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

[George is standing near the portrait when Harry arrives, arms crossed. He nods at him in greeting.]

[He'll nod in return, crossing over to the portrait - he'd been half-expecting having to search it out, but no, here it is, a perfect likeness of Ron. He gives it a good, hard look, almost as though expecting it to speak back. So this is what they're left with, the things Ron had and a picture in a building full of strangers who've come and gone. A picture, and for a minute he sympathizes with Fred's desire for destruction, as though a good hex at the portrait could make things better, somehow. His hand tightens around the wand in his pocket for a moment, before he lets it go and raises a hand to the frame, stopping short of touching the cold metal.

It's the same as a broken shard of glass from a mirror in a shabby pub, an album full of those long gone, a badge for one of the first casualties of the war, a ripped photograph, a forgotten letter, odds and ends that don't make up a memory but are almost close enough to pretend.

He doesn't much feel like pretending, now.]

Alright, Harry?

[Those words, that he's said a million time to the other boy. They don't hold their usual light-heartedness today.]

[He drops his hand when George speaks, as though reminded of his presence, but doesn't look over at him. He's suddenly aware of the fact that this is just one portrait out of many, loads of people whose names he doesn't know, who are also lost to others in the City - if there's anyone left to miss them. There's an entire building dedicated to them, for crying out loud, and this - he can't say how or why, but this matters to him, is something he should've realized much sooner.

He nods, even if he'd said otherwise just a few minutes ago, but does it matter? George knows the answer regardless.]

Rubbish city, this.

It's not so bad, usually. Although days like this make me feel like changing my mind.

[Because they've got Fred, Lily, stolen days in this place, and for that miracle, all of the bad -

(the other person he thinks of is Ginny, who'd had to watch everyone leave, and was it just like this that it happened?)]

At least you haven't got to worry about who's minding the shop, for now.

For now, yeah.

[Not like at home, where it's basically all he worries about...]

[He turns back to the portrait, thinking fleetingly of the one Fred'd drawn not too long ago. He ought to say something to George, really - Ron is his brother - but he still hasn't got anything that would help with this, and at the same time he doesn't want to leave just yet either.]

[George is fine with the silence. More than fine, actually. Ever since... well... back home, he's started resorting to it more and more. He appreciates Harry just being there rather than coming out with some line he's probably heard before. He takes a moment to stand, looking at his brother's picture.]

[Doesn't Harry know it? Those lines never help; words can only go so far to bridge the hole left by losing people (just out of sight, that's all), because after everything's been said and done, they are still gone. Ron might come back here - it's possible, even likely, given how the lot of them have come and gone - but that doesn't change the fact that he's gone right now, that there's no guarantees that the next time any of them see him won't be back in their own world. And that's not better, is it, not with Fred and Lily here and other people who can't be left, not with Ginny who's been here for three years and was so, so pleased when Harry promised - couldn't promise - to spend December with her here. These things are never simple, or maybe they're the simplest things in the world, just stay here with me and don't go anywhere without.]

Edited 2011-11-08 00:41 (UTC)

[Thanks for getting it, bro. George's arms uncross a little and he gives Harry a little nod.]

oo6.

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action; lmao omg i'm sorry EDITS

action; ffffff ALL THE EDITS