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Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone
By tenorspaz

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Angst, Comedy, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 24
Summary: What happens while Fred is waiting to go to his final reward? He plans the ultimate prank, that’s what! Fred and Peeves liven things up at his memorial service and Fred goes out with a BANG.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3999



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
A/N: This is a little plot bunny that’s been hopping around my head since I finished DH. I guess I’m still in denial over Fred and needed some closure. Big hug and kiss to Spenser Hemmingway for his beta work, finding those pesky grammer issues and plot holes. **THANKS so much for all the Trinket Nominations and votes!! This is so exciting!!**

Credit is due to the movies Betelgeuse, Ghost, and Airplane for some of the silliness.

FYI - Please Don't Talk About Me is a real song that my Sweet Adeline chorus used to sing. Heee!





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Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone

Fred Weasley was bored. More bored than having to listen to Percy lecture about appropriate hallway behavior or even more than enduring a double block of History of Magic. He was alone, sitting on a solitary bench in an extremely clean and bright train station…waiting. Actually, Fred had never been more bored in his entire life. This was indeed ironic because he was, in fact, dead.

Oh yes, he knew he was dead alright. One moment he’d been fighting Death Eaters and laughing at Percy’s joke about the former Minister, and the next, he wasn’t. There was a huge blast and he threw himself on top of Percy. Then, everything went blindingly white and unnaturally quiet.

When he opened his eyes, he seemed to be above floating above everything, looking down at himself, under a pile of rubble. “Bloody hell, THAT can’t be good.” Looking around, he quickly spotted the others. He saw Hermione struggle through the rubble to help Harry as he unearthed himself from the remains of the explosion. He wanted to help, but couldn’t. Fred looked around and saw Percy crying, holding his body and Ron beside him. He watched helplessly as huge spiders erupted from the gaping wound in the wall while Harry and Hermione bravely fought and stunned them.

Finally, Fred watched as Harry and Percy dragged his battered body out of the ruins and stuffed it into a secluded niche, behind an old suit of armor. This made him chuckle. Not because of what they did, but because Fred was no stranger to this particular hidden nook. He’d been there before, with Angelina…several times. He heaved a great sighed and looked wistfully at the tiny corner. He was really going to miss Angelina and their amazing snogging sessions. “I wonder if there’s snogging in heaven…or where ever I’m going?” he mused. “Where the bloody hell is that anyway?” He wished there was some kind instruction manual or at least, someone to tell him what to do.

“Well, where ever it is, I better get a move on, can’t hang around here forever.” He wandered up the corridor and if anyone saw him, they didn’t acknowledge it. The battle of Hogwarts raged on around him, but he was oblivious, lost in his own thoughts. “I wonder if I’m a ghost.” He held up his hand in front of his face. It looked the same as it always did, not silver or misty like the ghosts he’d seen almost every day of his school career. Another student ran by and he waved his hands frantically and shouted right at her, but she took no notice. “Apparently, I’m not the imprint of a departed soul,” he thought.

He continued to walk, or hover, or whatever he was doing, for what seemed like a long time…or perhaps only just a few minutes; it was hard to tell anymore because he seemed to have lost all sense of time. Eventually, he wandered into the Great Hall and immediately wished he hadn’t.

At the far end was a cluster of red hair gathered around something, or better, someone lying on the table. He looked down and saw himself. Next to him, on the right, were Remus and Tonks. “Oh no, not them…not both of them,” and a terrible sadness filled him. He looked around, almost hoping for a moment, that maybe they were just like him, wandering around trying to figure out what to do next, but he didn’t see them.

Instead, he saw his mother clutching his father, sobbing so hard that her whole body shook. His Dad…well, he was doing his best to hold onto her and hold himself together. Bill was comforting Fleur, and Ginny was crying on Harry’s shoulder as he held her in his arms, whispering soothing words and stroking her long, red hair. Ron was holding a crying Hermione, rubbing small circles on her back as he hid his tear stained face in her curly hair. Fred smirked, “Little Ronnikins finally made a move on that bossy, know-it-all. Good on him! ”

He thought that at least something good had come from all this. He continued looking at his family, dreading seeing the one person he would miss the most. George was sitting at the head of Fred’s lifeless body, beyond crying, beyond hearing, beyond feeling anything.

“Oh Georgie,” he sighed, “You look like hell.”

To be honest, seeing George like this scared him, and he realized that this was the first time he’d actually been frightened since IT happened. Dying he could handle, seeing his family anguished he couldn’t.

He left the Great Hall, determined to find out what was going on and what he was supposed to be doing. “Where’s a lousy ghost when you need one?” He searched the castle looking for someone to give him some answers. He explored the deserted corridors and decided that the battle must be over by now because it was very quiet and he hadn’t seen anyone for a long time. Finally, on the fifth floor, by the picture of Barney the Bulbous, he saw the fleeting shape of something misty and grey, floating down the hall.

“Hey! Hey Nick! Can you hear me?”

“Fred? Fred Weasley?” Nick turned to face him, “Is that you? Oh dear! What happened?”

“Death Eaters. Bloody tossers! I was fighting them and the castle wall exploded. I guess I didn’t move fast enough.”

“Obviously.”

“Say, can you tell me what’s going on or what I should be doing. This is my first time dying, you know.”

“Well, this sometimes can happen during a particularly violent or unexpected death. It seems you have been given a bit of a gift, Fred, that not many are given.”

“A gift? What are you on about? What kind of gift is wandering around confused?”

“You’ve been given the opportunity to linger a bit before you cross over, to see your loved ones before you go. I expect you’ll want to go to your memorial.”

“My memorial? Why in the name of Merlin’s moldy boxers would I want to do that? I don’t want to see my family crying and suffering anymore. I’ve seen enough of that to last a lifetime…uh, well, you know what I mean.”

“Well, what do you want to do then?”

“I just want to let them know I’m okay. I want them not to be so sad. I want them to remember me with laughter and joy, not the way they are now. I didn’t die fighting for nothing…I want them to live.”

“A very noble quest indeed! Carry on Fred. I’m sorry I can’t be of any more help to you. I’m sure you’ll crossover when it’s your time.”

Nick floated through a wall and Fred was left alone again. He wondered if he could float through walls too, but when he tried he simply smacked his head. It didn’t really hurt, but it was obvious that he couldn’t do much in his present form. “Great…Just great!” he mumbled, “When exactly is ‘my time?’ What am I supposed to do until then?” He continued wandering the castle aimlessly for days… or possibly only a few minutes, until he heard a familiar voice singing off key.

Makes no difference where I go, or how I carry on...Please don’t talk about me when I’m gone!

Peeves floated around the corner, turning lazy flips in the air, stopping mid-turn when he saw Fred.

“Well, well, well…what have we here?? Ickle Freddikins! You look positively dreadful!”

“Gee, thanks Peeves.”

“Poor widdle Freddy, a big old wall fell on his head-dy!” He cackled with uninhibited glee. “Whatever are you doing moping around here when you should be using you time engaged in more worthwhile pastimes?”

“Like what? No one can see or hear me, I can’t walk through walls or fly or do anything useful at all.”

“Can’t do anything useful, eh? That’s pathetic, that’s what that is.” Peeves sat cross-legged and floated down to Fred’s level and considered him with a glint of mischief in his beady black eyes. “Maybe ol’ Peevsey can help, hmmm?”

“Help me do what?” Fred replied suspiciously. He’d never known Peeves offer to help anyone before. “What are you on about? What’s the catch?”

“Catchy, catchy? There’s no catchy! I’m only trying to help you out of the goodness of my heart.”

He removed his hat with a flourish and placed it over his heart, trying to look hurt, or noble, or something, Fred wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, Peeves was having a hard time of it, with the hint of smile peeking out of the sides of his mouth.

“Right. This is ME you’re talking to, not some amateur.” There had to be an ulterior motive and there was no way Fred would agree to letting Peeves “help” without knowing what he was getting into. “What’s in it for you?”

Peeves sighed and put his hat back on his bald head. “I help you cross over and you help me liven thing up around here. Dreadfully boring around here since the excitement died down.”

“I don’t want to liven things up. I just want to let my family know that everything is okay and then get to wherever I’m going.”

Peeves shook his head and sighed again, “Tsk, tsk. When have you ever passed up on the chance to shake things up? You’re giving us pranksters a bad name, you are. I’m ashamed of you Fred, ashamed. How better to let them know you’re alright than to pull the ultimate joke on everyone?”

“The ultimate joke?” Fred thought about it for a moment and then it hit him. He had to give him credit…Peeves was making perfect sense. In fact, it was first bit of intelligence he’d heard since he died. He didn’t want a sad memorial; he wanted something more suitable to his memory. Something that everyone would know he had a hand in and something that would make George proud. Fred’s face lit up.

“You’re on! I want to go out with a BANG!”

Fred followed Peeves out of the hall and out to the Quidditch pitch and broom shed. If he couldn’t fly like a proper ghost, he’d just ride a broom then. Peeves told him that he had to act with determination and intent to be able to pick up objects and interact with the living world. It reminded him of the “three D’s” the guy from the ministry taught them during apparition lessons. It took several tries and many colorful swear words before he could grasp the broom handle and several more before he could control the old broom, but he finally got the hang of it.

Next order of business was the Room of Requirement. Fred thought that if it still worked, he could simply ask for the supplies that he needed. Once again, getting the room to work took a number of frustrating tries before it would open to him. It was very odd, being stuck in between worlds, as it was. He couldn’t do things like he did when he was alive, but he didn’t have the abilities of a ghost either. He was eager to pull off this scheme and see George’s reaction. That, more than anything, gave him all the determination he needed to accomplish goal. By the time they left the Room of Requirement and finished setting up, it felt like no time at all had passed, but it was almost time for the memorial service that was being set up on the front lawn.

Just as it was at Dumbledore’s funeral, there were rows and rows of white chairs filled with people crying and looking profoundly heartbroken. In the front row, his dad’s arm was around his mum as she sobbed into her lacy handkerchief. Bill and Fleur, looking grey and pale, were trying to comfort Molly as well.

Ron sat holding hands with Hermione, both weeping silent tears. On one side of Ron, George sat, head down, looking lost. Beside him, Percy sat stoically, arm around his shoulder, trying to be strong, but his eyes were red rimmed and dull.

Ginny and Harry were sitting closely and she leaned her head on his chest, clutching at the front his robes like a lost child. Harry clung to Ginny like his life depended on it.

Fred could hardly bear looking at his family. This isn’t the way he wanted to be remembered. With a last glance, he knew he was doing the right thing and quickly turned away and set about getting ready.

The mourners shifted their attention to the podium when Minister Shacklebolt stood to speak. Fred really didn’t pay much attention to what was said and only caught a few phrases like “…Self-sacrificing heroes,” and “…Won’t be forgotten.” He chuckled to himself, “I can guarantee that THIS won’t be forgotten anytime soon.” There were several speakers, and by the time they were finished, Fred was getting anxious to start and could barely contain his excitement. When the mourners finally stood, holding small, lit candles in tribute to the fallen, Fred smiled and thought, “It’s now or never.”

He quickly threw his leg over the broom handle and took off, careful not to draw attention a rider-less broom. The air was dead silent and thick with sorrow until…BOOM! A rocket streaked through the air, a trail of sparks followed close behind, and then burst into thousands of sparkling lights. The crowd was instantly on their feet, shocked and they collectively gasped. Peeves, who was also hiding out of sight, set off an enormous fountain of sparks to the surprised ‘oohs’ and ‘aahhs’ of the multitude.

More and more fireworks, complements of Weasleys’ Wizardly Wheezes, continued to explode in a symphony of colors and sounds. Great Catherine Wheels whizzed overhead, shrieking as they flew out of control. Enormous fire breathing dragons roared and zoomed through the sky as small flocks of sparkling, dancing hippogriffs tap danced overhead. It was a glorious spectacle of lights and sounds, befitting a grand celebration, not a memorial service. Fred smiled.

By now the crowd was pointing, laughing, crying, and cheering all at once. Even Minister Shacklebolt, his arms spread wide and head laid back looking at the display, laughed in his rumbling, deep bass voice.

Ginny, still wrapped in Harry’s arms, giggled as tears poured from her eyes when she was buzzed by a shooting star. The sparkling tail cascaded around her and magically turned into iridescent butterflies. She caught Harry’s eyes and he hugged her close, as he kissed her tearstained face. This brought a guge smile to Fred's face. Ginny's sorrow and grief over Harry leaving was tough on her and the whole family. The idea of them reuniting made the fighting, the losses, and his own death worthwhile. "You better name your first-born after me."

Ron, Percy, Charlie, and Bill stomped, shouted, and cheered as they clapped each other’s shoulders, hugging one another.

Poor Molly stood rooted to the spot, eyes riveted to the sky, her mouth hanging open like she couldn’t decide whether to be appalled or delighted at the sight, while Arthur simply beamed and shook his head in approval as he wiped his eyes. This was precisely what Fred wanted to achieve and he laughed at the beautiful chaos. Finally, he searched for the one person whom he wanted to see more than anyone else; he looked anxiously at George.

George was still sitting, staring at his feet, hands clasped behind his neck, utterly lost in his own grief. He didn’t react at all to the cacophony and bursts of color the way Fred thought he should. All the laughter in the world didn’t mean a thing if his final prank couldn’t make George smile. He had one more chance to make it work and he soared off, determined to get through to him.

As the spectacular display drew to a close, he launched the final rocket. It exploded into a brilliant waterfall of multi-colored sparkles that settled into a huge, flashing “WWW”, the logo of Weasleys’ Wizardly Wheezes.

George finally looked up, and then slowly stood up, the corners of his mouth twitching. A small grin spread over his face. It was the first real sign of emotion he’d shown since his twin had died. He turned his face to the sky and saw the flashing W’s and knew, without a doubt, that somehow Fred had pulled the ultimate prank on him. He always did have to have the last word.

The small grin grew into a smile and the smile into a chuckle. Before he knew it, George was laughing hard, gasping and clutching his sides…So hard that his ribs ached and tears streamed down his face. He looked up and whispered,

“Thanks Fred…I needed that.”

“Anytime Bro, anytime.”

Fred knew in his heart that George finally understood, even if he couldn’t hear him. Fred watched his family wiping their eyes, laughing, talking, touching, and hugging. “I do believe that my work here is done.”

He slowly turned away and headed up to the castle. Peeves swooped over to him, as he walked.

“Thanks Peeves,” Fred said, “I couldn’t have done it without you, mate.” The poltergeist grinned impishly,

“Just don’t tell anyone I helped you. Wouldn’t want the fact that I actually lent a hand get around, eh?”

He then blew a huge raspberry and saluted before swooping through the door and out of sight. Fred sighed, shaking his head and laughed. “I’m actually going to miss ol’ Peeves,” he mused.

He entered the foyer and was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to climb the Great Staircase. Gripping the rail tightly, he followed that urge all the way to the top tower. Suddenly, everything around him seemed to glow a brilliant white and once again, there was profound silence. Fred closed his eyes, unable to bear the brightness.

*~~*~~*~~*~~ *~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

When he opened his eyes again, he was in an empty room. “This is unusual,” he mumbled, “I pulled the greatest prank of all time, and this is all I get?” He spied a bench and moved to sit on it. As he looked around, the white room began to resemble a train station. There were turnstiles at the far end, trolleys, a ticket window, and a seemingly unending set of tracks leading out of sight. Nobody was around but him. He sat waiting a long, long time…bored out of his mind.

A shrill wolf whistle broke the unending silence. Fred turned around, trying to locate the source of the intrusion. Up ahead, he saw the figures of three men coming through the turnstiles, toward him. The tall one had long, shaggy hair and Fred recognized his long, easy swagger immediately.

“Sirius!” he shouted, “What are you doing here?”

Fred rose and started toward him and the others. Next to Sirius, he saw another familiar face in casual muggle jeans and a ragged sweater.

“Remus, you too?”

“Fred…Sorry we’re late. We’ve been a bit busy, as you can guess.” Remus explained, grabbing Fred by the shoulders and pulling him into a hug. Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder pulled him into an affectionate hug as well.

“Well done, lad. Well done!” Sirius playfully shook Fred’s shoulders and ruffled his ginger hair. “You went out fighting AND laughing at the same time. You can’t do much better than that!”

Fred looked up at him and saw his serious, fierce look melt into a broad smile. Sirius was proud of him and that praise meant more to him than he could say. Fred just nodded his head, too choked up to speak, and rested his head on the older man’s shoulder as he was pulled into another warm hug. When they pulled apart, Sirius spoke again.

“Fred, ol’ boy, let me introduce you to someone.” Sirius gestured to the man next to him and Fred looked over. He had unruly dark hair, glasses, and looked somewhat familiar to Fred.

“Fred, this is James. James Potter.”

“Whoa…” Fred stammered as he shook James’ hand. This was a great shock and he found himself in the company of Harry’s legendary father. He had a million questions to ask the Great James Potter, but all he could manage was, “Wha…why are you here?”

“We’ve come to fetch you,” replied James with a twinkle in his hazel eyes. “I’ve heard so much about you and I know you were a big fan of the Marauders. I just had to come with Padfoot and Moony to bring you back with us.”

Fred grinned at the three friends; Padfoot, Moony, and Prongs, together again. He was sorry that Remus had died, but was very glad that the Marauders were reunited again and even gladder that they were here with him now.

“Where are we going? Is it heaven?” He’d had been just a bit worried that after all his trouble making and pranking, he might be going someplace extremely warm.

“Yes, it’s a very nice place,” answered James, “It sort of looks like Hogwarts, especially since Dumbledore got here.”

“Dumbledore?? Wicked!”

“Indeed,” chuckled Sirius, “You know Prongs, we seem to be one Marauder short of a party here...Maybe we should we let young Fred join in the gang?”

Fred’s eyes lit up at the thought and he couldn’t hide his excitement.

“I donno Sirius? He looks a bit inexperienced and innocent to be a Marauder,” James teased, “…What do you think, Moony?”

Remus eyed Fred; he looked like a little puppy, bouncing in place, ready to play. He grinned and threw an arm around his former student.

“I’ll vouch for him. He may be young, but he’s certainly not innocent, by any means,” he smirked, “Besides, you saw what he did at the memorial service; truly a Marauder worthy prank if I ever saw one.”

Fred blew out a huge sigh of relief and smiled at his childhood heroes. He knew they were taking the Mickey out of him, but he was worried for a moment anyway.

“It’s settled then,” James said, “Besides, I can’t wait to see the look on old’ Snivellus’ face when the four of us show up.”

Sirius clapped Fred on the shoulder again.

“I hereby welcome you to the Marauders! Now, you need a nickname.”

“You can just call me Gred. How’s that?”

The three men looked at Fred and nodded as they started guiding him toward the turnstiles. Fred began to think that being dead might not be so bad. He was going to miss his family a lot, but at least he wouldn’t be lonely. He was even looking forward to seeing his old potions master!

“So, what’s the plan, mates?” he asked.

“Well, we have some new pranks to plan,” answered Sirius, with a gleam in his eye. “We also like to spend a lot of time watching what’s going on down there. For instance, when we left to come get you, Ron and Hermione were breathing heavy in a broom closet and Harry and Ginny were headed for the Room of Requirement for some long overdue snogging.” He wagged his eyebrows for emphasis.

“And we can watch them anytime we want?” replied Fred, with an equally mischievous gleam of his own. This was too much to ask for, he thought…a dream come true!

“Oh yes!” chimed in Remus, “I left Tonks watching them. She claims watching Harry and Ginny 'make up' is better than muggle soap operas. We even have a bet on who’s going to be the first to…”

“Hey! That’s my son you’re talking about,” interrupted James, pulling Remus into a playful headlock and mussing up his hair.

“He always gets the girl. He takes after his godfather, you know!” Sirius boasted, puffing out his chest as he pulled James and Remus apart. James shoved Sirius off of him and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up worse.

“He takes after you? Surely, you can’t be serious Padfoot?”

“I am Sirius…and don’t call me Shirley!”

All four of them looked at each other before they burst out laughing. Fred looked at his fellow Marauders with a warm smile and thought, “I don’t think I’ll ever be bored again.”

The End…

Reviews 24
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