Caution! This is a sad story, if you are a fan of Harry Potter, reading this may be painful and very sad. Just warning you...

All around me was rubble, the sound of crying and celebration filled my ears. I searched around for Fred's familiar face, wanting him to be the first I celebrated with. It was over! Finally over!
"George?" Someone called out.

"Hey Angelina!" I replied, spotting her through the crowd and the rubble. She ran towards (then into) me with force similar to a bludger and threw her arms around me. "We did it Angelina, we won." I whispered. She looked up, bewitching dark eyes locked on mine. That's when I noticed them, the subtle differences that explained her silence. Her eyes, powerful and clear just hours ago were now red, puffy and tear-filled. Her face had lost it's radiance and was hollow and pained.
"George, I-I, Fr.. Come with me." She said, choking back tears.
I grabbed her hand and followed her numbly, not know what I was about to see.


Five minutes or so later, we reached the Great Hall. From outside, I could hear the cries of those with loved ones lost and the moans of those injured in battle. Worse than that was when I looked inside of the gaping doors. I was punched in the gut with the number of people lying motionless on the floor, and the huddles of mourners around them. I turned around and asked the dreaded question.
"Who?"
Angelina opened her mouth as if to say something then broke down in tears. My eyes widened and I ran into the Great Hall. In the corner, I saw a huddle of red heads grieving. I ran over to them faster then I had ever run before. I peered over the pack of Weasleys to see the cause of their distress.

My breath hitched and my heart stopped. No. no, no, no. The word echoed in my head. This can't be happening. I opened my mouth as if to say something but all that escaped was a dry sob. I could feel my world collapsing around me, He couldn't be gone, not Fred! I fell to the floor, clutching my brother, my twin, my best friend. My lip began to quiver and my throat clenched, but no tears spilled from my eyes.

I felt someone's arms wrap around me, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the body in front of me. "Fred." I whispered, my voice scratchy and low, but he didn't move, his eyes stayed shut and his body limp and cold. "Freddie... Get up. This isn't funny." Simply speaking was too much, tears spilled out of my eyes, making my vision blurry. Sobs racked my body in waves.

Soon, a large crowd had gathered around us. Family, friends and even strangers came to mourn, but eventually, they all moved on. I was left alone with Fred. I couldn't find a reason to get up. My life had ended along with his.


I knew then that life without Fred would be hard, torturous even, but I had no idea. No idea that each look in the mirror would act as a reminder. No idea that my hand on the Weasley clock would remain at Lost in the years to come and his would hang lifelessly at the bottom label, Home. No idea what the pain of losing my other half would be, no idea how hard my life would be as Just George.

Thanks for reading! This story took a lot of time and work to perfect! If you liked it, please check out my other works and if you have any story suggestions, just comment them below... Thanks again!!!