Disclaimer: all the rights belong to JKR
Cockroach Clusters: "I hope you find someone who knows how to love you when you are sad." (Golden Snitch forum)
It fell (QP, Hogwarts Houses Challenges)
"Shit..." (DC, Hogwarts Houses Challenges)
George thinks only Fred knows how to reach him when he's sad. Turns out he may be wrong.
Fred cursed himself the moment he saw his brother like that. George sat on the bed, his back against the headboard, his head hooded and pressed to his knees.
"You don't have to lock yourself in this room when you're sad, you know?" Fred sadly said. "Once a prankster, always a prankster; I get it. But it's okay. If you're sad… you can cry."
George's head snapped as he looked at his twin in disbelief. He didn't wonder, he didn't ask what he was doing there, he didn't question him at all. He just stared at his brother and ordered him to shut up, his voice cooler and angrier than he meant, but Fred understood. He always did. That's why it was so easier to let him in when George was upset or hurt or scared. Fred just knew how to love him even in those dark times. Fred was the only one allowed to comfort him.
"Please, George. It's not healthy. You must allow someone to see your pain so that you can heal."
"What if I don't want to? Plus, you're seeing me. You were always there, seeing me. I don't need anyone else."
"Yeah, well. I don't really count anymore, though."
There it was. The unwanted, tragic reminder that Fred was d… gone. And George, for the first time, couldn't follow him.
Fred went on, "But I still think—"
"Don't you dare, Fred. Don't you dare try to tell what I should do. It's not up to you," George snapped. "Just… leave me alone, ok? Please?" He couldn't speak about it because he was not ready to accept it, to let him go for good.
Fred gathered him into his arms without saying a word, waiting for George to calm down and stop to struggle against his embrace.
"Are you ready to go?" Fred whispered in his ear.
"To your funeral?" George was almost sure he had gone completely mad by now. Once more, he looked up at his brother who didn't fail to notice the single tear hanging in George's eyelashes.
It fell.
Before Fred could say or do anything, it simply fell.
"Shit..." George said.
Fred gently squeezed him.
Neither of them was ready to say goodbye.
2 years later
George stared at the grave. He didn't cry because really, he couldn't; not with Angelina so close to him.
"Go ahead," she softly said. "I know you don't like it when they see you when you're sad, but I don't… I don't think I matter."
He gasped. He didn't want for her to feel like she didn't matter, because she did. So much.
She smiled at his expression and quickly reassured him. "What I meant is, I don't matter because I can see you soul just as well as you can see mine, and my heart understands yours."
It was when George understood. "I love you, Angelina."
"I know, yes. Love you too."
She didn't count in the same way Fred didn't count. Because they both loved him. And it worked. It was enough.