feorge | oo6.

[ accidental video ]

[An absolute silence hangs between the twins as they stare at a picture frame hanging on the wall. Some might recognize the photo within it, others still might recognize the Hall it's posted in. And even if they don't, Fred and George can hardly spare a moment to care, because that silence has a rather tight grasp on them, forcing them to recognize them both for what it is.

Ronald Weasley has left the City.

Fred looks over to George, a look of discontent (and perhaps even anger) clear on his face, before looking back over to the frame.]

So that's it, then? Gone without so much as a sound, just a photograph in some dreadful hallway?

You tell me. You've the one who's been here longer.

[George runs a hand over his face. Without even thinking about it, his hand reaches out and grips firmly onto Fred's shoulder.]

He'd barely even got here.

[Fred visibly tenses at the hand on his shoulder, much as it should be a comfort, and he looks up to the ceiling for a moment before shaking his head.]

Unbelievable tosspot.

[His voice does not sound strained there, thank you very much, and there is nothing even close to a deep, shaky exhale to follow before he shrugs George's hand from his shoulder and turns to leave.]

We ought to go muck up his room. Test out those new fireworks.

[George crosses his arms and fixes Fred with a hard stare.]

Don't be a prat, Fred. That's the last thing everyone needs right now.

The last thing everyone needs right now--!

[In the process of shouting, and Fred only stops to notice the device is recording them. A low string of swear words can be heard as he walks up to it and his hand covers the feed for the briefest of moments before everything starts spinning and the feed ends with a crash!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Should have left the damned thing at home.

[But he'll go and pick it up anyway. Of course it's already back to working order. He glares, considering throwing it again, just for good measure.]

[George doesn't say anything when Fred starts tossing his device around. He knows Fred has to get it out of his system, and it's better to do in to an object than a person.]

You'd of thought we'd learned out lesson by now.

[His arms are still crossed, and he smiles at Fred, slightly. Everything about the way he's standing seems to be helping holding himself together.]

[Honestly, where's Malfoy when you need him? 8|]

You'd think.

[He ultimately decides against smashing it again and tosses it in the air once to catch it and shove it in his pocket. It's then that he notices George's smile, his calm, and somehow that hurts just a little bit.]

Suppose we'll have to try again next time.

[Because there will be a next time. Some day Harry might leave, or Hermione. Gin's been here three years, she can't stay forever. And George - one day he'll leave him too. They've all got lives to get back to, places to be. Fred's only got them. Here. Now.

For whatever mysterious reason, he can't quite keep his eyes on his brother's face. He turns away again, a hand coming up to cover his mouth before running it through his hair. He can't let it all fall apart now. Not again. He'd only just put himself back together.]

I'd rather we didn't get too much practice, if it's all the same.

Don't think we have much of a say in the matter, Georgie.

[He's trying to sound bitter, angry and hateful, but it just comes out quiet and tense. Hurt, because how long will it be before his twin leaves him too?]

[Do you think he wants to leave, Fred? He doesn't want to go back to a home without you anymore than you do. Instead he just keeps that thought buried in the back of his mind. But today, well... its a little harder to ignore. He crosses his arms a little tighter, holding himself it.]

It's all bollocks.

[Much as Fred tries to keep the thought at the back of his mind, it's the one thing he's always thinking of. Always, and it never changes. Ron's leaving just makes it that much harder to ignore.]

It is, the whole—bloody—lot—of—it!

[Emphasis on each word, and maybe it's a bad thing he didn't keep the device in his hand after all because now he's just punching the wall. Your hand doesn't heal quite as well as the magical City technology, Freddie.]

Bloody- Fred!

[George jumps in, and in a moment he has his brother around the shoulders, pulling him away from the wall. He knows it'll piss him off. At least if he punches him it'll hurt less than the wall.]

[Right on that one, brother, and Fred struggles against George's hold until he's got enough leverage to pull free and turn to give him a shove against his chest.]

No, George!

[But now he's stopped, his hand starts throbbing in pain and he flexes it once before cradling it in the other and staring down to his feet.]

Just...no.

Just take it out on something that less likely to give you a fracture.

Now where's the fun in that?

[He scoffs, shaking his head.]

There aren't any real healers in this place, mate. Look, we can go blow up some trees when we get home. Just... don't do that to yourself.

[Ever the voice of reason. Fred runs a shaky hand through his hair and exhales softly.]

Right. Sure.

[A beat, and he shakes his head again.]

Sorry.

's alright, mate.

I don't blame you for wanting to.

[God knows he's probably done worse things to himself back home.]

[That's not what he meant, not really. There are a million and a half things he's got to apologise for, and his hand's the least important of them all. But he can't. Not now. Not ever, probably. So he nods his head, keeping his eyes lowered.]

You'll wait here for Harry?

'course. Where're off to?

Can't stay here. This place is dead depressing.

[He can't stand to look at Ron's portrait any longer. It's driving him mad.]

Alright. Try not to punch any more holes in the plaster, would you?

I shall try my hardest.

[Which means not that hard. He pauses a beat, tightening his grip around where his wand's hidden in his pocket.]

...You'll be there to fix them if I should, right?

[Fred's way of asking 'You'll be coming back, right? You won't leave too?']

'course I will, Freddie. Someone has to be around to clean up your messes.

[Believe him, brother. He is clinging onto this place and holding tight.]

[He laughs just a little.]

Some day, you shall make a fine wife, Georgie.

Cheers, Fred. 's appreciated.

My pleasure.

[He winks, takes one last lingering look (what if it's his last?), then Apparates back home with a crack!]

oo6.

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