Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter Fred Weasley woulnd't be dead, so it must be someone else who owns it, and guess what, I think I know her name... it's J.K. Rowling!

Thanks to my beta-reader LoveYouFred, you did a great job!

GEORGE'S LETTER

Hi, Guys!

I never thought I would do such a thing, but I am. I'm writing you a farewell letter. I'm so sorry that I'm doing this to you, but I don't want you to be sad about my death. I'm sorry for killing myself, but I beg you to be happy. Happy, because Fred and I will be together again. I don't wanna live without him. I just can't. We are meant to be together forever. Even meant to die together.

When I saw him in the Great Hall, I wasn't able to believe he was gone. It wasn't fair. I didn't want to be just George. I wanted to be Fred AND George, 'cause only that feels right. "Just George" isn't real; "just George" isn't good for anyone. It's not that we're leaving you forever; you just won't see us anymore. We will always be with you, watching over you. By the time you read this letter, it'll be too late, but don't cry, Mum. Think of Fred and George. We always wanted to be remembered as the twins, who always stuck together and who always were taking the mickey out of everyone. When I'm alone, I'm only a shadow, less than a shadow. Fred and I always wanted to be remembered in one breath, not two. I hope you understand. If not, don't be angry with me. What I've done is the best for everyone. I'll be together with Fred again and you won't have this less-than-a-shadow-me around you, always reminding you of Fred and the happy times we all had together in the Burrow, in Hogwarts, everywhere.

I hope you understand why I killed myself. I'm still sorry for doing that, but I can't be happy without Fred. Remember when we always called ourselves Gred and Forge? I want you, to remember us as those two. Honestly, I cried every night after Fred died. I know that Ginny saw me and I thank you, Ginny, that you didn't tell anyone. Gred and Forge are meant to be together, 'cause without one another they are nothing. Do you understand?

So, there are some things I wanna say to some of you.

Let's see. Mum: I already told you not to cry. Always remember, that your little twin-boys are happy again. And let me say, that we (yeah, the both of us) are sorry, that we did so much rubbish. But these are the things we want all of you to remember. Sorry for the broken windows (yes, the face that I'm smiling and laughing as I write that means we're not that sorry).

Dad: We hope you always remember that little trip Fred and I made in your old car to get Harry. We are a little sorry that mum gave you so much trouble for it, but we always knew that you were proud. And we want you to never forget about the trouble-twins.

Bill and Fleur: Bill, you were great. Always. You never got too angry with the two of us. Thanks, really. We hope you and Fleur will be happy together. And I really hope that all of you children will have , and Bill, I hope you will forever resist Mum's hair-cutting-sessions.

Charlie: Same as Bill. Okay, not that I want you to be happy with Fleur, but be happy. Go back to your dragons and name them Fred and George, or better Gred and Forge (or both).

Percy: Oh Perce. You were the last one Fred was laughing with. I know that we've always been hard on you, more so than to anyone else. But don't be angry, we aren't even sorry. It was so funny when you got mad at Ron when you thought he had stolen your Head Boy Badge (sorry for that, Ron). You were always so incredibly funny when you were angry, Perce. But nevertheless, I beg you, to run Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. I really beg you, and I know Fred would say the same. We know that you probably won't start working at Ministry again and we want you to have some fun. Ask Lee Jordan to help you with some new inventions, he'll also help you with the shop. In our room, you'll find some notes and instructions for other sweets and stuff Fred and I left.

Ron: Hey, youngest man in house. I'm glad to hear that you and Hermione are together now. I thought it would never happen. Good luck to the two of you. And Ron, I'm sure you will never forget when Fred's toy broom got broken... You should have seen your face when your teddy turned into a spider (I can almost hear you saying "That's not funny," but believe me, it was).

Little sister, Ginny: Remember the day you saw Harry the first time? Fred and I had been joking about you all the time on the Hogwarts Express. It wasn't a big surprise to hear the two of you also managed to get together. So, now, Fred and George can't take care of you. I'm quite sorry. But, on the other hand, I can imagine that it wasn't always a pleasure to be guarded by the two of us. Oh yes, and you're very good at Quidditch. Thought I should tell you. Hermione told us that you broke the shed at the age of six. Congratulations, little sister! Neither Fred nor I got it at the age of six. We were seven.

Harry, Hermione: Welcome to the Weasley family. Harry, take care of Ginny. If you don't, Fred and I will find a way to hex you. Hermione, take care of Ron. I suppose that's quite more important than him taking care for you (don't be angry Ron, you can't do anything).

Don't cry for us. Never forget us. Just remember us as Gred and Forge.

That's it. Sorry for doing this, but I love all of you. Sure we'll meet again, but for now, I'll join Gred.

Bye,

Forge

George stared at the three pages he had written. Yes, it was good. Tears had run down his cheeks when he started writing, but the pain from the loss of Fred became smaller and smaller as he went on. By the time he signed the letter, it was finally gone. Just like he soon would be. He knew he should have been sad or something, but he wasn't. Well, only a small part of him was. But the knowledge that he was about to see his twin brother Fred again in just minutes made him happy. It was a strange kind of happiness. He just couldn't describe the feeling.

The plan to kill himself had come to him very quickly. The day after his brother's funeral, just yesterday, he woke up and there it was, complete and just waiting to be followed. He had woken up very early and decided that it was the only way to be happy again; to follow his dead twin, his other half, his soul.

He went to breakfast as usual, and acted as he had since the loss of Fred. He had become very quiet and barely talked to anyone. After breakfast he went to his room again and started writing down everything he could think of that would be useful for Percy to manage their shop.

There were so many ideas for inventions in his mind. He went for the few pages he and Fred had written just days before and put all of them into a little box on which he wrote in big letters "Inventions: Gred & Forge." And under that, in a smaller writing, "will help you WWW, for Perce".

It was time for lunch, when he was ready. He went down, ate quickly, and told his mum that it was the best thing he had eaten for months and smiled to everyone. Well, he tried to smile.

He went upstairs and asked Percy to join him in. Percy went after his brother and the other family members looked a bit worried.

George led his older brother into the room he had shared with Fred since before he could remember. They both sat down on George's bed.

"So, what is it?" asked Percy. "You wanna take the mickey out of me in private?" George didn't miss the hopeful sound in his brother's voice.

"Well, no. Not this time. It's not that funny without... you know." George forced himself to hold back the tears that burned in his eyes. "I wanted to show you something." With one finger he pointed to the box he had packed a few hours earlier. "This is where we put our ideas for the joke shop," he explained. "We had a lot. And there are some items we never had time to release."

They both knew who was 'we'. Percy looked worriedly at his brother, "George, why are you telling me this? Why the brother who left family and who was never any fun?"

"Dunno," was the short answer. Then, after a little silence, George continued with a quiet voice. "I'm asking you to help me with the shop." It was out. Finally.

"What?" asked Percy, who was completely taken aback.

"I can't handle this on my own. And I can't close the shop. It was his dream... Our dream. And it felt right to ask you. It just seemed like a good idea to me. You were the last one, he was laughing with. And so... it seems like it's meant to be your future." George spoke quietly and very fast, "So, will you help me?"

"Yes, of course I will. It's something, I think, I have to do. Something I want to do. I really would like to help you."

"Thanks."

After a minute Percy left and George recalled his plan. Everything had gone well to this point.

An hour later, he disapparated to the graveyard and went to his brother's grave. He stared at the stone and felt the tears running down his cheeks.

"Fred," he whispered, half hoping the sound of his name would bring him back to life, "Fred, I miss you". It seemed to him, like the leaves whispered to him, "I miss you too, Forge." A sad smile came to his face. "Gred, I will follow you. I can't stand being alone. And I can't stand being surrounded by the family. I want you. And only you. Only one day more and we will be together again. I wrote them a letter to explain. I think you know what I mean. I know you couldn't live without me like I can't live without you. When I looked into the mirror yesterday it nearly killed me. It was like starring at your face. I know it was me but the thought of being reunited soon is more comforting than anything. I've asked Percy to take care of our shop. I think you'll agree that he's the best one for it. Lee will help him, I hope. So, that's it. Tomorrow I'll go to Hogwarts and I'll steal a little bottle of poison out of Snape's store. And then I'll be with you. Forever. I love you, Gred. And we will see each other again. Tomorrow. I just can't wait."

The words came out of his mouth very quickly. He knelt beside the grave and whispered "See you tomorrow. In the night, I'm coming. Wait for me?" A small voice in his head, he may have imagined it, said, "Of course you moron. I will be there."

"Bye Gred" George whispered and with that he stood up and walked away.

Back at the Burrow it was almost seven in the evening. George had walked a part of the way home to give himself time to think, then he disapparated.

Dinner was served when Mr. Weasley came home. George knew he was going to see his father only once more like this, and never again. He sighed. When his eyes came to the empty chair of his twin brother, tears came to his eyes again. It was hell. And he had lived in this hell since the battle of Hogwarts. Every time he saw a little trace of someone missing, the tears came back. He didn't want anyone to see him crying like this, he forced back tears. Every night he had cried. But this was his last night. He would never ever cry again. It was the last night of his life. It made him feel better. He knew this was a strange way to comfort himself, but it worked.

He ate quickly and didn't speak a word, as usual. He ignored the worried faces of his family.

"Think I go to bed early this evening," he said in a low voice, gaining more attention than he had thought he would, he didn't usually announce this, he just did it.

"Good night, everyone" he said, still quiet but with a very tiny smile upon his lips.

"Good night" echoed everyone, looking worriedly at George.

He didn't really want to cause them pain, but he knew that if he didn't the pain of losing Fred wouldn't stop growing inside him. And so, he tried to convince himself it would be better for his family if they didn't have to watch him become an empty shell.

George stood up and turned around towards the stairs. "I... I love you" he whispered, still facing the stairs. He knew they heard him and he knew they now wondered why he told them now.

Slowly George went upstairs, trying to fight the urge to turn around and tell his parents everything. How he missed Fred, what his plans for the upcoming night were... He shook his head and kept going.

Back in their room George threw himself down on the bed of his dead brother. He had sworn he wouldn't cry again but he couldn't help himself when he saw an old photograph of the twins lying on the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room. It must have been taken in their first year at Hogwarts, with no shadows of the coming evil, frightening, sad future on their faces.

Both had identical, mischievous grins on their faces, proudly wearing brand new Gryffindor scarves, waving into a camera.

George felt as if somebody had punched him in the stomach. Though tears were now falling on the photo in his shaking hands and the pain was nearly unbearable, he smiled a desperate smile.

"Fred..." he whispered.

Drying his tears with the sheets on the bed, he stood up and put the old photo into his pocket. He grabbed his wand and an old cloak, which might well have been Fred's, and exhaled harshly.

Well. That's it, then, he thought, and apparated to Hogsmeade.

It was strange being so near to Hogwarts, where he and Fred had shared so many happy moments and where, just a few days ago, the final battle had taken place.

Where he had lost his brother. His soul. His other half. His Fred.

The thought of Fred's dead body made George shiver and he moved on, quickly approaching the damaged gates of the Hogwarts.

He passed them without anyone noticing, though he seriously doubted that anyone was out there now. He didn't even know if there was someone near. But, to be honest, he didn't care.

He wasn't here to visit someone; he was here to get himself something which he needed really desperately.

Despite the darkness George tiptoed through the grounds towards the entrance, as quietly as possible.

The entrance gate was open and creaked slightly in the evening breeze. George slipped into the entrance hall and a strange feeling of home and deep sadness arose in his chest. Nobody was there, yet he felt as if around a hundred pairs of eyes were staring at him. He tried to ignore the feeling and made his way towards the dungeons.

While crossing the hall memories of he and Fred were drifting through his mind. Was his life already flashing before his eyes? It couldn't really be, could it? He wasn't dying. Not yet.

Fred and I on our brooms, flying towards the doors, fleeing from Umbridge. Fred and I taking the mickey out of some stupid Slytherins on the stairs. Fred and I on the way to the headmasters office. Fred and I on the way to the Quidditch pitch. Fred and I selling Puking Pastilles on the grounds. Fred and I selling Extendable Ears near the greenhouses. Fred and George everywhere he looked. It wasn't just George, it was Fred and George, it had to be Fred and George. Anything else would have been wrong. Terribly wrong.

George sighed deeply and moved faster. It was Slughorn's office he was approaching but he did consider it as Snape's. It has always been Snape's when he and Fred had been students at Hogwarts.

George opened the old wooden door and slipped through it. Various ingredients were lying on the floor it was obvious that someone had been fighting down here. Had they died too?

Picking up various ingredients and throwing them away he made his way towards a little wooden cupboard. The door was still shut and had heavy damage from the fight.

"Alohomora," whispered George, the lock clicked and the door swung open. In it were around ten phials, all looking as if they might be pretty dangerous if drunk. When George reached out for one its contents began to glow a deep red. George smiled. How funny, it almost had turned into the famous Weasley red, George thought.

Looking at the dirty little bottle, he saw a skull drawn on it. Exactly what I need, George thought, soon I'll be with you, Fred. Oh Fred! The two last words escaped his mouth in a whisper.

Standing up he put the little phial into his pocket and turned around. A part of him hoped that someone would be there to talk to him, maybe about … Fred. It would help him, probably.

But nobody was there, so George made his way back upstairs, through the corridors, towards the entrance hall, towards the greenhouses and finally, through the gates, memories of Fred always in his mind.

He apparated back to the burrow, a tight grip on the little bottle filled with poison. It felt rather nice and comforting in his hand, the key to happiness, George thought.

When he tiptoed into his room, he felt a little awkward. He was behaving like he was up to something forbidden. Well, he thought, it isn't exactly appreciated to kill oneself, is it?

He took the letter he had written earlier, stove it into an envelope and scribbled on it: I'm at his grave… George

Georges hand trembled pretty badly when he wrote the word 'grave', but he kept on writing.

When he had finished, he searched left the room to search for some sellotape and taped the envelope onto the door. He opened the door again and entered the room for the last time. He tried to imagine that Fred was by his side, but it didn't work that well because the phial in his pocket reminded him too well where his brother really was. George dug a hand into his pocket and grabbed the old photograph he found earlier. First he sat down on his bed, but stood up again and lay down on his brother's bed.

He thought very hard of Fred's smell and was convinced he did smell something that was at least very similar to it. George smiled and when he looked at the photo he felt his smile growing wider. It was good to see Fred again, even though it was just a photo. The thought hurt George and he felt tears burning in his eyes. Quickly they started falling onto the photograph.

Angrily George wiped them away and got up. This will be the last time I am in this room, he thought and a weird mixture of happiness and grief occurred in his chest.

He took a deep breath and turned around seeing the room one last time wasn't nearly as weird to see his dead twin but it still felt strange. He shook his head, faced the door and stepping out of the room he whispered "Goodbye".

When George shut the door he took one last look at the letter he had taped to the door and then he left. Down the stairs, through the kitchen, into the garden. The garden where so many happy memories once were produced. Memories of Fred and him.

Faster and faster he approached the little fence, waving a last goodbye to the house he had lived in, the garden he had chased so many gnomes in and of course where he had experienced so much. He was leaving for good.

When he reached the apparation point he thought of Fred's grave, imagining his name written next to his brother's. Relief flooded his chest. It felt good to be on the way to his twin.

With a flick of his wand, George was gone.

When he arrived at the cemetery, he tried not to think of all the times he and Fred had apparated just to annoy Ron or their mother. All the tiny memories of everyday life hurt a lot. George turned around to face his brother's grave. Soon he would be lying next to him, as cold and dead as him but truly happy, finally. He smiled and reached into his pocket where he found the poison. It felt as comforting in his hand as it had before.

He uncorked it and kneeled down.

"Fred, I'll be with you any second. It won't be long before we see each other again." George whispered, facing the stone on which Fred's name was written. He was sure he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, telling him he'd be there.

George took a deep breath. "To you, Fred. My best friend, my brother, my other half, my soul. To us!" he said in a steady voice.

He lifted the phial and drank.

The next thing he knew was that he was lying at the ground, probably next to his brother. He felt the world growing cold and everything became darker and darker, he felt death approaching but he wasn't scared, he could tell Fred was waiting for him. He was happy.

Suddenly he saw Fred's silhouette coming closer. George smiled and Fred smiled back.

"I have missed you, George" he heard his brother say sadly.

"Oh Fred, I have missed you too", was the last thing he thought.

Then he felt his brother embracing him tightly and he responded happily.

Finally Fred and George Weasley were together again, all was well.

The next morning was cold and fog hung between the graves at the little cemetery near Ottery St. Catchpole. The cemetery was empty, seeming totally normal. Nobody was there, nobody alive.

The grave of Fred Weasley, however, wasn't left alone. A red headed figure was lying next to it, pale but smiling, clutching an old photograph to his chest, looking deeply asleep.

Everything was perfectly peaceful. Exactly how it should have been.

THE END

Thanks for reading... and remember, it's my first story, so I know you really WANT to do me a favour and write a rewiev! =) so, thanks for doing so... :D