George was in pain.

The physical pain had disappeared long since his ear had been cursed off, but there were more ways to feel pain. He felt as though a piece of him had been cut away; as though there was a hole in him through which any happiness he was possessed of disappeared.

Fred’s burial had taken place on a rainy day, which was all wrong. Fred should’ve gone when the sun was at its highest point. Then, George had just felt numb. The pain came the next day, when he woke up in the morning and it hit him harder than the Hogwarts Express.