Twenty-nine-year-old Dr. John H. Watson, thin and nervous, stepped off the ship in Portsmouth. He had returned from Maiwand when a thousand had not. Other men embraced kith and kin who greeted them at the dock. Other men kissed the ground and rowdily struck off together in search of drinks and women. John struggled with his bag and found the railway ticket office. One for the first train to London.
There are a few things in life so beautiful they hurt. An empty train station at night is one of them. I enjoy the atmosphere of solitude while being suspended between two places. For this moment, I know where I am going.
On a bleak wintry day, a cyclist journeying through Saddleworth Moor made an unusual discovery. Down the embankment lay the corpse of a man who looked like he could be asleep. “At first, I thought he might have been lying down enjoying the view.” His eyes were open and his arms were lying across his chest in a relaxed manner. However, it was the cold weather and torrential rain that struck Stuart Crowther as unusual. It wasn’t until he got closer, that he realised that the man was dead.
Pathologists who worked on the case have taken to calling him “Neil Dovestone” after the name of the reservoir on Saddleworth Moor near to where he was found. He had no personal possessions on his body when he was found, apart from £130 in his pocket. This suggests that, if he committed suicide, he didn't want anybody knowing his identity. He has certainly succeeded in that, as nobody can work out where he came from, or who he is. It has been determined that Neil caught a train from London to Manchester and then travelled to the Moors from there. The last person who spoke to him was the landlord of a local pub. Neil had asked him for directions to the top of the mountain: “I told him there’s not enough daylight for him to get there and back today. He just thanked me and asked me again for the directions, which I repeated to him. And he just set off.” 21 hours later, his body was found. But why did he travel 200 miles to die in this particular spot?
Recently, high traces of Strychnine (A pretty rare poison) have been found in his body following a third autopsy. Police had previously found a bottle of this substance by his body, so they traced the batch. It was made in Pakistan, as it’s no longer legal in the UK. Now this is where it gets interesting: Neil also had a plate fitted in his leg, probably following an injury. The plate was manufactured and fitted in Pakistan. It seemed unusual that he would have connections to the country, but he had evidently travelled there to have the operation. Someone suggested that he had lived there and had travelled over to the UK, but demographically, this is highly unlikely as Neil was a Caucasian man in his mid-sixties to early seventies:
Police have been appealing for information since December, but have no strong leads. Those desperate to solve the case live in hope that even people who wish never to be found will always leave clues behind. But for now, all the answers stay hidden with the body called Neil Dovestone, still lying in the Oldham hospital morgue.
The day is April 23rd, 2017. It’s an ordinary Sunday afternoon in London.
The crowd bustles, trains whirr, birds chirp.
Life in the city is business as usual.
Three teenage girls take photographs outside 187 North Gower Street, soaking in the ambiance of the Sherlock set. They step into Speedy’s for a cup of coffee.
The women lament over the loss of their favorite show. On March 8th, the BBC announced Sherlock would not be returning for a fifth series, and cowriters Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss were quick to assure their fans that it was time to lay the beloved program to rest.
But what the women saw next changed their lives forever.
Moving on After Fred Weasley Passes Away - Headcanon/Would Include
Warnings: This broke my heart to write):
You wouldn’t cry much towards the beginning. Of course when the news hit a barricade of tears fell freely but after that, you learned how to bottle it all up. Everything was so unreal you weren’t even sure if it what was real anymore.
Fred was your best friend, your other half, the love of your life.
After the Battle of Hogwarts you’d travel back to the Burrow with the Weasley’s.
He was buried shortly after the Battle. His casket was a sleek black color and shined in the rain that fell. You placed a flower on the top of his casket and choked on a shaky sob. George stood behind you and his hand found it’s way into yours, giving you a squeeze of reassurance as he cried with you. You had never felt more lost in your life. Your fingers twiddled with the diamond band wrapped around your finger. It felt more like a piece of mockery, there to remind you everyday of what you could now never have.
Molly spent an entire week in the twins’ bedroom. She didn’t talk, hardly ate, just stared blankly at the wall next to Fred’s bed. He had pictures of his Hogwarts adventures taped to the wall and she had memorized every prospect of the photos so much she couldn’t rid the image from her brain when she closed her eyes, but she didn’t want to forget.
At the end of the week George entered his and Fred’s bedroom for the first time since the Battle. He spent an hour talking to his mother. You never did find out what he said, but you remember the burning visual of Molly exiting the room with reddened eyes full of heartbreak.
Ginny spent the nights sleeping in her room with you and cuddled against your chest, silently weeping to herself. Your presence made her feel close to her late brother, like he had never actually left.
George, Molly, and you would clean out Fred’s half of the room. It was full of tears and once happy now sad memories. Like the large maroon tie blanket you had made for Fred on your anniversary. Or the book on Magical Creatures that Fred had stolen on accident in Diagon Alley while he spied on you from behind a bookcase. You were shopping for all your school supplies and the redhead had torn from his family, catching glimpse of you in the robes shop and managed to follow you two stores later not wanting to leave you. You eventually caught him as he tripped over a pile of books, the binds of knowledge cascading to the floor with a crash. You smiled and helped him up while introducing yourself. The rest was history.
Arthur stood in the doorway of the room watching the three of you clean. Deep aging wrinkles indented his forehead making him appear older than he really was. His face was long, drowning in sorrow. He didn’t say a word, just watched.
Ginny cried alone in her room. Harry tried to comfort her but his success was no avail. She locked herself away for three days, lost in a sea of depression.
Ron turned to Harry and Hermione who welcomed him with open arms. He was the first to open up after his older brother’s death.
You stayed at the Burrow for a almost three weeks before flying to France. You choice was rash but you needed to get away. Molly understood and wished you well. You didn’t know how long you would be gone but you hoped it would give you some time to come to terms with the heartbreak you were experiencing.
Fred used to tell you when you were in school together that he always dreamed of going to France. He never knew why. He was rubbish at speaking French and had no idea how he’d survive, but it was a dream of his.
Percy, Bill, and Charlie all stayed at the Burrow for a month or so. Their hearts ached at the lose of their younger brother.
George… George no longer felt like himself. It was as if a part of himself was missing, torn from his soul. He dragged through the day’s, closing down the shop for a while. After spending two weeks at the Burrow he moved back to the apartment above Weasley Wizard Wheezes that Fred and him shared. The second he walked through the door he broke down. Tears splashed against his cheeks as he finally let all his emotions pour out. He called you, practically begging you to keep him company.
Of course you obliged and flew back home immediately. You lived with Fred in the apartment too. It was your home as well and you had been putting off going back to the apartment as much as possible. The home held so many items from your past involving Fred and you. Where he proposed to you, where you had you first blow up fight, where you had you first time together, where you had the million of talks about your future together, and so much more.
This made Molly feel a little better when she heard you would be staying with George for a while. She hated the thought of George being all along right after losing his best friend, his twin, his other half.
You left France still clutching a box full of Fred’s belonging. A heavy feeling invaded your heart. You took a train to London after landing then joined George at the shop.
The minute the door swung open George’s arms were thrown around your frame as he pulled you into a tight embrace. The barrier you had been working so hard to uphold, crumbled at his touch. Not because you felt you could finally let go of all the emotions being kept inside. No, you cried because George’s embrace reminded you of Fred’s. The way his hold tighten as you sobbed mirrored Fred’s actions identically. Your chest ached as you came to realize you future with Fred was gone. George’s salty tears splashed on the crown of your head.
The first week barely any words at all were exchanged. You would mumble a small ‘good morning’ to each other during breakfast but that was usually it.
George spent the days in his room and the nights at a bar across the street. This continued on for a week until you confronted him. You waited up all night, worried sick. He stumbled in around three in the morning, eyes brimming red, breath stenching strong from alcohol.
“George Weasley, what the hell?” You would screeched. His eyes snapped up at you resembling a deer caught in headlights. His gazed quickly fell to the floor as he shut the house door and brushed past you. You yelled after him making him halt in his path,
“George pease just talk to me! I know this is hard for you, believe me I do. He was your brother. You two have never been apart so I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. George I’m here for you and you can talk to me because I lost him too. You did everything with Fred, you two started this business together and we both know he just wants you to be happy again. Please… just try, George. Try for me, try for Fred. Please. I just want to be here for you. If there’s something I did. If you hate me-” Your voice broke at the end and your knees gave up. Crashing to the floor a echoing cry invaded the air. George stood motionless watching you fall apart before his eyes. He could almost hear Fred scolding him and urging him to act. Fred would want George to comfort you, Fred would want you two to be there for each other.
George hesitantly crossed the room and bent to your level. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of messy hair from your face. Glancing up at him you started in to question him but George beat you around the bush. He seemed half sobered up and shook his head.
“Y/n… it’s not you, I swear. You’re the most purest human being in the entirety of the world, please don’t think that way. Every moment you and Fred were together I could never shake that from my mind, how perfect you are. But god Y/n every time I see you I think of my brother. He loved you more than anything in this world and I know he would hate me right now for not being there for you. I feel like I’ve let him down and that hurts more than anything. I see Fred everytime I look in the mirror, everytime I see the pictures on the fridge, everytime I walk into the shop, everytime I come home and everytime I see you.”
His words took you by storm but for once, it made sense. You had been sleeping in Fred and your bed, helping start the shop back up (mainly by yourself), and it probably didn’t help that you had been stealing items of Fred’s clothing, just wanting to be close to him again. For the first time since the Battle, you admitted the burden you’d been holding inside.
“I wish I could’ve saved him. If I wasn’t distracted by the helping that student- if I would have been paying more attention to Fred… he’d still be here.” You quivered. George’s eye soften and he shook his head.
“Y/n you know no one could’ve stopped what happen. I’ve spent every night laying awake wondering if I could’ve changed something. I’m not sure what god planned this, or if there even is one, but Y/n we had no control over this.” His arms locked around you pulling you against his chest. His lips planted against your forehead sweetly covering you in a blanket of comfort.
You spent the rest of the night in George’s arm. You shared memories of Fred, some sweet, some funny, and some that made you cry again.
“Remember the time the two of you enchanted endless snowballs to pelt, well technically, Voldemort in the face and Quill in the back of the head?” You giggled into the glass of cherry red wine you held to your lips. George leaned into the cushion of the couch and shook his head with a smile.
George spent the night in Fred and your bed- to keep you company of course.
He kept you company for the rest of the nights to follow
The two of you began to drift into a weird zone
You had always lightly fancied George but it was Fred you loved.
He would randomly start bringing you home flowers and other small gifts
Some days George would come home to find a bundled up new sweater placed on his work desk. You always claimed the things you bought him were on sale so you just couldn’t resist but George knew better
A strong connection was growing and it confused you- George too. You wanted another shot at happiness but you weren’t sure if you were ready yet until another vacant Friday night rolled around and you found yourself laying on the couch in George’s arm talking about the week and before you knew it he was leaning forward.
The first time you kissed George you screwed your eyes shut tightly and imagined his lips as Fred’s. You knew it was horrible but you had no clue what else to do. It was like you were cheating on your fiance- your dead fiance, with his twin brother. But when you realized it was George, you didn’t entirely hate it. It was actually quite a fulfilling kiss. A part from inside of you warmed up for the first time in a long time.
George had a sickening vibe settling in the pit of his stomach after he pulled back. His heart sped up at the newfound affection the kiss brought although kissing you made him feel like he was betraying his brother. Fred planned to marry you for Merlin’s sake and there George was, making out with his dead twin’s girlfriend.
But you kissed him again the next day and he didn’t pull away
And the next
And the one after that too
Kissing you made George think of his brother. Fred loved you and George could understand why. Kissing you, sleeping beside you, comforting you, it all made George feel as if he was somehow growing closer to his twin.
At first your relationship with George was based solely on the fact that he was identical to your late lover but as time passed on George made you feel differently than Fred did. Despite you never thinking it was possible, George taught you how to laugh again. He would slowly crack back into his prankster self again. It took his almost a full year after Fred’s passing to invent a new product for the shop or even enter the store for more than passing to get to the apartment. He tested out the product on you during breakfast one morning. Pouring a lilac solution into the base of your black coffee and giving it a swirl, George carried on with breakfast as if nothing had happen. Dragging in, you hugged George from behind before taking a seat at the nook. You instantly sipped on the brewed mixture in front of you and spit it out in shock as the odd flavor set in.
George howled in laughed and bent over the kitchen stove pointing towards you. Furrowing your eyebrows you set the mug down and spoke up agitated,
“George what the hell did you put in- oh my god!”
You realized the change in tone quickly and covered your face in embarrassment. Your voice was as deep as a well making you sound similar to that of a male that had spent over half his life heavily smoking. George rushed over and planted a kiss to your cheek.
“It worked!” Although you were thoroughly ticked off at his choice of targeting you, you were happy he was back to his old ways. The bills were piling up by the second and the landlord wanted the shop either back up and running, or both of you to move out. Dumping your infected cup of coffee down the sink drain you started to make a new batch. Smiling to yourself you laughed softly,
“Well, I’m glad to have you back, George.”
That was only the beginning. George and you spent almost every moment inventing and creating new sale items. The first handful were absolute rubbish but it didn’t matter. Both of you were trying to get back in the swing of things and sometimes that took a while.
Within three months Weasley Wizard Wheezes was back up and running again.
Sales flooded in and shot straight through the roof steadily for a long term.
As a ‘thank you’ present for helping him get back on his feet George invited you out for a fancy meal out on the town.
You decided on a Muggle restaurant and dressed to the nines. George’s jaw skimmed the floor when you walked out of your room and slipped on your heels. He held your hand and escorted you out.
During dinner you had ntoiced how fidgety and nervous George was acting. You made the choice to question him on it over a glass of champagne right before the main course and he physically stiffened. Tilting his glass back, George chugged down the large intake and wiped his lips on the red amber napkin. His hands clasped together then unclasped at his side. His soft eyes found yours and he darted them back down to the tablecloth.
“It’s just- well, Y/n… what are we?”
It would get silent very fast and he would instantly fill it.
“What I mean is, I like you… I like you a lot but I know how you felt about my brother. I saw the glint in your eyes that would sparkle whenever you saw him and how happy you two were together and Y/n I want to be able to make you as happy as Fred did. With that being said I don’t want you to be with me because I remind you of him or because you can’t stop thinking about Fred. I’m not gonna lie at the start of our, uh, relationship I was hanging out with you because you made me think of Fred but all those late nights and million cups of coffee have made me realize the truth. I love you Y/n- and not because you dated my brother. I love you for you and I think I have for a very long time. What I’m asking is… Y/n would you um, like to be my girlfriend?”
You cried, a lot. George’s heart broke at the sight only confirming the love swelling in his heart. His feelings were genuine and it warmed your soul. You lunged across the table knocking over the bread bowl in the process and threw your arms around George’s frame.
“Of course I will! Oh my god, George. You’re making me cry like a bloody fool!”
George called his mother the second you got home. Molly was hit with a wave of shock at first. She gave both of you long speeches trying to inspect if the love was real or a mask to feign the hurt of bonding over the lose of Fred. She demanded both of you come home to the Burrow for the week so you did and the moment she looked into both of your eyes, it was clear as crystal.
“Good lord you are in love!”
It was hard for the rest of the Weasley family to accept at first. You understood completely since you had the same weary, unsure feeling as well but eventually they came to accept it. They were all happy to you and George happy once again.
But as happy as you were, small memories with Fred would constantly pop up.
Like one night when George and you were lying in bed together whispering softly realization would settle in and you’d comment,
“This is where he proposed. We were lying right here when Fred asked me to marry him.”
You knew how horrid it was to put this on George but you had no control. George thought about this all the time and was reminded of your relationship with his brother at every corner he turned.
You would then apologize feeling god awful for saying such a thing but George would hush you saying,
“It’s alright Y/n. Just because he’s not around anymore and because we’re together now doesn’t mean we have to pretend he was never alive or your relationship with him didn’t exist. He loved you, and I know how much you love him. I’m not upset- actually I’m more than thankful my brother managed to snag a girl like you. You two were perfect together and he will always love you just like how you will always love him. Fred… he is… was my brother and for a long time I thought he would hate me for me being with you and for a long time I thought my heart tricked me into loving you. That maybe it wasn’t love I was feeling but rather so the relationship my brother and I had and maybe because he loved you so much, being with you would make me feel less lonely about losing him but I know the truth. I love you, Y/n. Hell, maybe I always have but the important thing is I love you now and I will love you tomorrow and I will continue to love you years from now and that’s not because of Fred, it’s because of you and who you are. I love you.”
You two learned how to live your life no longer feeling guilty for the love you shared. Fred smiled down his heart warming at seeing his two favorite people in the world relying on each other and sharing a piece of their heart together.
He proposed to you in the middle of a busy work day right as you were restocking a shelf. The rest of his family were there to see. Molly, Hermione and Ginny cried a river while the boys patted George on the back. On your wedding day the tears were never ending, though happy ones.
You two eventually moved to London- kept the shop but decided you needed more room, well of course your growing stomach demanded that. One cold night in the middle of December George and you were blessed with the birth of your first son, Fred ll. He had a head of wicked red hair and a small mischievous smile toying on his face and you had never felt more complete in your life. George planted a kiss to your head muttering a string of ‘thank yous’. You knew in your heart this was exactly where you were meant to be.