two to one, one to zero
I.
Here is what those close to the Weasley Twins see when they look at them.
Fred is the brash one (when compared to George), meaner, and crueler. The one who calls the shots, who leads where George follows. Quick to anger and quicker to move on. The one who's more likely to crack a joke and start a prank. A bit flighty, a daredevil with no care for the rules.
George is the thoughtful one (when compared to Fred), kinder, and gentler. The one who plays a supporting role for the main character that is his twin brother. His anger is hard to stoke, his forgiveness harder to earn. The one who reigns in his brother's distasteful jokes and dangerous pranks. A steadier presence than Fred's, careful to decide which rules can and cannot be broken.
There is, after all, a reason why they are called Fred and George, rather than George and Fred.
Here is what they don’t see.
Fred’s bluntness that doesn’t hide what he thinks, the one who quickly takes action and can make snap decisions with ease. He’s the one who gets the ball rolling, and comes up with outlandish ideas that shouldn’t be possible to achieve. The torch that doesn’t just guide others but helps them set fire to their own light, even at the expense of himself.
George is all careful words and consideration, calculating, maybe even manipulative. He weighs and weighs the different choices and decisions available, always considering the pros and cons. He’s the one who makes everything possible, delves in one too many books that aren’t even part of their studies for the sake of making all those outlandish ideas come true. The one who makes sure that the ball continues to roll with minimal bumps in the road. George makes sure that the fire always burns in the torch, and that it never goes out no matter how bright it burns.
(Because if that fire ever burned out, George would inevitably lose his way. His world blanketed in darkness that no light can ever pierce through.)
II.
At the tender age of twenty, Fred dies.
Everyone loses something with his death.
Their parents lost a son. Bill, Charlie, and Percy lost a mischievous but bright younger brother. Ron, Ginny, and Harry lost a blunt but well-meaning older brother. Lee lost a best mate. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie lost a friend. Oliver lost a beater. Headmistress McGonagall lost a favored lion. Professor Flitwick lost a bright pupil. The list goes on and on.
George, well. George lost a brother, a twin, a best mate, a friend, and half of his life, half of his heart, with the death of Fred.
Half of his mind too.
Fred and George becomes Just George, and no one talks about the Weasley Twins anymore.
III.
George thinks it’s funny when people say that they understand what he lost, because they really don’t.
It claws at him, can’t even bear to look at the mirror because he’ll just look and look, waiting for a similar (not identical, not now) face to pop in with a wide grin and a gleam in their eyes, but no matter how long he stands there, the person he’s waiting for will never come.
Everything looks bleaker, his once vivid world is now made out of hues of gray. There’s no longer a two-man act, no duet, and no partner-in-crime.
All of his life, they’ve been together, they were born together. It’s much too cruel a fate to not die together.
IV.
George is the quiet one, always has been, and he takes it up a notch after the battle.
He knows it reminds the older members of the family of his childhood, because before Percy was the one who always got singled out, it’s George who took that role.
They had a very different dynamic back then.
Bill wasn’t always the cool brother that Ron and Ginny remembered. On the contrary, when Bill was a child he had quite the temper, jealousy, and harshness that only mellowed as he grew older. George has forgotten the number of brawls that Bill and Charlie had, as well as the number of stubborn tears and reluctant hugs that the two shared. The difficult brother, once upon a time.
Charlie was bookish back then. All too eager to read about the various creatures that roamed the wizarding world even when he was young, before his attention became captured by his one and only love, dragons. He was the one who entertained his younger brothers with a smile on his face, would playfully wrestle with them, and would take them out on adventures outside of their home. He was the widely agreed upon cool older brother back then (between Percy and him ).
Percy, well, Percy and him got along in the way all older siblings and younger siblings close in age did when they were young, reluctantly. That did nothing to hide how much Percy actually cared for his younger brother. He always made sure that he was out of the way when Bill and Charlie were having one of their brawls, always kept an eye on him whenever they were out and about. He’d also mind their older brothers’ emotions, would be all too willing to volunteer himself for the chore that their mum would give either Bill or Charlie despite being clearly in a mood. The caring brother, before he cared too much.
He didn’t change too much from how he once was. He’s always been bright. Bright grin, bright eyes. Attention-seeking because he’s the fourth sibling in a brood of seven, he’s not the talented and confident firstborn, or the charming and adventurous secondborn, not even the hardworking and eager-to-please thirdborn. He also wasn’t the youngest that needed the attention or the second youngest that just learned how to walk. He was, quite literally, the middle child.
So, he made sure to stand out, even if it was in the worst way possible. The mischievous brother or simply, the prankster.
In contrast, George preferred not to have any attention directed at him. Something that still holds a bit of truth at present.
All of his siblings were loud to varying degrees, and rather than be a part of it, he simply kept quiet. Even then, he’s long accepted the fact that he won’t be outstanding, won’t be memorable, and that suited him just fine. He’d rather spend time with his grandmother and grandfather than be a part of that rabble anyway.
Then, Cedrella Weasley née Black and Septimus Weasley died.
George became quieter, easier to lose track of, a ghost in their own home.
If there’s one thing that Ron and Ginny, Harry and Hermoine, hell, Lee, Angelica, Alicia, Katie, even Oliver, would be surprised to know during their childhood, it would undoubtedly be the fact that he loathed him and George was utterly indifferent towards him.
After all, it’s infinitely harder to stand out with a doppelganger existing right beside you, because despite their vast difference in temperament, even then, they were unceremoniously lumped together. A two in one deal.
But despite how much he loathed George, he was kind.
He didn’t hesitate to involve him in his adventures, didn’t hesitate to reach out to the cold, indifferent brother among them. He took venomous insults (as venomous as a child can be, which is very) and endured it all. Even learned to fire back his own set of insults.
(The first time George was insulted back with twice as much venom, a startled laugh escaped his lips. A rare sound to hear back then and it made him very smug. It was also the first time that George didn’t laugh at the expense of his siblings, but at his own.)
When George was as sharp as icicles and as cold as one too, further enhanced by the loss of their beloved grandparents, it was him who didn’t hesitate to endure his bites (metaphorically and literally). He forced him to warm up, to care about the rest of their family, to care about him because it became all too clear that if they didn’t have each other’s back, no one will.
There’s no one else who listens to his many, many ideas. All brilliant, mad, and supposedly impossible to achieve. No one else looks past his joking and pranking nature and sees that he was quite lonely underneath. Because no matter how indifferent George tried to be, he could acknowledge the marvelous mind that he possessed. He observed the cries for attention and saw what he wanted, what he needed, someone that understood, someone that wouldn’t mind who he truly was.
George was that to him, as he was to George.
And no one can ever replace him, or play such a similar role in his life.
V.
The Blacks are named after the celestial bodies or plants, but most have been named from the former category. It was somehow another way for them to assert their standing in society.
The celestial bodies had myths, from Orion to Andromeda, Cassiopeia to Cygnus. Then, there are the constellations of the zodiacs, from Leo to Taurus, Capricorn to Cancer, etc., but to George, one stood above all others, Gemini.
Gemini had two notable stars named Castor and Pollux, to others Castor and Polydeuces, famous twins from Greek mythology.
Their story was a popular one, the one that involved Castor’s death. There were many variations, but the ending was always the same. When Castor stood in front of the doors of death, Polydeuces offered half of his life to save his beloved twin brother. Together, as they always were, they spent alternating days among the heavens and beneath the earth.
What kind of brother would George be— what kind of twin would he be, if he does not do the same?
And so, he plans.
VI.
There were many things that needed to be addressed in George’s plan.
First, was family (and friends).
Right after the battle, his parents and older brothers refrained from going near him, from consoling him. Partly out of their own grief, and partly out of memories of two deaths that struck George a bit close to his heart when he was younger, because, Merlin, he was a vicious little brat.
Despite the shift in his attitude from when he was a child, they expect him to act worse now. He could hardly blame them, while George may have been reigning him in from more dangerous pranks and more blunt and cutting words, he reigned George in just as much.
Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermoine were understandably a bit confused and a bit angry about it all. It didn’t help that no one bothered explaining to them why exactly they were leaving George alone.
It became a routine, of sorts, where one of them would visit him at least once a day. George reminded himself to at least be cordial with them and he did the same to thei— his friends.
(He’s George now, just George.)
Still, it eventually became obvious to them that who he is at the moment, wasn’t the George they once knew.
He wasn’t quite sure who was the first one to notice, though, George would bet that it was one of the younger ones who figured it out much earlier. Their— His friends were still deep in their grief and, well, they’ve always expected the best from him. Even now he knows how to use his words and phrases. A positive enough comment can turn into the opposite quite easily, an insulting statement can be effortlessly hidden with the use of quirked-up lips and sparkling (dead) eyes.
If any of them knew what he was planning on doing, they’d most likely send him to St. Mungo’s or Azkaban. His friends and younger siblings, Harry and Hermione included, will no doubt throw a fit about it. They wouldn’t understand because no one really bothered to explain to them, or maybe someone already did but they saw no reason to believe them, either way, they would always think that George Fabian Weasley, prankster extraordinaire, older brother (by bond and by blood), is undeserving of such fate.
Entirely inaccurate, especially with what he’s planning.
He’s always taken after his dear Grandmother Cedrella more than anyone else in the family, more Black than Weasley or Prewett or Macmillan. It just meant that he’s all the more susceptible to the madness that ran rampant in that particular bloodline in his parents’ and older brothers’ eyes.
George can’t blame them, it was true afterall.
It only meant that George needed to be careful with what he’s reading when some of the younger ones comes to visit. They were a nosy bunch, but a simple and effective charm that changed the front cover of whatever book he’s reading was enough to not make them prod further than asking if he was enjoying what he was reading.
He thinks that as long as he continues as he is, there would be no interference from the older members of their family.
Second, he’s not immortal.
George isn’t planning on killing himself just to revive him, no. It would be the height of idiocy if he did, because why would he let him endure the suffering he went through?
It would be a tricky sort of magic ritual he’s planning on doing, and he can’t even involve any other sacrifices because he doesn’t want to taint his soul. This means that George would need to make do with creating a ritual that was tricky and difficult and used good, pure ingredients.
He deserved nothing less.
This is why rather than a simple revive, it would be reincarnation. George would tie their souls together, they’d either be together alive or together dead, which suited him just fine.
Third, the Shop.
It was his baby more than George’s and he trusts that Lee would not lead it astray. They were best mates for a reason.
That was that.
And so, he continues with his plot.
VII.
Death doesn’t scare George, it’s living he feared.
Thus, the moment he’s sure that the ritual was as perfect as it could be, he doesn’t hesitate to make the preparations for it.
It works, and George Fabian Weasley stares at Death straight in the eye.
“I’ve come to bargain.”