A/N: „What are Fred and I? Next-door neighbours?" When I read that line (Order Of The Phoenix) it had me thinking. I couldn't quite forget it – although it was probably just a joke. But I had to write about it.
This takes part several weeks after Fred's death. Molly thinks about her twins and wonders if she has done everything right. If she has been a good mother to them.
I don't have any children of my own. But I tried to put myself in Molly's position to try and find out how she would feel about the situation. I hope I managed to make this authentic.
Oh, and one more thing: As we all know according to JKR (who of course owns all the characters mentioned in this story) George ends up with Angelina Johnson. As you might guess, when it comes to this, the story is AU to agree with the rest of my fics where George is paired with Alicia Spinnet.
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„What are Fred and I? Next-door neighbours?"
Has she really treated them like that?
She knows their relationship hasn't always been good.
The twins were difficult to control, both of them. But does that mean they considered themselves not part of the family? Did she make them feel like they didn't belong? Like she didn't want them?
Back at the time when George said it, the line hardly registered. Molly was too taken with Ron and his success in being made a prefect. But deep down in the back of her mind those words hit a nerve. Hit it hard enough to keep it in her mind until it came back to haunt her now.
What did he mean by it?
Sometimes Molly isn't sure if she really knows George. In fact, she isn't sure if she has ever really known him at all. She thinks that there always was a good-hearted, sensitive personality behind the happily laughing and joking exterior. Sometimes, though, she wonders where the jokes end and the truth begins.
He doesn't tell her.
He doesn't like to discuss his feelings. Never has.
Except with Fred. But that just may be because with Fred he didn't have to discuss them. They understood each other without words.
But there is no Fred anymore.
And it seems that now, several weeks later, there is no George anymore, either.
Sure, he is physically there – mind, he looks tired and pale and much too thin these days – but he is there. She could reach out her hand and touch him. Sometimes it takes all of her composure to not do it.
It seems like there is no soul in him anymore. He has cut himself off from everything. And everybody. He doesn't laugh anymore, doesn't smile, doesn't joke – it seems as though he doesn't care anymore.
About anything.
Molly has lost count already of the many times when she has found Ginny in the kitchen, crying for her brothers, or when Alicia Spinnet has turned up on her doorstep, in tears, asking Molly if she had any idea where George was.
Alicia.
Molly has always liked her. She is intelligent, open and genuinely friendly towards everybody. Right from the beginning she seemed just the girl George needed.
Maybe, Molly thought more than once, maybe Alicia would be the person who could get George to talk about what was going on inside of him. Maybe she could even help Molly understand her son better – because Fred had never been any help when it came to that.
And it seemed for a while that Molly's hopes would come true.
But then it happened. The unthinkable.
These days, Molly often finds herself sitting on Fred's bed in the twins' old room, remembering the days when they were little.
She remembers Fred at the age of two – a small whirlwind with fiery red hair dashing through the house, leaving traces everywhere. Slipping away through her arms whenever she tried to pick him up.
She also remembers George at the same age holding out his small, chubby arms to her, demanding, "Up!" until she picked him up so he could hug her around the neck and cheer. Those moments were short, for George was almost as energetic as his twin, but back then, they meant the world to Molly.
As the years passed by Molly noticed how George turned away from her, to follow Fred. He followed his twin almost everywhere, making his mother wonder whether that was healthy.
So she was all the more happy and relieved when Alicia came into her son's life. She always was such a sweet girl, and Molly was secretly relieved that she was able to pull George away from Fred a bit (no matter how much Fred hated it) and helped him open up to people other than his twin.
But it seems now that she has underestimated how strong the bond between the twins really was. Fred is dead now, and it seems like there is nobody who can help George move on without him.
Molly sighs. She wants her son back.
Both of them.
She knows there's nothing anybody can ever do to bring her Freddie back, but there may still be a chance with George.
Her boy. Her always happily laughing and joking son.
Her brave son. The son who woke up with just one ear left and made a joke about it. She still hears his voice.
"Ah, well, you'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum."
She has always been able to tell them apart. Even if Fred tried to wind her up and she became unsure for a second. Those were the moments when, with a stinging sensation in her stomach, she wondered if she was maybe a bad mother. But in the end it always turned out she was right in the first place.
She knows her sons. She can tell them apart.
The thought always relieved her.
She still can't help wondering what has made George say it?
Did she really care for them enough? Let them know how much she loved them? And will she ever find an answer to those questions?
Right now it seems like she won't.
Molly sighs again and wipes away a tear.
She wants them back. Because there aren't next-door neighbours.
They are her sons.
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