Pull me Out
“Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words, find hope in the hopeless, pull me out of the trainwreck… Unburn the ashes, unchain the reactions, I’m not ready to die, not yet, pull me out of the trainwreck… Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out…”
It had all happened so fast, too fast to even assimilate all the chaos that had broken out at the last stand at Hogwarts against the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, not leaving even a second to process everything that had led to the final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort, which ultimately led to the defeat of the Dark Lord once and for all, too much screams and panic filled the halls still ringing through his remaining ear, the intoxicating smell of smoke and fire filling his nostrils, the sight of so many lifeless bodies strewn across the entire perimeter of the school reminding him of the very real cost of the war, one in particular sticking out in his mind’s eye very much painfully, reminding him of the momentarily displaced yet utterly heart-wrenching pain that gnawed at his insides: that of his other half, his best friend, his mirror, his twin, Fred.
George had barely even begun to process that in the aftermath from the first attack on the school, his brother had been caught right in the crossfire, which resulted in his death. He couldn’t rid himself of the sight that rocked him to his very core, almost bringing him to his knees, one that made his entire world stop spinning, bringing the very reality of the moment to a standstill; that of his brother, lifeless on a stretcher in the Great Hall as the rest of his family cried and mourned the loss of Fred as he looked all around for Ron, holding him close, allowing him a small respite of relief that Ron was alive, but was brought back to the painful reality as Ron fell to his knees and cried over Fred’s body while Molly carded her fingers through her son’s hair solemnly.
As if the loss of his brother weren’t enough, when Voldemort had marched into Hogwarts with the Death Eaters by his side and Hagrid carrying a seemingly lifeless Harry in his arms, his world stopped spinning once again. His one hope that this war would be over seemed like it was slipping more through his fingers. Until Harry had come to and engaged Voldemort in a last battle, a small moment of hope and excitement flowing through his veins until he craned his head to the side to say it to Fred, the ugly realization that Fred was dead seeming much more real as the seconds passed, his earlier emotions disappearing almost instantly as he didn’t see Fred looking back before he retreated back deeper into the castle with his family to help take down the last of the Death Eaters.
As the dust settled and the fighting had stopped, news that the Dark Lord had finally been defeated rang through the halls as everybody had stopped dead in their tracks and collectively took a breath of relief, students of all blood statuses had huddled into support groups, providing emotional support for one another, taking in all the losses left behind, all houses joining together in solidarity as they walked outside to the entrance of the castle, wands at the ready as they lifted them up to the sky, lighting them up in remembrance of those who perished needlessly, tears falling from most of their faces, seeing how the skies cleared as a small opening shone a bright ray of light down upon them as if the doorway to the afterlife had opened ready to receive all those lost to the War.
George had scurried away from the Great Hall over to the main entrance, seeing from a distance how the students lifted their wands as he closed his eyes, letting some hot tears stain his face as he held onto a pillar to hold himself up to prevent buckling to the ground, feeling his body shudder with sobs, allowing him this one moment to start to mourn the loss of his brother, Fred, a loss he never thought he would have to deal with until down the road when they actually old and gray without a spell accelerating the process.
The war was over, but the grieving process had only just begun…
“Laying in the silence, waiting for the sirens, signs, any signs I’m alive still… I don’t wanna lose it, I’m not getting through this, hey, should I pray, should I pray?”
{6 months later}
The Wizarding World had been trying to adjust to a new normal after the events of the Second Wizarding War. The remaining Death Eaters had been sentenced for their crimes against the Wizarding and non-Wizarding worlds and their inhabitants, along with some members of the Ministry (especially a pink-clothes wearing sickeningly twisted woman who isn’t worth mentioning by name) to life imprisonment in the depths of Azkaban and to the mercy of the Dementors.
Harry had gone straight into the Ministry and had begun his training as an Auror, along with Ron, revolutionizing the Department, while Hermione had completed her 7th year at Hogwarts with top marks, following her best friend and boyfriend’s steps into the Ministry of Magic, becoming the Minister of Magic. Their shared experiences would further unite them into a lifelong friendship, appreciating every moment that life would present to them.
Mcgonagall had been appointed the new Headmistress of Hogwarts as she set to rebuild the school with the staff, students and parents’ help, having reserved a special room in order to commemorate all those who gave their lives protecting and defending Hogwarts on that fateful night. She would visit the room in her nightly rounds and look at the faces of the departed solemnly, her gaze settling on the face of a certain red-haired boy with a perpetual mischievous smirk on his lips set in a separate room as she took in a short breath and gave a small rueful chuckle, her eyes slightly glazing over with unshed tears. “Oh, Mr. Weasley… You and your brother may have always found a way to make my job just a bit more challenging, but those were also some of the best moments I got to spend in all my years with the school” she pulled out one of the twins’ inventions brought from their shop courtesy of Ginny {it was a Headless Hat} as she looked at it fondly and laid it down on a small stand right beneath his picture. “You are still the talk of the school, you know… you and your brother… Good night, Frederick” she said in her prim yet firm voice as she pulls out a small bag of Weasley’s Dragon Roasted Nuts and begins eating them and walks away back to her chambers, sealing the room shut again.
The rest of the Weasley family had gone through their own grieving process in the last 6 months since the end of the Battle of Hogwarts. Molly had thrown herself into keeping busy, along with Arthur, since most of her children were now out of the Burrow, with the exception of the first 2 months when almost all the Weasley offsprings were crammed in the house to help each other through the loss of their brother, usually consoling Molly whenever she would call out for Fred only to receive radio silence and followed her excusing herself to the kitchen and quietly sobbing into her hands until her husband or Bill, Percy or Ginny found her and hugged her tight. Percy had been extremely withdrawn, racked with guilt for estranging himself from the family only to be brought back with them through the loss of one of their own. Bill had been an anchor for his siblings, mainly Ginny and Ron throughout the process whenever they would get hit with a particularly rough wave of sadness for their brother, as he leaned on Fleur whenever they would retire to their private chamber where he could release his own grief to her.
But of all the Weasley members, undoubtedly George had been the center of concern for the rest. He had retreated into his room and had not gone out ever since arriving back at the Burrow, covering all the mirrors in the house, not able to look at his own reflection, always seeing Fred instead of himself.
Molly had tried reaching through to him as best she could, softly cajoling him to join the rest of the family, but to no avail as she sighed quietly leaning her head on the bedroom door closing her eyes as some tears fell unbidden, unaware that George was mirroring her form through the other side of the door. He could hear every word falling from her lips; and he tried, by Godric, he tried to pick himself up and join his siblings and parents, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the bubble of safety that he had inserted himself into as a way to shield himself from facing the pain and reality that he had been reluctant to accept: Fred was dead and there was nothing that anyone could do to change it. His nightmares and flashbacks served him as rather painful reminders of this sad fact, but some nights, they would take the back burner and the happier dreams and memories where Fred was still alive would accompany George even if it lasted for a few fleeting minutes.
His siblings gave him as much time and space as he needed but would still check on him daily and sometimes every hour, rotating between themselves outside of his door, talking to him even if he wouldn’t answer back most of the time.
Until one day, Bill had gotten his siblings out of the Burrow and Apparated away to some remote part of England, Arthur had been called into the Ministry, which left Molly alone knitting in her chair deep in thought as she forgot that she had gotten the dishes to wash themselves and saw the bubbles reaching out of the dining room as she called out quite loudly without thinking. “Fred, come help-” her words died down in her throat as her eyes burned with tears dying to fall as she wordlessly stopped the dishes and cried quietly, her head laying on the counter, unaware that there was a presence in the kitchen with her when she felt two arms slowly pull her into a solid chest. “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother?” George’s hushed voice and attempt to bring some sort of lightheartedness broke her trance as she turned around and looked up into his eyes, seeing the same burning tears reflected in his own. She gingerly cupped his face, taking in George’s features. The lack of sleep had resulted in severe dark circles and bags under his eyes, he was much paler and colder to the touch, his eyes were considerably dimmer, although there was a faint glimmer of mischief that appeared when he uttered those words as she tearfully gave him a smile and pulled him down, carding her fingers through his longer hair and gently swayed him in her arms, feeling his shoulders slump as he hid his face into her neck, closing his eyes and allowed himself to be vulnerable as he began crying quietly in her arms, gripping onto her as if she were his lifeline as she brought them both to the floor and kept rocking her boy in his arms, feeling her heart shatter at the sound of his cries which now turned into full blown sobs.
“Mum, I-I miss him” “I know, dearie, I know” those were the only words either of them spoke to each other as Molly kept stroking his hair and rubbed his back while he cried, a scene that the rest of the siblings stumbled onto after their trip through England as they gently huddled around Molly and George, enveloping them in a warm yet much needed hug, their hearts broken as they heard George weep and sob for Fred, but not leaving him, not when he needed them the most.
After that day, George stopped staying in his room so much and joined the family whenever he could for meals or just to not be alone with his thoughts. Thankfully no one mentioned the tentative future of the joke shop, although it hung like a dark black cloak on his mind, but was grateful that no one pushed him for an answer. He was grateful for his family, he adored them and would gladly and proudly wear his name, but as much as he loved them and as much as they truly wanted to understand him, there was nothing they could do about the fact that the one person who truly understood George better than anyone was no longer with them.
“You can say what you like, don't say I wouldn't die for you, I’m down on my knees and I need you to be my God, be my help, be a savior who can..”
{2 years later}
George had gotten into a sort of routine, he had moved out of the Burrow, moved into the apartment right above the joke shop, had decided to cut his hair again but dyed it a dark brown and was somewhat able to tolerate seeing his reflection in a mirror without seeing Fred looking right back at him and decided to reopen the shop, but he knew that it would be extremely difficult running it without his preferred partner, until Ron had offered to help him run it to keep the shop open and Fred’s legacy alive. His eyes expressed his eternal gratitude to Ron as he pulled him into a bone crushing hug and thanked him as Ron returned the hug and kept good on his word, helping George run the shop.
Most days, after the shift was done and Ron would help him close before retiring for the night, George would stay up late doing inventory for the shop, avoiding to have to go to sleep, the fear that the nightmares would get a grip on him again, like they had every time the anniversary of Fred’s death was approaching. He could still remember that first year anniversary, it had crept up to him, taking the wind out of his sail, leaving him to feel lost and floundering, bringing him back to that dreaded day he didn’t like to relive as he felt his eyes drooping closed, which he took as a sign to get some sleep as he walked up to the apartment and took his work robes off, taking a shower as he stood under the running water, leaning his head on the cool tile to chase away the heaviness he felt. He dressed in some dark purple plaid pajama pants and a gray thin shirt as he laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling before letting his eyes slowly droop closed, hoping for a dreamless slumber…
He could hear the students screaming loudly, the stench of death wafting through the halls, the smoke and dust of the rubble would find a way to his nose as he made his way through the maze of students until he reached the Great Hall trying to find his family when he located a familiar red mop of hair lying still on a stretcher amidst the other lifeless bodies of both students and professors as his feet guided him nearer and nearer before stopping in front of the stretcher as the very air from his lungs seemed to have evaporated at the sight he beheld: his beloved twin, his mirror, his perfect counterpart, his best friend in the entire world, was dead. And in that very moment, all noise began to get blocked out as the only thing he could focus on was on Fred’s lifeless body, his unshed tears blurring his vision as he felt himself fall to his knees, seeing an ever so faint ghost of a smile fixed on Fred’s lips, the deathly paleness that made his freckles stand out even more on his face when he looked around and could see everyone staring at him, wondering what his next step was, the prying eyes of the students and the mournful looks of his family making his heart start to race, his breathing became erratic, his hands began shaking and felt as if he were about to fall into a dark abyss from where no one could pull him out of, letting out a blood-curdling scream…
He shot up in bed screaming out of the nightmare, his hair was matted to his forehead from the sweat, his heart hammering against his chest for a stable breath, his eyes were gazing all around the room trying to focus on something as he raked his hands through his hair, his hands still trembling slightly as he got up and shakily made his way to the windowsill and sat down, looking out the window straight up into the sky, it was a smiley moon tonight as he and Fred would always refer to it when they were kids. What was rather peculiar is that there was only one star next to it, a rather bright star in an otherwise cloudless and starless dark night sky. He chuckled quietly as he softly traced the shape of the moon and the star against the window. “Oi, you just had to have the moon all for yourself, eh, Freddie? She’s a beauty tonight” He said softly, feeling as if through some way, Fred was actually there with him, helping him through the nightmare. “Um, the shop has been an absolute raging success, demand has been growing like you wouldn’t believe, and every day, there’s new inventions flying off the shelves, don’t think we can actually keep up with so much demand, but we’re pulling through, Ron and I… I miss you, mate, more than I thought I ever would… Some days, it’s just hard to even get out of the bed, I still expect you to just Apparate in the middle of a shift and wreak a little havoc… But I guess that’s what you’re doing up there, I hope, wreaking havoc… Don’t have too much fun without me, though” he chuckled at that last sentence as he softly shook his head, wiping a stray tear from his face. “Mcgonagall drops in every now and then, she buys some nuts, she fancies the taste, I reckon, and she buys some of the earlier inventions as “alternative disciplinary methods” like the dung bombs and such… Mum still calls out for you, not as much like in the beginning, but we’ve grown accustomed to it and we take it as if you were actually there with us… Bill and the rest talk to you as well, almost daily, I think… There’s times where I find myself wondering if you can actually hear anything I say, but I find it keeps me sane… It’s been a very tough journey without you by my side, Freddie, I wonder if the choices I keep making when it comes to the shop would have been the same ones you would’ve made as well, you always were more of the leader than I am… No words can explain how much I actually miss you, because I don’t think there’s ever going to be a proper set of words to describe the depth of me missing you, but hopefully, one day, not anytime soon, please, you better be the one waiting for me at King’s Cross Station whenever I finally get over to the other side and with a big box of fireworks and smuggled Firewhiskey, I will expect no less” he said to the moon and the star through the window with a soft smile as the moonlight illuminated his room. “I’ll see you again, Fred, I promise” his voice tapered out to a whisper as he got off the windowsill and back to his bed falling asleep, memories of quidditch, candies and fireworks inundating his dreams for the remainder of the night.
“Loving and fighting, accusing, denying, I can’t imagine a world with you gone… The joy and the chaos, the demons we’re made of, I’d be so lost if you left me alone… I pull you in to feel your heart beat, can you hear me screaming “Please don’t leave me”… Hold on, I still want you… Come back, I still need you…”
The following day, George didn’t open the shop, instead he left a crown of lilies hanging at the door before Apparating to the Burrow, walking over to the door and knocked on it, not waiting too long when Molly opened the door and pulled him in, wrapping him in a warm hug. Today was Fred’s 2-year anniversary, a date that would never get any easier to live through. The entire family was there, along with Harry and Hermione of course, who were practically family at this point. George made his way along the house greeting the rest of the family before they all made the trek to the plot where Fred had been properly buried. They all stood there in a sort of quiet serenity, each member walking to the headstone and spoke whatever words they needed to, some taking longer than others.
When it came to George, he was the last one, which the rest of the family made a point to give him some space and privacy so he could speak what he needed to as they retreated over to the garden. George sat down across the headstone and looked at the etching on it as he traced his fingers over it, letting his eyes close as his forehead made contact with the cool edge of the headstone, a stray tear staining the rock as he stayed quiet for what seemed an eternity, the emotions in him overwhelming the need for him to speak.
“I still see you sometimes, Freddie… not as often, but every once in a while, I see you through the mirror and it brings a kind of smile to my face… I hope you truly do find peace… Don’t create too much mischief up there or they may just kick you out and send you back here… Which I wouldn’t exactly complain about, but, a man can dream, right?” he pulls out a small flask of Firewhiskey and takes a sip for the both of them before standing up and with one last look at the headstone, he taps it gently “I solemnly swear…” he started but couldn’t bring himself to finish it as he turned around and began walking towards the rest of the family when he looked up to the sky and saw a bright flash of white light hurtling straight to Fred’s headstone as he followed it back with the rest of the family as they watched in curiosity what the ball of light was actually doing as it moved straight above the outline of the plot and seemingly got even brighter. Everyone had their wands close by, but George made no sign to draw them as the ball of light began to levitate as it seemed like it was doing some sort of spell as it grew bigger when the same ray of light that had appeared that day at Hogwarts appeared again, only this time, there was a bigger ball of light coming down from the sky towards the body, only this ball of light was no ordinary one, for it took the shape of a magpie, fluttering its wings furiously as it landed directly on the headstone when both balls of light merged, making the Weasleys shield their eyes from the intense brightness before it dimmed enough where George could look back up as he vaguely saw a figure laying on the ground, a figure with a signature red mop of hair on their head as he saw Fred’s wand dart out of his breast pocket and go straight to the immobile figure on the ground, his heart beating a million miles an hour as the rest of the family looked on in wonder yet with trepidation as George slowly approached the spot and heard the figure grunt and groan softly before George stopped halfway seeing the figure slowly sit up rubbing their head, taking in the surroundings before looking back and for the third time, George’s world stop spinning on its axis as he looked at the eyes he thought he would never get a chance to look at again until he passed, the same eyes that held so many swirling emotions in them, confusion, weariness, but above all, mischief as he got broken out of the stupor seeing him stretch his lips in that damned devil-may-care trademark smirk that could only belong to one person in the entire universe.
“F-Fred?” he whispered out so quietly, he didn’t even believe he had actually uttered the word out, but was quickly proven wrong when it was returned, and by Godric, did it fill his heart with joy.
“…that I am up to no good” Fred completed the sentence, confirming it was truly him as he slowly got up and assessed George with a small smirk. "I like the haircut, but why did ya have to dye it?! It suits you marvelously, but you know I’m going to make sure you grow it out and dye it again” Fred spoke as if no time had ever passed while George took this as a sign to walk across and engulfed his twin in a soul rattling embrace as if personal space didn’t even exist between them as he closed his eyes tightly, truly terrified to open them in fear that once he did, he would wake up back in the apartment at the joke shop and this would be reduced to nothing else but a wishful thinking dream.
His fears were quite quickly silenced when he felt two familiar arms wrap around his shoulders and gently clapped his back before hearing Fred take a deep shaky breath bringing him even closer. “If I didn’t know any better, I might actually think you missed having me around, Georgie” Fred joked lightheartedly but not once letting go of George, feeling his brother’s body shake in his embrace, both locked in a hug that neither one wanted to ever end, two incomplete halves finally reunited, turning back into a whole.
It was only after hearing the rest of the family shuffling down over that George quickly unlinked himself from Fred. “Get ready” he warned quickly with a bright smile before Bill and Ron tackled him to the floor in a bear hug with Arthur and Percy joining in as he laughed softly seeing Fred struggle to get up with the biggest grin on his face as he got back up and hugged Hermione and Harry before engulfing Ginny in a special hug as he kissed the top of her head before turning his attention to Molly as he barely had time to wrap his arms around her while she kissed his face and cried in joy hugging him tight before calling George over to them as he went over, engulfing both her boys in a much needed hug.
“Well, Mum”-
“Looks-”
“Like-”
“You’re-”
“Gonna-”
“Have-”
“To-”
“Learn-”
“How-”
“To-”
“Tell us apart again” the twins finished in unison as Molly laughed and smiled, cradling their cheeks
“Well, I won’t mind relearning it, but at least George has dark brown hair for the meantime, so easy spot… now if you wouldn’t mind, I would like my children back in the house” she said rather happy as the family started piling into the Burrow as Fred and George stayed back and looked at each other, the shared mischievous glint in their eyes all the language enough they needed to communicate as they subtly started messing around with the kitchen from outside the house, causing a very familiar voice to gripe at them. “FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!!!” Molly yelled, as expected as they both began laughing before wrapping their arms around each other’s shoulders as they made the short walk back into the Burrow while talking animatedly, George still unclear as to how Fred was returned to their lives at this very moment, but one thing was certain from this moment on, as long as he has his twin by his side, George Weasley could now face anything that life decided to throw at him…