Objects in the Rear View Mirror...

We were closer than any brothers that you ever knew

It was always summer and the future called

We were ready for adventures and we wanted them all

There was so much left to dream

And so much time to make it real

But I can still recall the sting of all the tears when he was gone

They said he crashed and burned

I guess I'll never learn why any boy should die so young

We were racing - we were soldiers of fortune

We got in trouble but we sure got around

There are times I think I see him peeling out of the dark

I think he's right behind me now and he's gaining ground...

But it was long ago and it was far away

Oh God it seems so very far

And if life is just a highway - then the soul is just a car

And objects in the rearview mirror

They appear closer than they are.

**********

"The usual, Mr. Weasley?" I just nod as the bartender places the pint infront of me. McCourt's is one of the few places in Southern Los Angeles that serves a decent pint. Probably on account that the owner, Scott McCourt, hails straight from Glasgow. But that's beside the point. Tonight is going to be a little more than the one or two pints I have while marking my students creative writing...what life is like after my sibling died.

"Most of my friends think that my family consists of me, my Mom, and my Dad. What they don't know about is my twin brother Kenny, who died when we were ten..."

What a bland piece of writing. The kid has lost a twin, big deal. He writes as though Kenny was nothing more than a pet cat. That's the problem with only children tackling an assignment about the loss of a sibling. My story, however, is more moving.

**********

Oi! Angelina! Want to come to the ball with me?

He always was the more confident one. That incident with the Yule Ball back in Sixth Year...that was fun. Trying to get money out of Bagman, however...but that doesn't matter now. Once Harry gave us his prize money, we worked hard. We stashed it in a high interest vault in Gringotts, and really worked at our schoolwork the next year. We each got the same amount of N.E.W.T.s as Percy; Mum nearly had a aneurysm from the shock. Then, we were off.

We know we're called Gred and Forge.

I said that once. And we were. So close we shared names, so close not even our own family could tell us apart. In actual fact, the only difference between us was the Fred was slightly taller, however you only noticed if we were standing right next to each other, or lying down with each other...some of the nights we shared together we magical. Literally. To see the exact copy of yourself reacting to every little move you make...it's one of the most erotic things in the world. Like looking into a warm, wet, moving mirror. We shared all, even lovers. I remember when little Harry came to us, wanting to know how to please a guy...no idea how he knew we were bi, he just did. Those were some fun nights...I wonder how he and Draco are doing? Without their money and support, we would never have gotten as far as we did.

To us.

The joke shop was a huge success...almost overnight, Weasley's Wizards Wheezes was one of the hottest new shops in America. We moved there after the war, because of some stupid copyright that Zonko's had on joke shops in Great Britain. The Americans had a different sense of humor than us British...wasn't too hard to make them laugh. So we became rich...what to do with all the money was our dilemma. Of course, we sent some of it home. Ron and Ginny were both headed for Wizard University, and The Burrow badly needed repairs. But what to do with the rest of it? We certainly didn't gamble it...I suppose that it was obvious that we got into cars.

Put your foot down, Fred!

Ah, our first hand in the war effort. Yes, yes, we were there in the final battle...managed to take out quite a few Death Eaters ourselves, though we just Petrified Pettigrew for Ickle Ronnikins. The copies of the Marauder's Map that we created were useful tools...and setting booby traps was just neat. We always told our mother that pulling pranks would come in useful.

Mischief managed!

So there we were, two young twenty-somethings, ready to take on the world of American Wizarding Millionaires. And cars it turned out to be, mainly Muggle ones. We had bought a pair of twin Ford Anglias, and then got into racing...Fred was racing our Ferrari 360 Spider against a few other rich playboys like ourselves - too much money, too much time. He was always better in the Ferrari's than I was. I preferred our Porsche 911 Turbo.

**They said he crashed and burned...**

Why must that incessant song play today? When I have to grade these stupid, plastic stories, written by brats that can't even spell Mum properly...when it is the 30^th anniversary of Fred's death?

The mechanics had no idea what went wrong. The car simply flipped, and rolled, and rolled, and rolled...somehow it managed to flip over the 10-foot high fence, and down the cliff. The flames were as red as the Ferrari itself. And I was left alone.

**We got in trouble but we sure got around...**

We were the infamous pranksters of Hogwarts. None could match us. And, inspite of our reputations as jokers, we racked up a nice collection of titles, awards, and lovers...the Playboy Pranksters, that was us. No, not in that way. We stayed out of the nudie magazines, except for the gossip columns. Mum was always proud of that fact, inspite of the billions of Galleons Playwitch offered for even a small thumbnail photograph.

**I think he's right behind me now and he's gaining ground...**

I do still see him, sometimes. When I was younger I used to see him in the mirror, everyday. But I aged, and the photos of him didn't. But whenever I see a red Ferrari...I stop and check, just to make sure my Fred hasn't come back to me. Hasn't come back to be Gred and Forge again. And sometimes when I'm overwhelmed by the loneliness, I can hear his voice, telling me not to cry...and I can see him at the back of my classroom at the private boys' school where I teach. Making faces, rude gestures, trying to make me laugh again. But no matter what he does, what my students do, I don't smile or laugh. I'm not a glum person. I'm rather eccentric and happy, if I may say so myself. But I don't smile. And I don't laugh. Because those things belonged to Gred and Forge...and I'm just George. Not Gred, not Forge. Just George, the leftover twin.

*********

Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are

Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are

Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are...