oo6.

[feorge]

[ 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!]

Comments

voice;

[outlive]

[No. No, of all people to go, anyone he might've guessed it would be, he wouldn't've thought Ron.]

Fred, George -

[And in the great lack of words to put on his own feelings about this, he falls into peacekeeping, taking a placating tone.]

voice;

[feorge]

Good to know you haven't forgotten our names, Harry. I might've worried.

[Y E P. That's all you get from him right now. He's not having any of this.]

voice;

[outlive]

[Okay, you know what 8|]

Taking it out on everyone else isn't going to change anything.

voice;

[feorge]

[What, Harry? 8||]

'course it isn't. Nothing is going to change anything, so what's the point in dwelling? Or shall I gather everyone so we can have group hugs and a crying session? Don't expect me to wipe your bogeys.

voice;

[outlive]

[That's enough to goad him into a snap.]

Right, because you're the only one who's lost someone today - stupid of me to forget!

voice;

[feorge]

[Snap all you want, Harry. Ron's lost to everyone and Fred knows that, but he's far from rational when he's upset and at the moment, upset is an understatement.]

S'all right, mate. Everyone's got their moments of being daft.

[He hasn't lost anything. What'll it take to get you twats to realise this?]

voice;

[outlive]

[Open invitation for snapping is a good thing! He'll take it maybe a little too gladly, something to focus on instead of the emptiness of Ron's absence.]

Including you, I see.

[Pity the living.]

voice;

[feorge]

You've no idea.

[There's an edge of challenge in his tone, a sort of 'try me,' but there's also a hint of defeat. He's been so stupid, letting himself get caught up this inexplicable second chance, thinking that maybe he can just keep on living here like everything is right as rain. Like this is normal and good when it's really anything but - it's more like a dream, and once we all wake up, there'll be nothing left but a picture in a hallway and no one to look at it. He'd been afraid of this since day one, but he refused to acknowledge it and once again, the last thing he's said to Ron was a teasing remark and a half-hearted retort.

Again. The last thing Ron'll remember of him is him tearing the mickey - again.]

voice;

[outlive]

I dunno, I think you're doing a good job of showing it.

[And maybe it's harder because this is Fred, because talking to him and joking with him every day while knowing - an explosion, blood and pain and darkness and above all the sound of Percy's scream, and it was all, all over - is hard enough, rips in a little deeper every time. Here it is, the reminder that even this won't last forever, that the scales balancing living and dead can only last so long like this before starting to correct itself. Not everyone gets a miracle of magic to bring them back (not everyone gets an hour or months to resign to the end)]

voice;

[feorge]

Can think of a fair few others ways to show it, if you'd like. We can get creative.

[Read as: he'll hex you into next Thursday if you really want to have a go. Because clearly lashing out at his only remaining younger brother makes perfect sense. It feels like it's all he's good at these days, because everything else has become so bloody difficult. He's never been good with emotions, with dealing and coping or any of that rubbish, but here, it's so much harder. He doesn't know how to tell them all that he's downright miserable, or that he misses Ron, that he fears they'll all leave him, that this time with him will be forgotten. That he'll be forgotten.

It's so much easier to ask for row. To punch walls and throw things and spit half-hearted threats at the man that least deserves them. Fred doesn't know how to do much else.]

voice;

[outlive]

[It's not that it isn't tempting to rise to the bait, because it is, and Harry reads the subtext as plainly as if Fred had outright said it. It'd be satisfying, wouldn't it, to at least talk of having a go at each other like that, work off anger and sadness in that way without ever having to lift a wand. But this is Fred, this is Fred, and Ron is his brother, and - Harry reins in his temper and levels his voice this time, speaks quietly, remembers that Fred is in a building for remembrance in front of a picture of his youngest brother.

(When he tries to think of what to say, he thinks of Luna in the minutes after, coaxing patronuses out of them and reminding them to keep fighting.)]

We're still here, you know - the rest of us.

[And you, he doesn't say, you are too.]

voice;

[feorge]

Yeah, well.

['Won't catch me thanking anyone for your horrid mugs,' but that's not true at all, is it? Teasing is one thing, but he doesn't have the heart for it right now. Doesn't even really have a heart at all, just a useless, beatless pound of flesh sitting in his chest, and that's the problem, right there. Not moving but it still hurts, and how could he ever dare to betray it?

A rare moment of honesty, and Fred quiets a beat.]

You can't promise you'll be here tomorrow. Or even by the time we get back.

voice;

[outlive]

[He makes a soft sound at that, accepting it, but there's a note of firmness in his answer.]

I said to Ginny that we'd be here for her anniversary in December. [And that's what matters, in a way. Then, fiercely:] I can't promise I'll be here tomorrow, but if the deities think I'll go quietly, they've got another thing coming.

voice;

[onlyholey]

Harry.

voice;

[outlive]

The Hall of the Missing, then?

[As if he doesn't know, but what else is there to say?]

voice;

[onlyholey]

Yeah.

[Yep. Words. What are they even?]

voice;

[outlive]

[WHO KNOWS.

He breathes out lowly before answering, and isn't this just surreal? A picture in a hallway all of a sudden? It seems like Ron ought to be bursting through the door any moment now, asking what all the fuss is about. Gone, gone, gone like that time in the tent, only without any anger or parting words.

He'd take the anger over this.]

You're all right?

[The most obvious, but again - what can be said?]

voice;

[onlyholey]

Are you?

[Evasion! It works every time. George's got quite good at it.]

voice;

[outlive]

[FFFFF, that is the last thing he wants to talk about, George Weasley. But he'll be honest.]

No, not really. Ought - [and this seems stupid too, but it's something to offer and it's better than having nothing to offer] - I, I dunno, meet you two there?

voice;

[onlyholey]

If you'd like. It's a bit creepy in here, to be honest. But it's the closest we're going to get to saying goodbye.

voice to action;

[outlive]

Yeah, all right. See you soon.

[And it is not long after their talk that he'll be letting himself in, after Apparating over.]

action;

[onlyholey]

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

action;

[outlive]

[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.]

action;

[onlyholey]

Alright, Harry?

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

action;

[outlive]

[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.