Left Behind (A Fred & George fanfic)

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Neville had changed – a lot. He had a lot of stories to tell about nearly everything that had happened at Hogwarts. George didn’t notice it, but Neville mainly kept talking because he knew George didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering him. Neville wondered; why had George come to Hogwarts? Why was he so eager on seeing his son? But he didn’t dare to ask those questions.

So instead he talked. About Fred and James, mostly, about their Herbology lessons, about how James had one day ‘accidentally’ dropped a bag of dragon dung compost on the head of a Slytherin boy named ‘Luke’.

“I didn’t really mind though. That boy reminds me too much of Malfoy.” He shrugged. “Blonde hair, arrogant look on his face, getting other people down the entire time… Yeah, he got what he deserved. I was told it took him hours to get the dirt and the smell off of him.”

George had just taken a sip of his tea and made a choking sound.

When the school bell rang, Neville stood up and made a gesture to the door. “They finished their classes and it’s break now. You better go look for your son.”

George took a breath and got out of his chair as well. He opened the door and turned around to see if Neville was following. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked.

“Nah,” Neville answered while he was rummaging in a large wooden cupboard. “Have to prepare my next lesson. I’m going to start on the Mandrakes with the second-years right now, you know how much trouble those things can cause.”

George smiled. “Thanks, Neville.”

Neville nodded and George closed the door.

It seemed strange, so out of place, walking through these corridors. Since the classes just ended, there were students walking to and fro everywhere. Had those first years always been that small? George asked himself. Maybe one of their parents had once been their test objects, one of the first people ever to try a Ton-Tongue Toffee – after Harry’s lovely cousin, of course.

Most of the students looked at him with rather odd expressions. Yeah, you don’t see many parents visiting Hogwarts like this. Maybe some of the younger students even thought he was a new teacher. If only they’d stop staring.

He was glad when he walked down the stairs towards the Great Hall and saw a familiar red head bouncing along a group of pupils. He rushed towards him, trying not to lose him out of sight. James – who was next to Fred, naturally – caught sight of George and didn’t let that go unnoticed.

“Uncle George?!" he exclaimed over the noise of the people around him. "What are you doing here?”

Fred turned around, clearly confused about James words, and saw his dad.

Laying his hand on his son’s shoulder, George said, “Fred, can I talk to you for a moment, please?”

“But… classes…”

“Sweet! Can I come too?” James interrupted. If George had ever imagined a younger version of Sirius Black, it would have been very much like little James.

 “Actually, I just wanted to ask you to come.” George answered, pushing the two boys through the crowd and steering them towards the viaduct courtyard, where they were all alone. One day, many years ago, the entire school was standing here, watching Fred and George disappear in the distance while fireworks caused chaos and panic among Filch and Umbridge.

“Dad, what is going on? What are you doing here?” Fred asked. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it! I had nothing to do with it!” He pointed towards James. “It was his idea!”

“What?!?” James said. “No WAY! I-“

“Shhhh!” George interrupted. “I don’t care what you did… Or actually I do, good job.”

Fred and James looked at one another, stunned.

“Now, James, your dad told me something today. Something about what you saw on the Marauder’s Map.”

James opened his mouth in understanding, however, Fred didn’t seem to understand anything at all.

“What do you mean?” He turned to James and said it again, more urgently. “What does he mean?”

George hadn’t expected this. James had never told Fred what he had seen, had he realized the meaning of it?

Quickly, and somewhat awkwardly, James filled Fred in on the story. He began murmuring when Spurcus scuffed over the courtyard, looking over to them suspiciously. George decided to ignore him though, he didn’t want any more conversations, surely not with Filch’s successor.

“… So I was thinking, maybe the Fred I saw – the second one – wasn’t you at all,”  James concluded, “maybe it was…” He hesitated and looked at his uncle. Never before had he mentioned uncle Fred in front of him and he wasn’t eager on changing that any time soon.

George looked James straight in the eye. “Can you show me the place?”

James nodded and immediately made his way to the kitchens.

Fred tickled the pear on the painting and soon they stepped into the great Kitchen of Hogwarts. Hundreds of elves were sitting on chairs, probably waiting for the humans one floor up to finish their lunch. All of their little heads turned towards the doors as the trio entered. For a moment the Hall was filled with noise; “Mister Potter! Mister Weasley! What a pleasure!” But soon the noise died away, as if all the house elves were waiting for them to say something.

“Err… Well, it’s nice to be back!” George began. “But we just want to check something, so if you don’t mind?” He turned to James, who had already taking the Marauder’s Map out of his pocket.

They looked eagerly at the map as James folded it back to the basement, where the Kitchens were.

“Where did you see him, James, where?”

James pointed at a certain point of the map. “About here.”

“But there’s nothing.” Fred said.

George looked up frowning. “Fred, could you please go to the exact place you were standing last time?”

Fred nodded and James gave him directions. When Fred stood near the Slytherin table, George and James looked at the map again.

And again, nothing.