Fred Weasley lurked by his twin brother. His silent, vitreous, phantasmal form looming over George, who sat alone in the room they had once shared. He sighed, taking in an unnecessary breath of air that his nonfunctional lungs no longer needed. He watched sadly as his brother’s body shook with sobs as he looked at a picture of the two of them. He glided over to take a look at the photo in the frame.
The photo was an old one, from many years previously. The boys were standing out in the back yard of the Burrow. They looked to be about six years old, their hair as red then as it was now. The photo looked spontaneous, with the boys causing trouble. Fred had the hose and was chasing the older boys Percy, Bill, and Charlie around the yard. They were all in their swim trunks. Ron was about four in the picture and was eating a piece of grass, while Ginny, age 3, played in the mud.
Fred smiled a sad smile remembering that day well, back before any conflicts split the family. A translucent tear ran down his cheek and rolled off his jaw-line, spiraling to George’s shoulder where it disappeared. He hated seeing George like this because of him, so he turned and coasted from his old room. He headed down to the living room, not filled of life anymore. He sighed, seeing his parents huddled together on the couch, Molly crying into Arthur’s chest.
He couldn’t take his mother’s sobs either so he floated into the kitchen. It was surprisingly empty, which was a rarity of the Weasley household. He sighed and glanced out the window, but the yard he saw was too full of childhood memories with George to stare at for too long. His eyes closed. He hated this. He loved being at home, but with all his grieving family it made it almost too hard to bear. His eyes opened, hearing hushed conversation as Ron and Hermione entered the kitchen.
“Ron none of this is your fault, love” Hermione said placing a hand on his arm as she met his eyes with a look of pure love. It made Fred’s insides twist. No one will ever look at me like that… He thought morosely.
“Mione…” Ron started to protest but decided not to, reaching up and placing his hand on her cheek and rubbing his thumb against her soft skin warmheartedly. “I’m just glad it wasn’t you… I mean I hate that it was Fred and I love him but I don’t think I could go on without you.” Hermione blushed and Fred couldn’t help think about how color would never rise to his cheeks. But then again, I never blushed much anyways… He thought.
He sighed, getting, once again, chased out of his temporary safe haven by Ron and Hermione’s snogging. He glided into Ginny’s room, to check up on his little sister. She had taken it the hardest, barely leaving her room, seldom eating, and not talking to anyone. Instead, she occupied her time lying mournfully on her bed, crying into the stuffed hippogriff Fred had given her for her fourth birthday. These days, she never let it out of her sight, incrediblely similar to how she had been when she was young.
Fred sighed and sat on her bed, hovering slightly above the bed. He cautiously reached out and put his hand just above her back, rubbing it in circular motions, almost able to touch her. Ginny shivered and pulled up her comforter up to her chin. Fred sat there for quite some time. He thought about what could be if he had walked into the dazzlingly bright light he had seen after Bellatrix had ended his life. He had hesitated, wanting to be with his family, not wanting to leave George’s side. But it had gone almost as quick as it had come. And now here he was. He was stuck as a phantasmal form in a human world. He was untouchable matter in a world of tangible human flesh. In short, he didn’t belong. He was an outsider in a world he had lived in all his life. He was a captive and because of that he couldn’t move on. That light at the end of the tunnel, well Fred just couldn’t get there.