Waldosia/// George Weasley

Epilogue

May 3, 2008
It wasn't a far walk from the shop to the cemetery, but to George it seemed like an eternity as his nerves bubbled up inside him. Every step they took closer, George's insides began to distort with anxiety. He couldn't shake it from his head, Freddie should be here. Freddie should've been here. Freddie should've been alive for his wedding.

He felt the shortening of his breath, the tears burning behind his eyes, the wind whipping against his skin as he sped up. Everything was too much for him. His own scream haunted his mind as he saw Fred lying dead on the floor playing over and over again in his head. He should be alive and here and watching him from his spot as the best man. Instead, he's gone.

Some days he regretted letting go of the the magical portrait of Fred that Clover had got him, some days like this exact one. But he couldn't hold onto Fred anymore, he wouldn't do that to himself nor his brother for any longer than he already did. It was 5 years ago, but he still remembers the moment as if it were happening right now.

"No, Georgie."

He looked up at his brother's painted face and felt his heart close up at his answer. It had to be a joke, he thought.

"Very funny, brother," he laughed hesitantly, "Of course you'll be my best man."

"I can't."

That's when the panic set in, and when he looked up, the sad smile on Fred's face told him he was right. George didn't know much about magical portraits, but what he did know was that a soul couldn't be in two places at once. It was either in the picture, or somewhere else. Somewhere better. Fred promised to stay as long as George needed him to, but he knew he wouldn't stay forever. Fred deserved to be at peace. And a small voice in his head told him that he deserved his own peace as well; George knew he could never be at peace if Fred was still here, not alive but not dead.

"I'm a painting, Georgie," Fred was speaking against, softer this time after seeing the crazed look in his brother's eyes, "I'd much rather watch my brother get married from up there than from in a tiny frame."

George couldn't speak. He knew it was true, but he knew how much it'd hurt when he'd have to let go of Fred all over again.

"I wanted to be here until you don't need me anymore-,"

"I don't want you to go, Freddie," George responded abruptly, pleadingly.

"But you don't need me to stay," Fred kept on smiling, "It's time for me to go back."

The room fell silent again and George felt his heart pull and stretch and ache painfully, but not break. Because, this was always the plan. It had been the plan since Fred died. They'd meet again someday, but this wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't forever.

"Mischief managed, yeah?" Fred's voice broke the silence, and George had to physically hold himself up from heaving in on his own body, "Besides I think we both know who your best man is."

As if he knew, Lee stumbled into the room, "Oi, what are you-,"

Lee stopped abruptly at the somber feeling in the room, "What's going on?"

No one spoke, no one breathed, but all 3 boys understood.

"Give 'em hell for me, lads," Fred spoke one last time and then was gone from the picture, leaving an empty frame hanging all alone on the wall. And, leaving George and Lee clutching at each other for support before they both fall to the ground in tears.