I wrote this to get over Fred's death. Even though I don't personally accept the fact that he died, I pretended I did long enough to write this. I hope this can help others as much as it did me.
I own nothing.
After-effects and Communication
"How's George doing?"
Ginny shrugged, swirling her coffee slowly. "He's… much better than we hoped. Different though—by a lot."
Hermione tipped her head to one side. "How so?"
The redhead looked up, smirking. "Well, for one thing, he's gotten a lot more daring." She paused to take a sip. "And you know how Fred invented and George made the harebrained ideas work?" Hermione nodded. "Well, not only is George working out Lee's and Ron's ideas, but he's come up with at least…" She counted on her fingers. "seven ideas of his own just in the last two months. And they're good, too. Better than Lee's and Ron's, at least."
Hermione stared out the Burrow's kitchen window, but still listening intently. "Better than Fred's?"
Ginny looked down at the table, tracing the ring her cup left with her finger. "I think they might be," she whispered as if it might break if she said it any louder.
Hermione looked back and caught her friend's eye. "What is it?"
Ginny swallowed, then stared Hermione straight on. "I think George is an animagus."
She choked a bit on her coffee and grabbed a napkin, dabbing at her lips. "An animagus?"
Ginny nodded. "But George is good at Charms and Fred was good at Transfiguration. They copied homework off each other anyway. But George couldn't turn a bunny into a button without leaving the ears on."
Hermione had to smile. That was George all right. "Why is this bad, though? Isn't this just his way of dealing with it? By pushing himself in new areas?"
Ginny sighed wearily. "I don't know… I just hope that you're right."
The dust in the back of the cabinet always made George sneeze. He just hoped neither of the girls heard him that last time. It'd be a shame to have to crawl back up the tunnel and miss such a fascination conversation. After all, it's not everyday that you get to eavesdrop on two people having a heart-to-heart about yourself.
His whiskers twitched. Oh wonderful, another sneeze… He scurried back up the tunnel and into his own closet, forcing the fox-form down, back, and re-embraced his wizard self.
"Achoooo!"
He shook his head to clear it and grabbed his wand, covering up the tell-tale hole.
His wand.
George looked at the length of willow in his right hand. And pulled out the mahogany one he used with his left. Fred. He swallowed, but with a light smile. After he'd lost his ear, it'd sobered them both a bit. They weren't immortal, or invincible. Interesting conversation they'd had that night. But for some unknown reason, both of them had first thought of their wands. And they'd agreed immediately that, should anything happen, they'd take care of the other twin's wand. They'd always been able to do anything but their specialty subject just as well (sometimes better, even) with the other one's wand. But now…
George continued staring down at Fred's wand. That blasted, hideous fateful day when Fred died. He'd touched his twin's wand—just to pick it up—then. His left hand had closed around the hard wood. Instantly an electric shock had run up his entire arm, the wand buzzing with power. Then the growing power spread into his own wand, now humming in flawless syncopation with Fred's
And a voice had whispered into his now-deaf 'holey' ear, "I hope you like mahogany."
George had to smile and hold back tears at that; he'd had to every time he thought of it. But each hand had chosen a wand and he could duel with them both, equally, at the same time. Harry and he had discovered that in a mock-duel later. And Harry had promised not to tell. Which meant Ginny, Hermione, and Ron all knew.
But every once in a while, every blessed once in a while, Fred would have something else to say. Be it instructions for his latest difficulty in Transfigurations, a new WWW idea, or simply to talk.
This one was different, though.
"Hey Georgie," Fred whispered by way of the connecting ear, "Hermione seems awful concerned about you." He could practically hear Fred smirking.
George's face crinkled. "Yeah, and…? My twin is sort of dead."
Fred chuckled. "Sort of. But I also happen to know that she and Ron ended with no real hard feelings. And she still happens to have a thing for red hair."
George raised his eyebrows. This was interesting…
"And foxes."
He stopped on his way to the door, smile growing. "That's some valuable information there, Freddy."
Fred laughed. "Just make good use of it."
George smirked hard enough for both of them. "I will."
"Good. Oh, and George?"
"Yes?"
"Snape says 'Hi'."