There was one undeniable fact that no amount of jokes or laugh could change: they weren’t identical anymore. Oh, Fred knew they weren’t completely alike in personality, even if many people seemed to expect it, but they’d always looked alike. It had always been them against the world, switching and confusing people, and it was harder than he’d expected to accept that they couldn’t do that anymore. George had joked about it, and he’d laughed and shrugged it off when everyone was around, but now they were all gone, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
George was puttering around the flat, wobbling just a little due to the pain potion he’d been given, and Fred wasn’t surprised when he soon flopped on the sofa and fell asleep. If anything, it was a relief because George could tell he was upset and kept trying to act as if everything was the same and it was all okay. Fred knew he was an utterly selfish git for making this about him when George was the one who lost an ear, nearly died! God, the thought of losing George completely made his skin crawl.
They were Fred and George. There wasn’t really a Fred without George, and he couldn’t even fathom the idea of living without him. That thought brought some perspective to the fact that George lost his ear. It could have been far worse. Could have been George. Fred cursed under his breath as he reached up to wipe his eyes. He was glad George was knocked out enough not to catch him crying like a girl.
After watching George sleep for awhile, he stood up and walked over the sofa. He pushed George’s legs up and arranged him so he’d be comfortable while he slept off the potion. He didn’t think he could successfully levitate him to his bedroom, not with as scattered as his emotions were, so he just tucked a blanket around him. God, he was still shaking with fear and relief and anger and he was glad his mum couldn’t see him.
Fred summoned a chair and sat beside the sofa, just staring at George. For nearly twenty years, looking at George had been like looking in a mirror. Regardless of anything else in the world, there’d been comfort in knowing he had George, had that connection that so few people could ever understand. While the connection was still there, would never go away no matter what, it hurt to look at George and no longer see himself. He’d have to deal with it, of course, and he knew he’d adjust cause not doing so would just hurt George, and he didn’t want to do that at all.
Still, as he sat there staring at George, he couldn’t help reaching up to touch his own ear. Maybe if he was careful, he could cut his the same way. No, that wouldn’t work. Mirror images were inverted, would have to be his other ear to match George’s whenever he looked at him. He dropped his hand and reached for his wand, casting a transfiguration charm to expand the sofa before he lay down beside George and let himself cry.
It’d never be the same, but they'd adapt because they were Fred and George. Nothing would ever change that.
End
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