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“Now for Hogwarts' Champion.” Dumbledore’s voice filled the quiet Great Hall. Half of the student body were on the edge of their seats. Fred was interested, of course, but not nearly as much as he had been when the Triwizard Tournament was announced. He watched the Goblet’s blue flame bleed to pink as it chose a name. A piece of folded parchment floated through the air only to be snatched by the Headmaster. “Fred Weasley.”
“What?” Next to him George jerked in surprise.
“He’s not seventeen yet!” Someone shouted and there were several variations of that to follow until Dumbledore held up his hand to silence them.
“It seems that when Messrs. Weasley tried to trick the Age Line surrounding the Goblet of Fire with an aging potion,” there was a twinkle in the old man’s eye as he turned his attention to them, “it recognized them as being old enough to participate for those few seconds. Our Hogwarts Champion is Fred Weasley.”
“Go!” George shoved his shoulder with an excited grin. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”
Fred couldn’t either. He could have sworn the Goblet spit their parchment back out when they were tossed from the Age Line. It had taken them, though. Which meant that he had the chance to win this tournament and he wasn’t going to waste it.
While he was excited to compete, he was less than thrilled about Rita Skeeter interviewing them for the Daily Prophet. That witch couldn’t write a truthful story if she tried. He wasn’t going to give her anything that she could twist around. Instead, he was going to lie about every little thing to see how far she would go for a story. It would make for a great laugh when the article was finally published.
“Fred Weasley, is it?” Skeeter sat across from him in the small broom closet. He scrunched up his nose at the close proximity. “You come from a family of nine with six other siblings. That’s quite a lot.”
“To some,” he said, glancing at the small window at the very back of the tiny room.
“You’re a twin, aren’t you?”
“Oh, no, I’m not.” Fred shook his head with a grin. “It’s the funniest thing. I’m adopted. Turns out I look exactly like George, funny huh?”
“Adopted?” The incredulous repeat of the word had him laughing.
“I’m almost a full year older than him. That’s why I could put my name in the Goblet.” The Quick Quotes Quill was writing down everything and he did his best to retain some semblance of seriousness. “I wasn’t even born in April.”
Skeeter gave him a look that said she didn’t believe a word of what he was saying but it wasn’t like she had anything else to go off of. “You said you were adopted,” she started, glancing at her notepad, “do you know your birth family? You look remarkably like the rest of the Weasleys.”
“I dye my hair,” Fred said, crossing his arms on his knees. “I’d stand out with black hair, wouldn’t I?”
“And your other family?”
“I’m a Black.” The quill came to a stop in the air but he didn’t stop talking. “Oh, yeah, my father was a cousin of the Sirius Black and my mother, well, she was a Potter.” He was going to have too much fun with this. “Harry and I are actually cousins.”
The rest of the interview carried on in the same line of lies until he was allowed to leave. Where he gave a wink to Harry when he joined him again. Whatever story Skeeter spins was going to be hilarious and the furthest thing from the truth. She only had his word to go off of, after all. If she asked George there was no doubt his twin would go along with the lies and even add his own.
Breakfast a couple days later was interrupted by a red Howler. Fred shared a glance with George over the Daily Prophet as the envelope started to smoke. No doubt that was from their mother. He dropped the paper to rip open the Howler to get this over with instead of it blowing up.
“FRED GIDEON WEASLEY!” Their mother’s shrill voice filled the entire Great Hall. “I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU!” That seemed like a stretch. “Making up all of those lies about yourself and your family! You should be ashamed of yourself!” Definitely not but he was never going to tell her that. “You know full well that you and George are twins. Not one of my children are adopted, least of all you! A Black? Potter? You have done many outrageous things but this is too much!” He wasn’t so sure about that. “I have no doubt that George was part of this-”
“Hey, wait!”
“-and the moment this school year is over, you’re both grounded!” The Howler was clearly reaching the end. “I cannot believe you two. Honestly, I’m ashamed.” Fred winced at the last sentence as the red envelope blew him a raspberry and tore itself to shreds.
“That could’ve been worse,” he said to fill the silence.
“I thought it was funny,” Ron offered from down the table. “Bloody unbelievable but funny.”
The moment Fred caught sight of the badges that some of the students were wearing he took out his wand. There was nothing wrong with Harry nor had it been his fault that his name was put in the Goblet. A flick of his wand and the badges started spinning with insults about the wearer instead of ‘Potter Stinks’. It was easy to see that he wasn’t the only one doing this either. George was of a similar mind and Lee was following their example. Some things were funny, those badges were not.
It was probably cheating to know about the first task before everyone else because Charlie was one of the dragon tamers but he didn’t really care. He shoved Ron into giving Harry a warning about them then went on with George to focus on preparing. Not that it would be hard. With Charlie as their brother they already knew too much about dragon handling. Sure, these were a bit more vicious on account of being nesting mothers but that didn’t change the fact that he already knew several spells to take care of some of that. He wasn’t the least bit worried.
And he shouldn’t have been. Fred came out with full marks and a golden egg in his possession. Someone commented about him cheating since his brother was a dragon tamer but it wasn’t his fault Charlie chose that career path. Everyone in Gryffindor wanted to know what the clue was for the next task but he and George shouldered all of that onto Harry. They could dig into the clue themselves later. He only partially regretted that when the egg was opened and it started shrieking.
The announcement for the Yule Ball had him debating on waving it off to work on the egg clue but he asked Angelina to be his date anyway. She was cute but he had never been particularly interested. This was more for show than anything. George, in fact, had complained a great deal about having to bring a date before giving in and asking Katie Bell. Fred knew for a fact that his twin had zero interest in girls but it wasn’t like he could go flaunting that. Neither of them were too excited about the Yule Ball. He would much rather be working out the clue for the second task and his brother would no doubt be biting his tongue the entire time to pretend.
As predicted, neither of them had that much fun. He pretended for Angelina but he saw George struggling. It ended with them both ditching the ball long before it ended and sitting in their dormitory working out what the egg could mean.
“You think water could block the sound?” Fred knew his twin was intelligent, hell, maybe smarter than himself, but this seemed ridiculous.
“We’ve tried everything else,” George said with a shrug.
They were already in the prefect’s bathroom so it wasn’t like it would hurt. He turned the egg over on the tile next to the bath and rolled it into the warm water. The top was twisted and he cringed in preparation for the shrieking. Nothing happened. George gave him a smug look before diving beneath the water to see what was happening. With a roll of his eyes, he followed. To find that the egg was singing. It was actually a rather straightforward clue.
It was decided that they could worry about the something he’d miss being taken later. They needed to find a way for him to breathe underwater for an hour. George suggested the bubble head charm but Fred waved it off saying he wasn’t the best at charms. Potions, on the other hand, he was pretty damn good at. Without a doubt there had to be one that allowed the drinker to breathe underwater.
Thank Merlin George was around or he would have completely forgotten to tell Harry about the clue. He had been working on finding the right potion for the last two months that it slipped his mind that the younger boy needed to know. A potion was brewing the night before the task when his brother was called away by a professor to see Dumbledore and McGonagall. They hadn’t done anything to get into trouble recently but George went along anyway. Fred thought it was suspicious considering it was so close to the second task but he had to focus on his potion.
When he found George at the bottom of the Black Lake he knew immediately why he hadn’t seen him since last night. Something he would miss. Damn fucking right he would miss his twin. Any one of his siblings but especially George. He almost tried to get Ron but one of the merfolk stopped him. It looked like he would just have to trust Harry to get his little brother out safely.
It didn’t bother him any when Harry earned first place in the second task. Learning that a maze is going to be the last task was a bit of a bummer but Fred didn’t let it drag him down. He was going to win this thing once and for all. Not that he wanted eternal glory, he and George needed the prize money to kickstart their jokeshop. The last task wasn’t until the end of the year so he didn’t really worry about it. There were some other things he needed to focus on anyway.
The surprise of his mother and eldest brother showing for the last task was wiped away by him pulling Harry along with them. He suffered through his mother getting on his case about the lying to Skeeter and how it was still making appearances in the Daily Prophet. At least Bill thought it was funny. It wasn’t like it was that big of a deal, no one believed it.
Fred hadn’t been nervous for the other two tasks but there was something about this last one that set him on edge. He was confident enough to know that he could reach the center of the maze just fine. There was just something off. It was impossible to put his finger on but he shared a glance with George in the stands to find that he seemed to feel the same. The concerned frown on his twin’s face was echoed on his own. Gut feelings weren’t really things they relied on too often but he wasn’t so ready to disregard it this time. Not when George was just as on edge as himself.
Getting through the maze was a touch harder than he expected but not anything like it could have been. He reached the center of the maze mere moments before Harry came tumbling out of a pathway. There were a couple ways this could play out. The younger boy already had his wand out and pointed, but Fred only put his wand away. Who was to say that they couldn’t both win? Hogwarts came out on top and they could split the earnings fifty-fifty. His idea was waved away. Harry didn’t want the money or the eternal glory, he just wanted out of the maze. Which was fair enough that he didn’t see a reason to argue. They both grabbed the cup at the same time.
He knew the moment the pull of a portkey started that something was going to go horribly wrong. The creepy graveyard they landed in had him reaching for his wand. For a moment he ignored Harry to search for the portkey and found it sitting next to one of the gravestones. Whatever was happening here wasn’t good and they needed to get out. He went to reach out for the younger boy when there was a whisper of feet over grass. Consequences could be dealt with later, he flicked his wand with a stunner rolling off his tongue in the direction of the footsteps. It hit a shield. Fred flicked another spell but it was blocked as well. He couldn’t really see who he was dueling but he had never been very good at duels.
There was something he said to Harry, telling him to get out of there, before a curse was being sent his way. Its green light burned through the air. He knew what it was, had heard the wizard say it, but he still tried to find something to block it. The race of his heart made it hard to focus and his hands were shaking in a way they hadn’t in years, maybe ever. He didn’t wanna die. But he wasn’t nearly strong enough or experienced enough to win this type of fight.
He knew there was something wrong. The moment Fred went into that maze he had the horrible, heart-sinking, feeling that he wasn’t going to come back out. His hands trembled where he had them clasped between his knees and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the hedges making up the maze. People were talking around him and he could even hear his mother and Bill. Minutes ticked by and the dread filling him got worse. Something was wrong, the other two champions had already been pulled back out of the maze.
The sudden appearance of Harry in front of the maze did nothing for George’s anxiety. Not when he immediately saw the frighteningly still form of his brother. Everything in him was yelling and screaming at him to move, to go down there, to make sure it wasn’t true, but he was stuck. Frozen to the bleachers. He had known. Fred was dead and he should have warned him against doing this.
Bill was the only reason he hadn’t remained outside in the Quidditch stands all night. The gentle hands used to drag him to his feet and back towards the school were infinitely better than their mother clinging to Ginny and Ron. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it. Fred was gone and their mother was too overbearing. It would only get worse when it truly set in that his twin was dead but at the moment he was numb to it.
When it did hit he was thankfully back home. Sitting alone in the room he had shared with Fred for all his life. The money from the tournament sat on his brother’s bed, Harry hadn’t said anything when he shoved it into his pocket and walked away. It was a cheap consolation. He didn’t blame the younger boy for anything that happened but he would burn the world down to have his brother sitting on that bed instead. His missing presence was everywhere he looked. Nothing had ever just been his, it had been his and Fred’s. They were twins, a pair, there wasn’t one without the other. Yet, it was just him now.
Fred had always been the one to have explosive and angry reactions to things that pissed him off, been the one to lash out and break something if he was truly upset. George…didn’t. Plain and simple, he just didn’t get angry like that. It had always seemed like his twin got the fiery and destructive anger like their mother where he had their father’s live and let live. But he was livid. In that burning, raging, uncontrollable anger that he had never had before. He ignored the rest of his family calling out to him as he left the Burrow and followed that rage out to where he wouldn’t hurt someone. If he was forced to stay in that place any longer he was going to get someone hurt. No one deserved that, not when he wasn’t sure why he was so pissed off to begin with.
It was like a living flame searing through him. He walked until he reached the edge of the creek that cut through the forest. Any farther and he probably wouldn’t walk back. The twitter of birds annoyed him but he only sat at the edge of the water with a sigh. He didn’t know what it was but he had yet to cry or scream or lose it like everyone was expecting of him. It sat there, simmering in his chest waiting for the moment he broke. Fred was gone, dead and never coming back, simple as that. They were never going to see each other again.
And that was probably what did it. That recognition. He didn’t believe in the whimsical idea of heaven or hell or any in between. There was proof that Fred wasn’t a ghost and he was grateful for that; being a ghost wasn’t living. The only way he’d see his brother again was in pictures. If reincarnation was a thing then they’d no doubt meet in another life but they were separated in this one. Knowing that seemed to cool the rage in his blood back to what he expected of himself. He was beyond devastated, heart broken and oddly empty, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay angry.
George set his hands on the grass in front of him, fingers curled in the damp strands as the creek bubbled along. With his eyes closed against the setting sun, he ducked his head and breathed. Back when he was little and before his Hogwarts letter came in he used to find himself overwhelmed by everything around him and Fred used to do this with him to calm down. Away from the prying eyes of their siblings and mother. He recognized it now as grounding himself - in a very literal sense - and simply existing in this one second. It was something he did regularly at school. The simple process helped him organize his thoughts and split them into things he could deal with immediately and what he couldn’t. Fred was dead and there was nothing he could do about that, but he could take himself. He could trudge through these next few weeks without putting focus on what would happen after.
The whisper of feet over the grass had him lifting his head and opening his eyes. It was completely dark out. A white light was coming from behind him that he knew to be the Lumos charm. He looked over his shoulder and squinted against the light to find Percy lowering the wand. At first he expected his older brother to bring news of their mother asking him to come back but nothing was said as he sat down next to him. Perfect Percy willingly sitting on the dirty ground. The wand was tapped on his crossed legs, making the light dim but not disappear. He wasn’t quite sure what Percy was doing but he simply turned his attention back to the dark trees in front of them.
“Father and I had a falling out,” Percy said after a few minutes. “Our parents are making plans to move you and our siblings to someplace in London. Mother wants you home soon to talk to you.”
“You? A falling out?” George wasn’t all that interested in the fact that the family was being packed up for a move.
“The Ministry doesn’t believe You-Know-Who is back,” he said, “and father is unwilling to see that my promotion could be a good thing.” Percy twisted the wand in his hands. “I don’t doubt that…that’s who killed Fred. I simply refuse to let that fear stop me from working with the Ministry as I am.”
“Promotion?”
“Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic,” his brother said, more than a touch of pride in his voice. “Father says it’s only to keep tabs on our family and Dumbledore.” George had no trouble hearing the bitterness that came with it. “Whether it’s rubbish or not, isn’t the point. He seems to think I’m siding with the Ministry on this You-Know-Who business.”
At that he had to scoff. Percy? Siding with the Ministry after Fred’s death? It’s… “Unbelievable,” he said. “You’re a prat but you’re not stupid.” He looked over at him to find a frown on his face. “But why are you staying at the Ministry?”
“Someone has to keep an eye on the Minister, don’t they?” Percy gave him a look that he never would have thought to see on his rule abiding older brother. “Whether I bring what I find to our parents is up for debate, though. I have no doubt Dumbledore brought the Order of the Phoenix back from the last war so someone will know.”
“I’ll do it.” George turned to his brother. “I can relay the information so you can do your job.”
“You still have school.”
He waved his hand and shook his head. “I’m not going back.” It was something he decided a week ago while sitting at Harry’s bedside in the hospital wing. “Not to the place that got my brother killed.” While it might have been a harsh view, it’s what he needed. “I’ve got a jokeshop to get started on, anyway.”
“Without him?”
“If anything’s going to keep me going,” he said, “it’s bringing that dream to life. I’m not giving it up.”
“Well, I can tell you mother isn’t going to approve.” Percy’s slight grin had him returning one of his own. The first since the start of the third task. “She’s going to lose her head when you tell her you aren’t going back to Hogwarts.”
“Mum’s just gonna have to accept it.”
It was a few minutes later that George hugged Percy for the first time in years. There were many things that went unspoken about him and Fred but one that hadn’t changed since they were young was that Percy was their favorite sibling. He was a prat and annoying as all get out, but that was part of what made him their favorite. Nothing would be said about it. At most he clung to him tighter than he had anyone else and made a promise to keep in touch even if the rest of their family disapproved. He wasn’t losing another brother so soon.
As predicted, their mother was not happy about his decision. George made it plain and simple that he was done with Hogwarts, that he was starting up his and Fred’s dream of a jokeshop, and he would do it with or without her support. It led to a fight that he had been expecting. His point was made and he wasn’t going to argue about it. If she couldn’t understand why this meant so much to him then that wasn’t his problem. The silence that followed the blow up filled Grimmauld Place. Something that only grew worse when he made it clear that he wasn’t joining the Order even though he chose to affiliate with them and relay Percy’s information. His father refused to acknowledge any mention of Percy to the point that they got into it. Tempers had been frayed and everything was out of sorts since Fred’s death and it only seemed to be tearing their family further apart.
To the point that before August could even start he was sending a letter to Percy to ask if he could live with him instead. Their mother couldn’t understand his reasons for quitting school and working on the jokeshop dream while their father was so far into his hatred for the Ministry and Minister that he couldn’t see reason. Ron and Ginny didn’t have a say in what was happening even if George felt guilty about leaving them behind. Bill tried to be sympathetic but ultimately sided with their father like the good eldest son that he was, and Charlie, well, he was Charlie. What Bill did, he did; in terms of their family discussions at least. He had no trouble taking everything he hadn’t unpacked and leaving Grimmauld Place.
The rest of his and Fred’s things in the Burrow were brought to Percy’s place in London. Where his brother chose to keep his thoughts quiet on the nature of the jokeshop products and let him have his own space. Percy was always at work anyway. He had his own work to do that drifted in and out of what he knew Fred had plans for. There was only so much he could craft, invent, and test on his own but he would do what he could and make other things that didn’t require another’s help. And from Percy’s address he didn’t have to worry about mail orders like he would have from Grimmauld Place.
When he finally did shed tears over Fred’s death it was months later on Christmas Day in Percy’s living room. He had gone to see their father at St. Mungo's and returned home with the presents their mother had made for them. Where he ended up clinging to the knitted sweater with his initial while wearing one of Fred’s old ones. There would never be another ‘F’ sweater made and he wasn’t even sure why that had been the thing to break him, but it did.
Percy sat next to him on the couch and without a word they shared a bottle of his brother's wine despite him not being old enough to drink legally. This was the first Christmas spent without Fred but at least he wasn’t alone. And when he woke up the next morning with a pounding headache he only went back to his work.
Life didn’t stop because his brother was dead and he wasn’t going to let it consume him either; even if the loss would be felt in everything he did. George couldn’t justify stopping his life when he knew he was strong enough to wade through the grief. It hurt like nothing ever had but he would survive. The world could throw anything at him and he would carry on. Besides, it wasn’t like he was alone. More than he had lost Fred and no amount of falling outs could make him forget that his family loved him and he them.