The Last Time by caomoyl

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The whizzes and buzzes sounded so familiar to George's ears. He remembered them so distinctly from when he was younger, even though he hadn't been there in years. The thoughts of the past brought back so much and his heart filled with both sorrow and joy at the memories. 

His head filled with questions. Why was he here? How did he get here? More importantly, why was he laid on the floor?

He opened his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position which was easier to do than he had expected. He looked down at his hands and realised that he once again had the hands of a young man, rather than the wrinkle covered ones he had as an old man. Lifting his eyes from himself, he looked around.

He was in his shop; the shop that he and Fred had built from nothing with the money Harry had given then so many years ago. The place was empty, but it sounded just like it did before they opened the doors each morning after they set everything going. 

He could see the shelves piled high with all of the products they had sold when they first opened. It was as if he had gone back in time to a few days before the opening when they tested out the atmosphere of the shop without anyone there to make sure it felt ‘fun' enough.

George hadn't been in the shop since the war. He couldn't face coming back alone to the place he had built up with his twin. He had bought a flat with Ron who was helping him with the shop, until Ron moved out to live with Hermione. George had never stopped inventing, though. He made sure the shop got new products as often as possible. He knew Fred would come back to life and kick his butt if he let the shop get boring.

George stood up. The last thing he could remember was falling asleep in his bed, aged 84, with his wife beside him. There were only three possible explanations; he was dead, he had dreamt his whole life or he was currently dreaming. Hoping for the third, he pinched himself.


He was sure it wasn't the second because his life had felt so real and he could remember it all so vividly. So there was only one possible explanation left; he was dead. A spark hit his brain and spread to his heart with a longing for it to be true. He span around to face the counter behind which his brother had always stood and a smile lit up his entire face.

"Hi," Fred said. "Long time no see."

George rushed over to hug his brother. "It's been far too long." They held onto each other tightly for a while, neither of them wanting to be the one to let go.

"How are you, oh holy one?"

George's smile grew bigger. "Pre-gorgeous." Fred looked confused so George elaborated. "Well I seem to have dropped dead."

The twins laughed, Fred's head shaking at his brother's terrible joke. It was nice to see that his sense of humour hadn't changed in all these years. 

"Come on," Fred said, reaching out his hand to his brother. "It's time to go."

"Go where?" George replied.

Fred just smiled in reply and pulled his brother towards the shop entrance, opening the door and hearing the ring one more time before leaving forever to spend an eternity together.

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