Right away, despite the evident pain he could hear in Fred’s voice, Fred was cracking jokes, and George knew what his game was. Knew that they were both here hurting and Fred’s intention was to ease that somewhat… But when you yourself were someone who did that for other people, who lived to brighten up the lives of everyone around you, and who often used jokes as a tactic to hide your own suffering, it was kind of hard to let the heaviness lift when you were hurting like George felt he was. He wanted to laugh, or smile at least, but the truth was, since that day he’d lost his twin, George hadn’t been the same either. It felt hard to go about his day, it felt hard to get out of bed in the morning when he’d wake up and realise that Fred wasn’t there and it was like a punch to the cut every time. Not wanting Fred to think he was ignoring him, he let his lips pull in a very faint way, before he dipped his head for a moment, only looking back up when his brother began to speak again, asking how their mum was, and then he began to explain his rules.
This was hard. Harder than he thought it would be. He thought that coming here, seeing Fred here would be easy because he’d finally have what he wanted back, but it wasn’t the same, it was still harbouring all the pain of what happened. It wasn’t even like he could look at it as though… Fred had just moved away, because he hadn’t.
It was when he began to speak about how they had been pals since the beginning, because it had always been the two of them, and list all the things he had to do in his life, that George felt himself losing it again, dipping his head once more and his hand that was tugging at his jumper sleeve came up to wipe at his eyes. How maybe one day, his kids would be walking these corridors, and would be laughing and causing trouble with their uncle… But their uncle should be there at the shop, should be able to come over and visit, family get together, not stuck here, not a ghost. Nothing about this was right and George couldn’t shake that feeling. Sucking in a somewhat shaken breath, he managed to look back up at Fred again, looking at him through blurry eyes, and he saw the sadness on his twin too. — That was the thing. They had both always been jokers, with mischievous grins and twinkles in their eyes but they both knew the emotions beneath that surface too. “ It’s okay, Freddie.” He swallowed, the tone of his voice much more somber nowadays. “ No need to be sorry. I haven’t been doing so well since either. ” Honestly, it wasn’t like the Weasley family had lost just one of the twins, it was more like they had lost both of them, because George certainly hadn’t been the same since. “ Your promise… I don’t even know what my plan is anymore. ” He told his brother honestly, furrow coming to his brow as his eyes flickered away. He didn’t want to promise something that he didn’t know he could keep.
It's okay, Freddie.
But it isn't. He knows that it isn't. He watches George, the pain he can feel himself is only intensified by that of his twin brother. It was suppose to be them, always. Together and forever. Their time had been cut short, far too short. Now they were pulled away, distant, whole worlds between them. He wishes for nothing more in the world to be able to hug his brother. Had he known he wasn't going to make it through the war, he would've done that more. Hugging George, hugging their mum, all of them.
How can he expect George to be so strong when he can't do it himself? He thought he had it all sorted out, emotions tucked away. And yet, here the emotions were very much not put away, very much not under control as he felt that burning in his throat, in his nose. The tears, however, physically didn't come. It ripped him apart from the inside until the sound ripped through the air. No wonder Moaning Myrtle was so bloody annoying. It was damn near impossible to keep the agony locked up tight.
Fred pulled a face, feeling ashamed for the way everything was spilling out. He didn't care what others thought but to put George through this when he was so obviously dealing with enough pain, enough confusion and everything he must be going through. He knew, Fred knew because he felt it on his end. He didn't want George to be with him, but he wanted to be with George. They had plans, big dreams that weren't finished yet. Many jokes to share, laughs to bring to the world and each other. But just like that, the light had went out and everything snatched away from them.
There was so much, so much left undone. So much left unsaid. A whole lifetime of memories that they'd never get to make. They were suppose to be old men before death ever crossed them, and instead, now the only time he'd be an old man had been that moment they tried to put their names into the Goblet of Fire.
Your promise… I don’t even know what my plan is anymore.
"Georgie," His name leaves Fred's lips before he can stop it. "Don't give up. Please. Everything we planned..." It's selfish, he knows that. He knows he would fall apart if it were him in the shoes of the living twin. They had always been so well connected, reading minds just from a glance or facial expression. "Won't you live for me? Live for us. Live the life we planned for us, brother. Those dreams are still my dreams. Are they not yours? You can visit and we can discuss. I cannot touch to create or make potions but I still can speak. I can try, Georgie. It's us, when have we ever let boundaries stop us?"
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