RP: An Alternative Remembrance Date: May 2, 1999 Characters: George Weasley, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley (?) Location: Wizard Cemetery near Ottery St. Catchpole to start, then elsewhere Status: Private Summary: George remembers May 2 in a decidedly non-Ministry approved way. Ron and/or Ginny find him. Completion: InComplete
George had left the flat quite early that morning, with no intention of making an appearance at the official Remembrance Day ceremonies. His mother had owled him earlier in the week, asking him - pleading with him, really - to go and he'd avoided answering. He knew he should go, but there was utterly no effing way he could make himself do it. He'd spent most of the past year doing what he should be doing...but it was mainly for everyone else's peace of mind. He'd reopened the shop, he'd tried to put on a brave face, he'd even made pretenses of still being able to joke around. And he knew that whenever he wasn't around, they were all saying "well, thank Merlin, George is doing better than expected."
This day, this one bloody day he was not going to do what was expected of him. He was going to do what felt right to him and honor Fred how he wanted. When he Disapparated from the flat, there was a bottle of Ogden's Scarlet in one pocket and a special packet of fireworks in the other.
He reappeared on the low hill overlooking the fields that led down to Ottery St. Catchpole, the small village out of sight behind a large stand of trees. The Burrow was not far away, off to his left, and he knew that somewhere in the other direction the Lovegoods', Diggorys', and Fawcetts' homes were nearby. But he turned to face what was behind him, at the end of a long, hard-packed dirt path. Ottery St. Catchpole's Wizard Cemetery.
Only visible to magical eyes, the cemetery sat beneath an old oak tree with wide, spreading branches. George made his way through the wrought iron gate in the fence and towards the back, where the Weasleys had their plot. He approached it slowly, sitting finally opposite Fred's headstone and pulling out the Firewhiskey. He looked at the somber stone, which didn't remind him of Fred at all, pulled the stopper out of the Firewhiskey, and took a pull right from the bottle. "I miss you Fred, Merlin...I can't even begin to say how much." His eyes prickled, but he blinked them clear. "I wish you could be here to...I just wish you were here."
He didn't know how long he sat there, and didn't keep track of how much of the bottle he drank. He simply let his thoughts and memories chase themselves round and round in his mind, and he found the irrational anger that he sometimes felt when he thought of his twin rearing its ugly head. "This isn't fucking fair Fred. Not one bit...and y'know, sometimes I think I hate you for this."
His stomach started to roil, as he'd likely passed his limit on the alcohol quite a bit earlier. Suddenly he couldn't stand being there even a moment longer and, leaving the bottle behind, he stumbled back through the headstones and out the gate. When he'd gotten a short distance away, he couldn't stand it any longer and heaved the contents of his stomach against the base of a nearby tree. Vanishing the sick and sending a shaky cleaning charm over his clothes, he looked back at the cemetery and mumbled an apology, though even as he did it, another part of his brain wondered why - Fred certainly wouldn't hear it.
He started walking, eventually making it to the Burrow's backyard, knowing that everyone would be at the official ceremonies. He sat beneath one of the trees at the edge of the garden, suddenly overcome with sobs. He cried until he was completely exhausted, and fell asleep right there propped against the tree.