Gred and Forge

"Arthur and Fred,"

"I'm George! Can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?"

"Sorry George,"

"Only yanking your wand, I'm Fred really-"

The hardest thing I ever had to do was walk into 93 Diagon Alley without you. For a place that celebrated pranks and good times it felt suddenly black and heavy, suffocating. Nothing but a great big bloody reminder of every moment I'd ever spent with you. Each product stirred another memory - hours and hours of experimenting, blowing ourselves up, wracking our brains for ideas, searching the halls for a willing guinea pig. How could I stand in that shop day after day selling people laughs? I felt like they didn't have the right to smile, not in our shop, not without you. The first week was shit. I wanted to punch every customer that walked through the door. It was worse when the regulars asked after you. I'd always reply 'the selfish sod got himself killed and left me to look after the shop'. Drew me a few funny looks but I was glad. I wanted them to feel guilty for asking.

So maybe I didn't do it all for you. I couldn't have continued running that shop if I hadn't. I've always been a bit selfish like that.

I remember that last summer you mentioned wanting a plain and simple wedding - nothing like Bill's. I hope I can give you that. Turns out I'm getting hitched myself. Simple and plain, none of mum's fussy frilly nitpicky nightmares (though I kind've want to see Ron in his old dress robes - it's my special day after all)

You'd like her. She's clumsy, got the feet of a giant and can't hold a wand in a kitchen, but funny and a bit mad. Your type. Minds me a bit of Tonks. Maybe that's not a good thing. I should be sick of 'minders of the dead. I get to stare at your ugly mug every day after all. Your eyes. Your hair. Your great ugly freckles. Even your smile now.

Your smile was always sadder than mine, and a bit distant. Mine’s like that now. We’ve never been more alike now you’re dead.

Sure we were top-ranking pranksters and a pair of formidable beaters, but you and me - we were like pumpkin juice and firewhiskey. You were the brains of the team. You also worried more. I took the challenges and you carried the weight, an' always had my back. I hope you knew I always tried to watch yours too. I ballsed it up though, and missed your back the one time you really needed me. I try not to think what the turn out would have been if we’d been fighting together that night instead of you and Percy.

Hah, well gutted for you. Could've been worse, at least you didn't lose an ear.

That night, the night we moved Harry out his muggle house, the night it all started, I'd never felt so sick in all my life. I had a feeling we were going to run into trouble. I had a feeling cos I caught your eyes while Moody was sorting us into groups. They were darker, disturbed - you were trying to tell me something… to be careful maybe. I know you hated letting me out of your sight. Fair dos, let's face it, the shit hits the fan when you aren't there to keep me on a leash (or more like my ear hits the ground).

"You see...I'm holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?"

You can almost pin-point the moment when a person's heart breaks. I thought it would make you laugh, but your face looked flushed and serious... you didn't correct me. And suddenly we both knew we'd finally taken a joke too far. But nobody else mattered at that point. We were protecting each other the only way we knew how.

You knew I had a fragile pride - I was the vain one, popular with the ladies - you knew my ego had taken a real beating with Snape’s curse. Our names meant nothing to either of us, Fred and George, Gred and Forge. There’s old magic in a name – your name's your soul after all. In the wizarding world it’s nothing short of criminal to give it away. Not that we were ever strangers to illegal activites. But we were twins; two sides of the same sickle; different as we were alike; perfectly balanced - I lead, you followed. So swapping names was like swapping hats.

Maybe I was selfish, I should never have let you go ahead and continue the game but I didn't want to see that look on your face again. I knew you felt responsible. So you did the only thing you could think of to keep me smiling. My name and image, still intact and your’s lugless. I thought that people would eventually guess at our prank but suddenly everything was happening so quickly and then, one green flash after the other, you were cut off from me.

Her name's Nox. I don't know if I really love her. How can I when she's marrying you? I just know she'd make you happy. Don't be a git, I didn't give up my own life. I'm just sharing it with you. 'cause your my twin and I've still got your back.

I still get to hear your name every day, that’s more than enough for me.

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The Weasley twin sat hunched before the gravestone, traced the name carved deep into the stone with his finger: Fred

'...it's so much easier seeing my name up there instead of yours.'

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A/N: So what did you think? It’s my first HP fic so please be kind! And before people start bombarding me with ‘I don’t get it’ reviews, Fred and George swapped identities throughout the book due to the ear incident so it was actually George who died. Well a girl can dream (in denial)