The Dark Mark (The Girl Who Lived part II)

Fred's Ending: With Us In Spirit

This is the earliest of the endings I wrote and also one of my favorite. I hope you like it too -Chopinssonata

It had been an unusually calm day at Weasley's Wizardly Wheezes. I swept the floor as any muggle would do, instead of casting a spell that could take as quick as a wave of a finger. This way, it took longer. It kept me from thinking too much. About the memories. Though they were mostly good, there was a sadness brought to each of those memories. Each for a specific reason. But beyond those reasons was an underlying one. Never again would I ever experience those same events again. Of all things, the most I think about are the little things. Those small, seemingly insignificant details. People say, that even when our loved ones move on, they're always with us. In spirit, that is. But I've never believed that saying. Because if Fred were with us in spirit, I wouldn't be feeling this way. Hurting this much.

The door chimed, signaling that someone had entered the shop. "Welcome to Weasley's Wizardly Wheezes! How may I help-" I had set aside my broom in a tiny corner of the room which happened to be the only space in the store that had not been occupied with some sort of wizardly object and had straightened my magenta robe, my uniform, when I had said this. "Good to see that you're hard at work, dear Scarlet. Isn't that right-" George had turned to where his counterpart no longer stood. He had gone out on his much deserved hour break to do whatever he pleased. "We need to clean the storage room. Would you rather help customers, or work in the storage room?" "I'll take the storage room". Business had been unusually slow today, so I didn't feel the need to worry about George over exerting himself. Since Fred died, George has put his blood sweat, and tears to keep this business afloat. He's like a captain on a boat, who refuses to abandon ship, and would rather go down with the ship. He isn't quite the same person I used to know. It's been a long time since I've seen him have that mischievous expression of his. He'll give me one once in a while, but it's not quite the same. The glint in his eye, which signified that he had a plan, was replaced with a look of emptiness. His smile seemed as though he had already used up all his laughter within his lifetime. He was no longer the twin who tricked me into doing his chores, or being his guinea pig. But he pretended he was, just as I had done the same to him. I passed all of the gadgets and doodads that they had sold here.

Each one was like a charm on a bracelet or an ornament on a christmas tree. They all had their individual stories. Even with all these happy memories that surrounded me, I couldn't help but only feel overwhelmed with sadness. I opened the door to the storage room, hidden behind rows and rows of merchandise. Down the stairs, I crept. Every stair creaked when even the slightest amount of pressure was on it. I flicked on the light when I had reached the bottom of the staircase. Neither George, nor I had been down here in quite a while. This wasn't a storage so much for the shop, but more for things. Fred's things. We had both known we needed to do something about the dust covered room, but neither of us could bear going through anything down here. There were shelves and shelves of boxes. But in the back rightmost corner, lay a table covered in dust. Blowing a layer of dust from off the top of the table, I could now see what poor condition the table had been left in. It had been chipped in several places, along with burnt, and painted. I remember the long nights we would spend down here. Working on inventions. Several of which had remained unfinished. I ran my fingers along the once smooth surface until I felt something carved into the table. I was so sure that everything that happened to this table had happened accidentally. I grabbed a container of wipes and my feather duster I had placed on one of the shelves.

Scrubbing the carving with desperation, the letters and shapes finally became clear. The words every little girl dreams of seeing written down, was etched inside of a heart with an arrow pierced through it. "Fred and Scarlet Weasley forever". Well, maybe not all girls dream of seeing "Fred and Scarlet Weasley", but they dream about seeing their name written paired with someone they love. I smiled. It was a sort of bittersweet smile. I began with grabbing a box off one of the shelves, placing it on the wooden table. I sighed as I opened up the box to find several unfinished projects I'd seen Fred be working on late at night. I unpacked each belonging with care. Most of them were products he and George had tried to make to sell at the shop. One whoopee cushion that they had used to both embarrass Ron and make a profit off clothes pins. I came across several pictures of us. Since the beginning when I moved into the Weasley house. There were several pictures of the Weasley family, our Christmases spent at Hogwarts, the yule ball, Hogsmeade trips, and all of the results of their failed attempts to create a new potion. At the bottom of the box, lay a leather bound book with a small velvet black box attatched. I opened the book carefully not to crease any of the pages. 'I don't remember this. What would it be?' I thought. Sure enough, the first page answered my question.