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Fred Weasley opened his eyes slowly and blinked to clear his fuzzy vision. There was blue sky above him, and something gold whizzed past far overhead. A frown creased his brow, and he sat up.
He was on a Quidditch pitch, but there were no banners hung on the stands. It was as if the pitch were waiting for a team to move in. The day was bright and sunny, but that couldn’t be right, he’d just been fighting the Death Eaters with Percy only a moment ago, and Percy, bless him, had actually made a joke…
“We could hardly believe it either,” said a cheerful voice behind him.
Fred turned and saw two men walking toward him, two identical young men with sandy blonde hair and his mum’s brown eyes, wearing pristine white robes. He knew these men, and knew he should feel shocked to see them, but he was somehow unsurprised to find them here on the pitch.
“Percy, joking! Can you imagine?” said his other uncle.
“It’s good to finally meet you, Fred.” The man who had spoken first held out a hand to Fred and hoisted him to his feet. Fred glanced down and found he was wearing the same white robes his uncles wore. They looked just like regular wizard robes, except he knew he’d never have been able to keep them clean if they were real, and nor, by all accounts, would Gideon and Fabian Prewett have done.
Fred looked at his uncles and saw himself and his brother reflected in the mischievous glints in their eyes.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Your time’s up, dear nephew,” said one of his uncles jovially. “We’ve come to get you.”
“Right you are, Gideon,” said his other uncle, Fabian, in a cheerful voice. “It’s time to go, Fred.”
"But, the battle..." Fred looked around, but there was no sign of life on the pitch aside from him and his uncles.
"Don't worry, good wins," Gideon said with a grin.
"Of course good wins," Fred said. "Harry always gets away with stuff. But what about George?"
Gideon and Fabian exchanged a glance, and their faces sobered. "It isn't George's time, Fred. Only yours. The rest of the Weasleys will survive this fight."
"It's time to move on, Fred," Gideon said quietly.
Fred felt the first jolt of fear. How could he pass on beyond the veil without George? “But, my brother…”
Fabian tilted his head sympathetically at his nephew. “It’s not fair, is it?” he said quietly. “At least Gideon and I got to go back-to-back. Having to leave behind your twin…”
“We know it’s hard. Believe me, if anyone could know, it’s us. But it’s your time, Fred. It’s not George’s time yet.” Gideon's face was sympathetic, and there was sorrow in his eyes.
Fred was not ready to let go yet. He could not imagine going anywhere, especially beyond, without his twin. They’d never been apart for more than a few minutes in their entire lives. “Is there a way to go back?”
Fabian shook his head. “You can’t go back, Fred. You wouldn’t be here, in this place, if you could go back.”
The flash of gold whirred past again, and this time Fred recognized it as a snitch. His eyes followed the small golden ball as it fluttered around their heads. It was staying awfully close.
His uncles were watching him kindly, and Fabian glanced up at the snitch.
“Go ahead, Fred.”
Fred looked back down at his uncles. “Are you sure I can’t wait for George?”
“You’ll be able to come for him when it’s his time, as we came for you,” Gideon told him. Fred nodded, but he did not feel ready yet.
Gideon and Fabian Prewett were still watching him while the snitch buzzed around them. There should have been birds chirping, on a bright and sunny day like this, but there was only silence, and the almost imperceptible hum of the snitch's wings. Fred stared up at the cloudless sky for a few moments.
“Mum misses you,” he said abruptly, still looking at the sky. “She takes your picture out sometimes and touches your faces. She gave your watch to Harry, Uncle Fabian.”
“I know,” Fabian said mildly. He and Gideon exchanged a glance, and it reminded Fred sharply of himself and his own twin. A pang of loss shot through him; he felt half of himself was missing without George beside him.
“We miss Molly too, but she’s got Arthur to take care of her,” Gideon said. “We always liked him.”
Who would take care of George? Fred was seized with an urge to escape and find his brother, panic rising in his throat. George needed him. He needed George. How could they be apart?
“It’s all right, Fred,” Fabian said quietly. “George won’t be alone. Molly will take care of him, and so will the rest of your family.”
Fred realized he was crying, and wiped the tears from his face.
“George won’t be the same without me,” Fred said thickly. “How can I leave him?”
“No one will be the same without you, Fred,” Gideon told him sombrely. “That’s life, I’m afraid. Molly’s not been the same without us. But she’s gone on, and we’ll be there when it’s her time. George will go on, and you’ll be there for him when it’s his time. The time will go quickly for you, and he’ll find happiness again in life. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”
Fred nodded, feeling reassured. The panic that had threatened to overwhelm him had eased, and he felt a sharp curiosity about moving on. He did not want to leave his brother, but he wanted to see what was next. He rubbed a hand over his face.
“He’ll be all right,” he said, partly to reassure himself and partly for affirmation from his uncles.
“He’ll be fine,” Fabian said. “In a few years he’ll marry Angelina Johnson, and he’ll be happy with her. She’ll take care of him.”
Fred grinned then, his eyes still a little wet with tears. “Angelina? Really? I took her to the Yule Ball, you know, sixth year. I always thought Lee would wear her down eventually.”
Fabian gave Fred a pat on the shoulder. “Come on, Fred, let’s get a move on, then.”
Fred reached up and plucked the snitch from the air. Its delicate wings fluttered against his hand, and he looked up to see his uncles smiling at him.
“He’d bloody well better name his firstborn after me, that’s all I can say,” Fred said.
Gideon clapped a hand on Fred’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said cheerfully. “He will.”
“Come on, Fred, we’ll show you around,” Fabian said. "There're a few people you should meet."
“Yeah, and we’ll tell you what happens next for George,” Gideon added.
Their figures faded slowly as they walked off the pitch, and there was silence on the grounds for a moment, then a faint echo sounded before the pitch began to dissolve as well.
“What kind of a name is Roxanne, then?”