A/N: Challenge fic yay! Am I the only one that cries when I think of Fred and George? Love them both completely. I must admit I teared up while writing this. Anyway. I wrote this for Just above your Average Malfoy's "What do You Have Against..." challenge. It actually gave me a bit of trouble. Anyway with the show!

'Cowards die many times before their deaths,
The valiant never taste of death but once.' -Julius Caesar, Act 2, scene 3

George Weasley, hated the rain. It reminded him of many unpleasant things. It was raining the night they lost against Hufflepuff. It was raining when Angelina left him. It was raining the night Percy had fought with their Mother and Father and left. That was the first time he had seen his father cry. But not the last. It was raining the day that she walked in with that cursed book.

Her dark hair was wet and matted against her face, despite the storm raging outside she was still smiling like she hadn't a care in the world. She picked her way through the various shelves humming a small tune under her breath as she examined the fake wands that turned into canneries when waved.

"May I help you?" George asked with a slight bored tone as she giggled at the miniature diadems that spout nonsense words when worn.

"Er, yes actually," She said turning to him with a shy smile, "I am looking for something for a friend. His birthday is next week and I haven't the foggiest what to get him."

"We have a nice collection of Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs in stock; they range from dynamite dragons to fizzling doxys'." He said pointing her towards the back shelves.

"Those do sound like something he would enjoy," She mumbled smiling fondly, clutching a book to her chest.

"You're Cho Chang aren't you?" He asked suddenly, recognizing the pretty Ravenclaw seeker.

"Yes," She replied holding out her hand, "And you, of course, are George Weasley. We were in the D.A together."

He shook her hand. "Yeah, weren't you the one who set my robes on fire when we were working on the Bat-Boogey Hex?"

She nodded sheepishly. "I think I will go check out those fireworks now."

George walked back to the counter and watched as she looked over the fireworks curiously before selecting two brown packages and making her way back towards him.

"Is that all?" He asked ringing up the price even though he knew the cost of all the items in the shop by heart.

She nodded happily and placed her book on the counter so she could go through her purse. He did a double take as he read the title 'Shakespeare's Greatest Works.'

"You're reading Shakespeare?" He asked not quite able to keep the disgust out of his voice.

"What do you have against Shakespeare?" She asked raising her eyebrows. "Is it because he was a Muggle?"

"N-no, it's just…"

"George! Duck!"

George dived to the ground, skinning his hands and ripping his jeans, just as a red flash of light came flying toward him. He was heaved to his feat suddenly and looked into the worried eyes of his identical twin brother, Fred.

"You okay Forge?" He asked, looking him over.

"Fine, Gred." George mumbled, brushing himself off. "Just a small cut, let's go find Ginny."

His twin nodded and they began to weave through the battles that were going on around them, watching as friend and foe fell to each other's spells. It smelled like death, fear, sweat, and blood. Every corner they turned there was another tragic scene in front of them. Classmates screaming in agony and despair, bleeding all over the floor they once walked happily though. George forced himself to turn a blind eye to their suffering and tried to focus on finding his little sister who could be suffering the same fate as the teenagers and adults around him. His heart retched as he watched Fenrir Greyback take down a sixth year Hufflepuff that had once given him a valentine. He paused for a minute before tearing down the corridor trying to block out the girl's heartbreaking screams of terror and pleas for help.

He dodged a curse from a Death Eater and turned around to make sure Fred had avoided it as well. His heart stopped, Fred was nowhere to be seen.

' No, not him, anyone but Fred.' George thought, looking wildly around for the red head. He raced back down the corridors without another thought. Desperately trying to find the familiar figure that perfectly mirrored his own.

"George!"

His heart began to race as he spotted his brother helping a girl whose forehead was bleeding so heavily that it covered her face and obscured her features.

"Help!" He urged, trying to pull the girl to her feet. "We have to get her to the Great Hall."

"Fred, we don't have time for this!" He hissed at his brother, but lifted the girl into his arms anyway. Her eyes were closed, and her skin was deadly pale, but he could still see a faint pulse on her neck.

Fred shot him a furious look. "What? Do you expect me to just let her die in front of me?"

"Forget it, let's just get out of here," George said eyeing the approaching Death Eaters that were shooting spells off randomly.

"'Cowards die many times before their deaths, the valiant never taste of death but once.'" George heard his brother mumble as they ran through the destruction that was once Hogwarts.

"What?" George shouted, trying to be heard over the shouts of the wizards and witches around them.

"Shakespeare." Fred shouted back, a grimace on his face.

"What's it mean?" George asked, dodging a spell that had ricocheted off a piece of armor.

Whatever his brother was going to say next was lost, as a big piece of wall crumbled from the ceiling were the spell that George had just dodged hit. Hogwarts itself seemed to shake as the wall came down around them. George was thrown out of the way, and the girl tumbled out of his arms as he fell to the ground.

There was a sickening crunch and the dust cleared. Trembling George got to his feet and took in his surroundings. His clothes were covered in blood that was not his own, the stones were also drenched. Someone was screaming loudly. He turned around and spotted Fred. He too was covered in blood; he was also screaming and clutching his hair. But there was something off, Fred's ear was missing. Time seemed to stop as George released that he too was clutching his hair. Fred stopped screaming, but his look of pure anguish stayed. George moved forward to question his brother, but stopped when he saw him do the same.

"Fre-"

George's blood seemed to turn to ice in his veins. He wasn't looking at Fred. He was looking into a mirror.

"George? It's just what?"

Cho was looking at him skeptically and handing him money. George gave her a strained smile as he took it and handed her back her change.

His brother never got a chance to tell him what the words had meant. But George had found out on his own. He had ran like a coward that night, ignoring the cries of help from his allies and once friends, in turn he had to watch them die every night in his nightmares, wishing to be dead along with them. Fred had died like a true Gryffindor, protecting George and helping anyone he could.

"It was Fred's favorite." He mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

"Cedric's too."