In Loving Memory by tasha95 on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

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Published: Nov 23, 2012

Literature Text

Ginny's Diary
Today's inevitably the 2nd May 1999. A day I'll never forget. A day I'll never be able to erase. A day I want to remember but a day want to overlook. Nevertheless it's the day I never fail to think of everyday. It's the day my beloved brother left. It's the day Teddy was left. Today is the one year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. The thought drags with it connotations of death, hurt and loss and at the same time love, relief and victory. Ok, so Fred didn't leave and Teddy wasn't abandoned, he had his grandmother and I had the rest of my family. But I don't feel complete. I feel like there's something missing. Something is missing. Laughter. Fred and George were, in simple words 'the life of our family'. As a duo they made our lives infinitely better yet unbearable. That's what I loved about them, as one. Now there's just one, a half of them. I would never have been able to imagine a life like this, it's just... It's not life. Ever since that day I wake up every day because I have to in order to survive. But there's no routine, no purpose, well I'm still here because my family needs me, and admittedly I need them. Being together is what's been keeping us going. And by going I mean being able to get up in the morning every day, eating properly everyday and being able to survive till the next dawn. However George was struggling. I could see his health slowly deteriorating. Gradually he was crumbling. The moment he saw Fred, I saw the Life physically drain out of his eyes and his body as he slumped to the ground. My heart went out to him. My throat was wobbly as tears threatened to flood from my eyes. I remember it like it was yesterday. Yesterday was the last time I ate. When was the last time George ate? It was too far back for me to even remember. Every week, every Sunday, I went to see Fred, to speak to him. Nobody came with me, I don't think anyone knew. Everyone went to visit him, when they wanted to but nobody mentioned their visits. Today was a Sunday. Today doesn't change a thing. Today, like every Sunday, I was going to visit Fred.

After having breakfast, I went upstairs and knocked on George's door, which creaked open. "George? Are you in here?" I asked. There was no reply, just silence. Until A gust of wind blew through the open window and shut the door with a loud bang. I was about to close the window when I saw George sat on the roof of the kitchen, just below the window. I very cautiously climbed down and tiptoed my way towards him. When I sat beside him he didn't move a millimetre. Nothing, it's like he wasn't even there as if he was a lifeless statue.
I didn't... well couldn't understand what he was going through after the loss of his twin, but I'd lost something too. We all did. Couldn't he understand that? Didn't he know it wasn't just him hurting, but all of us? We sat there in silence starring at the rising sun. "He loved it out here, he loved this time of day, and he loved life." Those were the first words he'd spoken in a while. It was nice to hear his voice, still working. "I know." It was all I could say, so I gave George a one armed hug and went back into the house, through the window. Before I left his room, I wondered whether he'd been to see Fred, since... since the funeral, I'm sure he would have, but either way I thought It'd be nice if he went with someone. I quickly scribbled a note –'I'm going to see Fred today, in the afternoon, between one and two. If you'd like to join me, please do, it would be nice and I think Fred would like that. So if you want to, you know where I'll be, love Ginny x'.
I went back to my room and changed into a warm woolly blue jumper, which Fred loved to make jokes about and an old tearing coat which was a hand-me-down from Fred. I grabbed the fresh flowers from the vase by my desk and apparated to where Fred lay. I gently placed the flowers in front of his shiny grey tombstone. I sat by his grave re-reading the smoothly engraved letters over and over again- "Here's Lies Fred (Forge) Arthur Gideon Weasley, (1st April 1978 – 2nd May 1998), A treasured Son, Brother, friend and Prankster. ' Finally At Dawn, Mischief Managed." It brought a smile to my face, thinking about how Fred would have certainly laughed if he could read it. But the doubt, the possibility of him not being able to see it brought a tear to my eyes.
I sat, reminiscing about the good times and the bad times and everything in-between. Just talking. Having a one-man conversation with Fred and myself. "Do you remember that time when Mum didn't let me have a go on the broom, when you and George were playing quiddich? When I was 4? Or was it five? Do you remember? When mum went shopping and told Dad to watch us? Dad went into the garage and George called me over and said, 'Come on Ginny quick you can have a go'. So I jumped onto your broom and I said 'won't you come with me?' I wish I could come with you. Sometimes I wish I could. Sometimes I feel like there's nothing for me left. But then I realise, our family and friends need us, that's what gets me through it. But yeah remember when I sat on the broom and didn't know what to do, so you came and sat on the broom with me and said hold tight, I'll look after you, and if you fall I'll catch you I promise. I wish you held tight. I wish I was there watching over you, looking after you. I wish I'd caught you, I wish I'd saved you". I broke down in tears as my body shook. My throat felt constricted and I could speak no more. So I let the tears flow.
I saw a shadow swallow mine and turned to see George stood behind me, with his hand by his side, shoulders slumped and his eyes glistening. I tried to smile at him, I was happy that he came with me to visit Fred, to see him finally registering the truth. I think George was trying to preserve Fred's presence by blocking out the truth, the hard cold fact that his brother, his twin was no more. That he'd never see his brother again in this material world. I scootched up making room for him to sit. He accepted the invite and sat down as he readjusted his scarf. It was cold for May, but that's how it was.

It was something we had to face whether we liked it or not, like the death of a loved one.