy himself.
Unfortunately, Fred had found it harder and harder to keep himself happy as time went. It was as if a Dementor was creeping up on him, coming closer and closer every minute of every day. The unhappy thoughts were impossible to get rid of by now, while the joyous thoughts slipped away more quickly.
Dementors. Yes, that's what it felt like. He remembered the first time he had encountered one, on the train to Hogwarts, in their fifth year. He'd heard stories of his dad about those horrible creatures before, but he never imagined them to be that terrible. That feeling they had given him... It was indescribable. Luckily George had been on his side at that time, like always. He had felt exactly the same way and they could talk to each other about it.
Only now there wasn't even the possibility to talk to George about how he felt. He couldn't tell George he felt like he was slowly falling apart. He couldn't tell George how he had some difficulty with remembering things from the past. How he couldn't remember every kid in their year at Hogwarts, how yesterday he had even been in doubt about their best friend's first name; Leo? Lee?
The insecurities, the non-stop doubts, it was driving Fred crazy. It was like he felt himself fading away slowly, and he couldn't stop it. He often wondered what was going to happen to him. Would he have to stay with George forever, feeling this way? What if George just dropped that damn stone back in the Forest again?
But George would never do that. George would never let go of Fred, because Fred wouldn't be telling him how miserable he really felt. He couldn't.
George suddenly moved in his sleep. He turned around and put his arm around Angelina, who was lying next to him. Watching them, Fred felt like such a stalker. Just watching people while they were sleeping... Yes, he definitely considered himself a creep at that very moment. But he didn't have much of a choice. He had to keep close to the stone, he didn't seem to be able to move too far away from it. So he was literally stuck. No way out. He didn't think even killing himself would get him out of this. He had already died once, and he can't die twice, can he? Not that he wanted to kill himself, of course, he couldn't do that to George.
No, he would be strong. For his brother. For his best friend. For his partner in crime.
He would just do what he had done all his life: smile it away and pretend everything's okay.
~
A beam of sunlight woke George up. He blinked a few times before looking around and noticing Angelina was already out of bed. Odd, usually she'd wake him up, even in the weekends. Something about 'not wanting to waist your day sleeping', George had never really understood it, let alone agreed to it.
He took a minute to stretch out and wake himself up. Then he glanced at the clock – What? Half past one already? It couldn't be!
Cursing to himself, he rolled out of bed – literally – and trudged towards his wardrobe. Looking for some fitting clothes to wear on his day off, his eye fell on one of his older jackets, which was shoved away to the back of the wardrobe. He had bought it once, with Fred, when they first opened the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
“Oi, Fred, do you remember when we – ” George stopped talking and turned around. Why had he only now realised the silence around him? He clenched and unclenched his hands quickly a couple of times. They were empty, how could they be empty?!
Panic.
He searched his pockets, searched the floor, his night stand, his bed, once, twice.
This couldn't be happening.
He had to find it. He had to.
“Not again, not again, not again.” He whispered. His mind was blank.
He searched the bed again, now tearing the blankets off it.
Thump.
A tiny black stone rolled from the blankets onto the ground.
Filled with relief, George sighed, accidentally dropping the stone another two times in his hurry. He held it tightly and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he cracked a smile. Fred was standing in front of him again, although he didn't seem quite the same as the past few weeks. He seemed confused, like he had been disturbed while thinking about something very serious. He also seemed rather... dull. Something had changed about him, not only about his expression, which was close to depression, but also about his appearance. It looked as if he was a little less solid, somehow, like he was covered in a grey haze.
Or maybe it was just that George wasn't fully awake yet. Maybe he just saw things that weren't there. Fred couldn't feel sick in the first place, now, could he? And what else could possibly be wrong with him?
Fred blinked. “What time is it?”
George grinned and pointed at the clock. “Good afternoon, Freddie!”
Though Fred didn't laugh. “Wow, I think I sort of passed out for a couple of hours...” He held his head with his hand as if he had a headache.
“Yeah, I think I dropped the stone in my sleep. I'm sorry.” George looked down at the floor, a little ashamed of himself for letting go of Fred that easily. “Are you okay?”
Fred nodded, finally cracking a smile. “Hey, what about going for a walk? I feel like going outside!”
George raised a brow. “Uhm... sure? Sounds like fun. Let's go!” He made his way to the hall to go outside.
“George?” Fred said, still standing at the same place.
George turned around. “Hmm?”
“Maybe you should put on some pants and a shirt first.” Fred pointed at him. “I don't think the muggles fancy half-naked guys walking through their town.”
George laughed and walked back to his wardrobe. “Shut up, you!”
A little while later George closed the front door and the twins set off for a walk.
“Anywhere in particular you wanna go to?”
Fred shrugged. “Dunno, just wanted to go out for a while.”
George eyed him suspiciously. “Is everything allright, Fred?” Now that he had been awake for some time and a nice spring breeze had cleared his senses, he definitely saw that something was wrong with Fred.
“What?” Fred answered, surprised. “Of course!” That smile appeared again. “Nothing wrong, I'm fine.” He glided towards the edge of the forest, which wasn't all too far from their house.
George decided to stop talking about it and followed his brother into the woods. They walked on in silence for a while, not talking to nor looking at one another. George felt terrible about this. Once, a long time ago, they could've told each other everything, absolutely everything. But now, with this awkward silence between them... He just knew Fred was hiding something from him, if only he knew what.
Why didn't he just ask him, he thought.
Maybe it was this awful feeling inside his chest which kept him from doing so. He suspected it was the memory of the time before he had found the stone. The loneliness, the desperation.
He just didn't want to lose Fred ever again, not in any way. Perhaps he was afraid Fred would become mad at him, if he kept on asking what was wrong.
Oh great, now the weather seemed to have taken over George's mood. Raindrops began to fall down and the sky was covered in dark clouds, giving the forest a shadowy atmosphere. Even the trees seemed to have adapted the greyness.
He heard Fred coughing next to him. After another short silence, Fred said something, finally.
“Remember that time when we tried to eavesdrop on the Order, when Crookshanks demolished our Extendible Ears?”
George was confused. So they were back to reminiscing, then? Hadn't Fred felt the uncomfortable sphere around them?
“Uhm, I remember, yes.”
“I was so pissed at that bloody cat back then.” Fred chuckled. “But in the end, it was all pretty funny, don't you think?”
George recalled that moment, how they all stood on the third or fourth floor of Sirius' house, a thin robe hanging down towards the ground floor. They must've looked like idiots, how they all eagerly held on to the end of the rope, trying to hear whatever was being said by the people in the kitchen.
And then there came Crookshanks, being his cat-like annoying self.
“Yeah, maybe it was kind of hilarious...” George said, grinning. “I could've killed that cat back then, though. And if mum would've caught us...”
“...A howler would've been nothing compared to what she would've done to us.”
“Absolutely nothing.”
The rain began to pour down right now, so the twins looked at one another and gave a simultaneous nod. They quickly made their way to one of the bigger trees in the forest and sat down near the tree trunk, using it as shelter.
George didn't have a clue for how long they sat there. They spent there time reminiscing several other idiotic things they'd done in the past, like how they stole Percy's badge all the time, giving it some 'necessary changes'.
It didn't take long for George to forget about all his worries and he soon felt like he was 19 again, just sitting in his room with Fred, talking about everything. Oh yes, they hadn't always been busy preparing pranks. Sometimes they just felt like talking, even about the more serious issues.
Soon the leaves of the tree couldn't stop the rain anymore and Fred and George needed to find a new place to shelter. But since everything was soaked by now, they decided to head back home instead.
“Hey, what's that?” Fred said suddenly as they were walking, pointing to some point in the distance, near the edge of the forest. George looked and saw two dark figures moving towards them. One of them had long, dark hair, the other's was cut short and seemed rather messy. Neither of them had an umbrella.
“I think that is...”
“Angelina.” George finished Fred's sentence for him. “But what on earth is she doing here, in the rain? And who's with her?”
Suddenly they heard a voice, yelling.
“GEORGE!”
Why did she sound so worried?
Fred and George threw one perplexed glance at each other before they started running towards Angelina.
George didn't get the change to say a single thing when he reached Angelina, as the girl had thrown her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“George, oh George, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!”
George, who was still slightly confused, just pulled her away a little, looking into her eyes. “Angelina, what are you talking about?”
Now Angelina faced the ground, refusing to look George in the eyes, as if she were ashamed. The second figure appeared behind her, it was Harry, who looked slightly out of breath.
George looked at Fred, who just shrugged. They silently agreed; sense it made none.
However, Harry didn't give any explanation and simply stated: “You have to give me the stone, George.”
George's eyes grew wide. How did he know about the stone? He couldn't! The only person who could've possibly told him about it was...
“You told him?” He stepped away from Angelina.
Angelina looked like a shy fallen angel, fragile and sad. “I-I'm so so sorry!” She stammered. “I was just so worried about you a-and Ginny – ”
“I told you not to tell anyone!” George felt an unexplainable rage burning inside of him, couldn't he trust any living person on this earth anymore?
“Take it easy.” Fred whispered, trying to calm George down. Not that it helped much, though.
“I trusted you!”
Harry put a hand on his shoulder. “Be reasonable, George. She just wants the best for you, she loves you.”
“Get your hands off of me, Harry!” George stepped back, the stone clenched in his fist. He heard Fred breathing out loudly next to him, as if he wanted to say something but didn't know exactly how to put it.
“George.” Harry's voice was as cold as ice. “Give. Me. The. Stone.”
Hiding his hands behind his back, George thought; Never.
In one simple smooth move Harry had drawn his wand.
“Accio.”
George felt the stone slip out of his hands, the breathing had stopped and when he looked back, Fred wasn't there. Harry, on the other side, was standing opposite of him, seeming quite fond of himself. He wrapped George's dear stone in a piece of cloth and put it away into his pocket.
“Now, we need to talk.” Harry said calmly.
However, George didn't feel like talking at all.
Just as calmly, George said. “Give me back the stone.”
Harry said nothing, he merely shook his head, slowly.
“Please, just understand I'm trying to help you!” Angelina cried. “It's for the best!”
“For the best?” George answered unbelieving. “I was happy, Angelina. For the first time in years, I was actually happy. Why did you have to take that away from me?”
Angelina just sobbed.
“Don't you see what it's doing to you?!” Harry sounded angry now. “It's consuming you, both you and Fred. It's wrong to hold on to the people who're supposed to be gone, George, you should know that.”
“WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT IT?” George yelled.
“Actually, quite much.” How could he stay so calm? The anger inside of George took over. He wanted his brother back. He needed that stone back. In a wave of emotions, he ran towards Harry. And he hit him.
Harry was thunderstruck, slowly he raised his hand to his face and touched the sore spot where George's fist had hit him.
“That's it.” He said. “I'm not going to finish this... conversation in the rain. Come, Angelina.”
He disapparated.
Angelina looked at George, disappointed. “What have you done?” She simply asked, and a moment later she disapparated as well.
George hadn't ever felt this horrible in his life. He was alone – completely alone in this godforsaken forest. He wouldn't let Harry take his brother away, so he quickly followed his wife and brother-in-law and disapparated to the edge of the forest.
Harry and Angelina were standing near the kitchen window of his house, peeking inside as if they were trying to watch something or someone inside the house.
“Give it back, Harry!” George yelled.
But he didn't get any reply, except for a simultaneous “Shhhh!”.
“What?”
Breaking noises sounded from inside the house. Scratch that, it sounded like the whole house was turned upside down, like a bloody hurricane was destroying the place.
“What on earth is happening in there?” George asked.
“You mean who is happening in there?” Harry corrected him, pointing at the window.