Post by Charlotte Blue on Mar 17, 2008 21:10:36 GMT -5
Disclaimer: I’m not JK Rowling. I don’t own any of these characters, except for Brooke and Mia Black.
This story was written for a fanfic competition on Third Floor Corridor. I’ll explain more about TFC later, but it’s a great site. If you decide to join, make sure you tell them that Emma sent you.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
She had always loved him. Even at those memorable times where they’d fought and fought, and she had denied her love for him, it was still there.
He was able to tell her everyday, about how much he loved her. She would roll her eyes, laugh it off, but in her heart, it meant the world to her.
He was the world to her.
And her world fell apart without him beside her.
It had all started with his twin brother.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
George Weasley sighed heavily. He felt like the sky had fallen and squashed him to pieces. No. He felt worse than that. He felt like he’d been burned alive, only to be brought back to life with the burns still burning.
So, all in all, he felt awful.
Fred was gone. Dead.
George hadn’t been able to cry at all.
Apparently, not being able to cry over your twin brother while needing to was an awful feeling. A really awful feeling.
George hadn’t laughed since Fred’s death. He hadn’t spoken Fred’s name since his death. George had long since given up hope that if he refused to admit that Fred was dead, that Fred would come back as merry as before and cure the Weasley family with his presence. So George had resolved to sit in his room, firewhiskey in hand, and drink to Fred’s death.
That’s what he told himself.
His mother thought that he was trying to get rid of the pain of losing his best friend.
George hated to admit it, but she was right.
There was a knock on the bedroom door. George ignored it until her heard Ginny’s voice. He groaned, getting up to see what she wanted.
He opened the door to see a white Ginny staring at him. “Ginny, what’s wrong?” George slurred. Ginny looked as if she would cry.
“It’s Brooke. She’s here.” Ginny gave a soft sob. George slid to the floor, eyes closing.
Brooke. Fred’s girlfriend. Of course. Leave it to George. He’d break the bad news to her.
“Did you-” George asked, eyes reopening.
Ginny shook her head. “I couldn’t. She doesn’t even know me. I thought that she’d deserve to see you and be told by you. She’s downstairs.”
George sighed heavily. “Well, what am I supposed to say?” He protested.
Ginny shook her head. “I don’t know, George, but maybe it’ll be good for you to recall Fred’s last moments.”
George flinched at Fred’s name. He glared at his sister who was looking at him with a pitiful expression. “I think that’s for me to decide.” He snapped. Ginny sighed, scrunching up her eyes. She missed her old brother.
Going down the stairs, as slow as he could, George resolved to tell Brooke only that Fred had died. He couldn’t talk about his twin’s death for longer than he had to. However, that was quickly forgotten as he saw Brooke sitting in the chair closest to the window.
Brooke was tan, very tan. Her dark brown, wavy hair was down to her elbow, and was hanging loose around her narrow face. Her sea blue eyes stood out against her tan skin like beacons in the night. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, and she was hugging her knees to her chest. She stood up, smiling brightly when she saw George walk down the stairs.
Brooke immediately realized that something was wrong. George’s eyes were bagged heavily. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. And he was obviously drunk. Brooke crossed her arms, frowning at her friend.
“George.” She said softly. “Is Fred around? I asked your sister, but she said that you’d explain. She looked upset. Are you okay?” George held a hand up, and Brooke fell silent.
“Brooke,” George said softly. “Fred – he’s dead. He was killed in the last battle.”
For the first time since Fred’s death a month ago, George was able to cry. A huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders as he broke into tears.
Brooke also sobbed as George continued in between his sobs. “He died…telling a joke.” George laughed. What was wrong with him?! How could he be laughing? “He was talking…to Percy…” George half-laughed and half-cried. “He was murdered…while laughing.”
George knew that Fred would have wanted to die like that. He knew that Fred wouldn’t have it any other way. That didn’t matter to George, though. How could Fred have just left him?
Brooke’s thoughts weren’t much different. The man she’d loved, even planned to marry, had died. A flash of anger hit her. “When?” She asked tearfully.
“A month ago.” George sobbed.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?!” Brooke shrieked.
George still sobbed. “I’ve been drunk, Brooke! I can’t handle this myself, let alone tell you! Did you want me to Apparate to your house all drunk and tell you that Fred had died?! Was that what you wanted?!”
Brooke sighed heavily. “I just don’t get it, George.” She wiped her eyes off, done crying for the moment. “Look.” She pulled a ring off of her ring finger on her left hand and handed it to George.
George’s eyes widened. It was an engagement ring. “You and Fred?” He whispered. Brooke nodded sadly.
“We were going to be married secretly in a month’s time. August 7th. We would have told the rest of you a month or so later.” Brooke’s eyes swum with tears again, but she didn’t notice.
George sighed heavily. Fred had kept him in the dark for this long. He turned away from Brooke, tuning the rest of her explanation out. “I don’t care, Brooke.” He said sharply. “Leave me alone.”
Brooke gasped. “I can’t believe you!” She whispered angrily. “I loved him as much as you did!”
“Do.” George said calmly. “I still do.”
Brooke bit her lip. “And you’re still my best friend, George. I want to help you.”
“Help me?” George laughed. Brooke shivered. It sounded nothing like the old George. “No one can help me.” George went on. “My mum and dad couldn’t. Bill and Charlie couldn’t. Ron and Percy…” He snorted. “No way. The only one who’s come close at all is Ginny. And I was only cheered up for a day.” He rolled his eyes. “I love you, Brooke. Always will. But this is out of your hands. The only one who can help me is Fred.”
Brooke sighed. “I’ve had dreams of him. I thought that they were just dreams. But, now that I know he’s dead, I think otherwise. In most of them, he’s happy. Laughing, and telling me how much he loves me. But last night it was different. It was him crying and telling me to give you his love.”
“Brooke…” George’s voice broke.
“I’m not making this up!” Brooke snapped. Her voice also broke.
“I didn’t say you did…” George sounded deep in thought. He smiled, knowing what Fred would say. Deep in thought? You? No way.
He turned back to Brooke, crushing her in a massive hug. “I’ve changed my mind. Try and help me, and I’ll try and help you.” He muttered.
“Deal.” Brooke said, sounding weak and firm all at once.
George gave Brooke one last squeeze before letting her go.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Brooke was a runner. She always had been. Running just made her feel like all her troubles and worries were gone.
So naturally, she ran for hours after hearing about Fred’s death.
Six hours later, she collapsed in front of her home. She gagged, holding her stomach. She tried to puke, but nothing came out.
Her little sister was concerned. Mia ran to Brooke, hugging her tightly. “What in the name of Merlin were you thinking?” She demanded.
Brooke laughed without humor. “Fred’s dead. Gone.” Brooke laughed. “I need to run and run. I can’t think about this!” She attempted to stand, but she couldn’t.
Mia scowled at Brooke. “You need to rest.” She snapped. “You’re going to kill yourself. Is George okay?” Mia’s voice lowered. She’d always had a crush on George.
Brooke pausing, not wanting Mia to get nightmares of a drunken George hanging himself. She shuddered. “Yeah. He’s sad and all, but he’ll be fine.” She smiled.
Mia sighed, relieved. “That’s good. At least he’s not drunk, or-or planning to kill himself.” She smiled.
Brooke felt awful. “Okay, okay.” She bit her lip. “He was drinking for like a week, but he’s stopped now.” She smiled.
Mia smiled back. “That’s good. You okay now?”
Brooke laughed. “No. But I will be.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Ginny walked into George’s room without knocking. “Is Brooke doing okay?”
George smiled. “Yeah. She’ll survive. Just like me. We’re going to help each other out, you know.” He hugged Ginny who looked astounded.
“You’re in a good mood. You don’t have a crush on Brooke, do you?” She frowned.
George snorted. “Of course not!” He chuckled. “She was engaged to Fred. They were going to be secretly married in a month.”
Ginny gasped. “And they weren’t going to tell any of us?!” She protested.
George snorted. “So when are you and Harry getting married?” He asked sarcastically. Ginny rolled her eyes.
“I’m not even seventeen, George.” She stuck her tongue out at George, who raised his eyebrows. Ginny had never done that before. “If he still wants to marry me in a couple years, then we’ll get married then.” She smirked.
“Okay – hang on!” George frowned. “What do you mean still?”
Ginny rolled her eyes again. “He proposed to me – well not really.” She amended. “He just told me that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, but I told him that I wanted to wait a few years.”
“Good for you.” George snorted. “Better you than me. I’m never getting married.”
“Really?” Ginny looked puzzled. “I thought you were going to name your first son Fred.”
George frowned. “Where’d you hear that?”
“You talk about it every night at dinner.” Ginny said slowly. “You whisper it under your breath. I’m the only one who hears you, but I thought it was really sweet.”
George groaned. “Fred was my twin, Ginny. You’ll never know what it feels like to lose your other half. Your better half.”
Ginny sighed heavily. “Maybe I won’t.” She stood up. “But I’d be devastated if I lost you, Harry, Hermione, or Ron. Don’t think for a second that I don’t miss Fred too.” Her eyes blazed, and George couldn’t help but think of how Fred would be saying the same.
“I know, Gin. I’m sorry.” George said humbly. Ginny smiled.
“Whatever. Night, George.”
“Night, Gin.”
It was George’s first night without nightmares.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
As I said, this was written for Third Floor Corridor, which is a really fun site, kinda like an online Hogwarts. You make friends and such on there. The website is on my profile. If you join, be sure to say that Emma sent you.
Cheers.
Emma
This story was written for a fanfic competition on Third Floor Corridor. I’ll explain more about TFC later, but it’s a great site. If you decide to join, make sure you tell them that Emma sent you.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
She had always loved him. Even at those memorable times where they’d fought and fought, and she had denied her love for him, it was still there.
He was able to tell her everyday, about how much he loved her. She would roll her eyes, laugh it off, but in her heart, it meant the world to her.
He was the world to her.
And her world fell apart without him beside her.
It had all started with his twin brother.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
George Weasley sighed heavily. He felt like the sky had fallen and squashed him to pieces. No. He felt worse than that. He felt like he’d been burned alive, only to be brought back to life with the burns still burning.
So, all in all, he felt awful.
Fred was gone. Dead.
George hadn’t been able to cry at all.
Apparently, not being able to cry over your twin brother while needing to was an awful feeling. A really awful feeling.
George hadn’t laughed since Fred’s death. He hadn’t spoken Fred’s name since his death. George had long since given up hope that if he refused to admit that Fred was dead, that Fred would come back as merry as before and cure the Weasley family with his presence. So George had resolved to sit in his room, firewhiskey in hand, and drink to Fred’s death.
That’s what he told himself.
His mother thought that he was trying to get rid of the pain of losing his best friend.
George hated to admit it, but she was right.
There was a knock on the bedroom door. George ignored it until her heard Ginny’s voice. He groaned, getting up to see what she wanted.
He opened the door to see a white Ginny staring at him. “Ginny, what’s wrong?” George slurred. Ginny looked as if she would cry.
“It’s Brooke. She’s here.” Ginny gave a soft sob. George slid to the floor, eyes closing.
Brooke. Fred’s girlfriend. Of course. Leave it to George. He’d break the bad news to her.
“Did you-” George asked, eyes reopening.
Ginny shook her head. “I couldn’t. She doesn’t even know me. I thought that she’d deserve to see you and be told by you. She’s downstairs.”
George sighed heavily. “Well, what am I supposed to say?” He protested.
Ginny shook her head. “I don’t know, George, but maybe it’ll be good for you to recall Fred’s last moments.”
George flinched at Fred’s name. He glared at his sister who was looking at him with a pitiful expression. “I think that’s for me to decide.” He snapped. Ginny sighed, scrunching up her eyes. She missed her old brother.
Going down the stairs, as slow as he could, George resolved to tell Brooke only that Fred had died. He couldn’t talk about his twin’s death for longer than he had to. However, that was quickly forgotten as he saw Brooke sitting in the chair closest to the window.
Brooke was tan, very tan. Her dark brown, wavy hair was down to her elbow, and was hanging loose around her narrow face. Her sea blue eyes stood out against her tan skin like beacons in the night. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, and she was hugging her knees to her chest. She stood up, smiling brightly when she saw George walk down the stairs.
Brooke immediately realized that something was wrong. George’s eyes were bagged heavily. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. And he was obviously drunk. Brooke crossed her arms, frowning at her friend.
“George.” She said softly. “Is Fred around? I asked your sister, but she said that you’d explain. She looked upset. Are you okay?” George held a hand up, and Brooke fell silent.
“Brooke,” George said softly. “Fred – he’s dead. He was killed in the last battle.”
For the first time since Fred’s death a month ago, George was able to cry. A huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders as he broke into tears.
Brooke also sobbed as George continued in between his sobs. “He died…telling a joke.” George laughed. What was wrong with him?! How could he be laughing? “He was talking…to Percy…” George half-laughed and half-cried. “He was murdered…while laughing.”
George knew that Fred would have wanted to die like that. He knew that Fred wouldn’t have it any other way. That didn’t matter to George, though. How could Fred have just left him?
Brooke’s thoughts weren’t much different. The man she’d loved, even planned to marry, had died. A flash of anger hit her. “When?” She asked tearfully.
“A month ago.” George sobbed.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?!” Brooke shrieked.
George still sobbed. “I’ve been drunk, Brooke! I can’t handle this myself, let alone tell you! Did you want me to Apparate to your house all drunk and tell you that Fred had died?! Was that what you wanted?!”
Brooke sighed heavily. “I just don’t get it, George.” She wiped her eyes off, done crying for the moment. “Look.” She pulled a ring off of her ring finger on her left hand and handed it to George.
George’s eyes widened. It was an engagement ring. “You and Fred?” He whispered. Brooke nodded sadly.
“We were going to be married secretly in a month’s time. August 7th. We would have told the rest of you a month or so later.” Brooke’s eyes swum with tears again, but she didn’t notice.
George sighed heavily. Fred had kept him in the dark for this long. He turned away from Brooke, tuning the rest of her explanation out. “I don’t care, Brooke.” He said sharply. “Leave me alone.”
Brooke gasped. “I can’t believe you!” She whispered angrily. “I loved him as much as you did!”
“Do.” George said calmly. “I still do.”
Brooke bit her lip. “And you’re still my best friend, George. I want to help you.”
“Help me?” George laughed. Brooke shivered. It sounded nothing like the old George. “No one can help me.” George went on. “My mum and dad couldn’t. Bill and Charlie couldn’t. Ron and Percy…” He snorted. “No way. The only one who’s come close at all is Ginny. And I was only cheered up for a day.” He rolled his eyes. “I love you, Brooke. Always will. But this is out of your hands. The only one who can help me is Fred.”
Brooke sighed. “I’ve had dreams of him. I thought that they were just dreams. But, now that I know he’s dead, I think otherwise. In most of them, he’s happy. Laughing, and telling me how much he loves me. But last night it was different. It was him crying and telling me to give you his love.”
“Brooke…” George’s voice broke.
“I’m not making this up!” Brooke snapped. Her voice also broke.
“I didn’t say you did…” George sounded deep in thought. He smiled, knowing what Fred would say. Deep in thought? You? No way.
He turned back to Brooke, crushing her in a massive hug. “I’ve changed my mind. Try and help me, and I’ll try and help you.” He muttered.
“Deal.” Brooke said, sounding weak and firm all at once.
George gave Brooke one last squeeze before letting her go.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Brooke was a runner. She always had been. Running just made her feel like all her troubles and worries were gone.
So naturally, she ran for hours after hearing about Fred’s death.
Six hours later, she collapsed in front of her home. She gagged, holding her stomach. She tried to puke, but nothing came out.
Her little sister was concerned. Mia ran to Brooke, hugging her tightly. “What in the name of Merlin were you thinking?” She demanded.
Brooke laughed without humor. “Fred’s dead. Gone.” Brooke laughed. “I need to run and run. I can’t think about this!” She attempted to stand, but she couldn’t.
Mia scowled at Brooke. “You need to rest.” She snapped. “You’re going to kill yourself. Is George okay?” Mia’s voice lowered. She’d always had a crush on George.
Brooke pausing, not wanting Mia to get nightmares of a drunken George hanging himself. She shuddered. “Yeah. He’s sad and all, but he’ll be fine.” She smiled.
Mia sighed, relieved. “That’s good. At least he’s not drunk, or-or planning to kill himself.” She smiled.
Brooke felt awful. “Okay, okay.” She bit her lip. “He was drinking for like a week, but he’s stopped now.” She smiled.
Mia smiled back. “That’s good. You okay now?”
Brooke laughed. “No. But I will be.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Ginny walked into George’s room without knocking. “Is Brooke doing okay?”
George smiled. “Yeah. She’ll survive. Just like me. We’re going to help each other out, you know.” He hugged Ginny who looked astounded.
“You’re in a good mood. You don’t have a crush on Brooke, do you?” She frowned.
George snorted. “Of course not!” He chuckled. “She was engaged to Fred. They were going to be secretly married in a month.”
Ginny gasped. “And they weren’t going to tell any of us?!” She protested.
George snorted. “So when are you and Harry getting married?” He asked sarcastically. Ginny rolled her eyes.
“I’m not even seventeen, George.” She stuck her tongue out at George, who raised his eyebrows. Ginny had never done that before. “If he still wants to marry me in a couple years, then we’ll get married then.” She smirked.
“Okay – hang on!” George frowned. “What do you mean still?”
Ginny rolled her eyes again. “He proposed to me – well not really.” She amended. “He just told me that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, but I told him that I wanted to wait a few years.”
“Good for you.” George snorted. “Better you than me. I’m never getting married.”
“Really?” Ginny looked puzzled. “I thought you were going to name your first son Fred.”
George frowned. “Where’d you hear that?”
“You talk about it every night at dinner.” Ginny said slowly. “You whisper it under your breath. I’m the only one who hears you, but I thought it was really sweet.”
George groaned. “Fred was my twin, Ginny. You’ll never know what it feels like to lose your other half. Your better half.”
Ginny sighed heavily. “Maybe I won’t.” She stood up. “But I’d be devastated if I lost you, Harry, Hermione, or Ron. Don’t think for a second that I don’t miss Fred too.” Her eyes blazed, and George couldn’t help but think of how Fred would be saying the same.
“I know, Gin. I’m sorry.” George said humbly. Ginny smiled.
“Whatever. Night, George.”
“Night, Gin.”
It was George’s first night without nightmares.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
As I said, this was written for Third Floor Corridor, which is a really fun site, kinda like an online Hogwarts. You make friends and such on there. The website is on my profile. If you join, be sure to say that Emma sent you.
Cheers.
Emma
