Woot! Yet another Harry Potter fanfiction. I wondered what Ron thought when he saw Harry apparently dead. So it started off like that, then my muses took over. I felt bad for George losing his brother/best friend, and since George had always been two of a kind he was now one. I won't say any more, you'll have to read, after the disclaimer. See you at the bottom.

DISCLAIMER I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER


"NO!" Was that McGonagall? I can't imagine the strict teacher ever making a sound like that for no reason. I look up to the victors, unsure if I want to confirm what I already know.

Silence. That's all I was able to comprehend, even if someone had been yelling in my ear.

A moment, that's all it took. One single moment of crushing realization. He's dead.

There's a moment of pure silence. I've honestly never heard Hogwarts this silent before.

I wonder why. Looking up I see what I have dreaded for the past seven years. Harry laying limp in Hagrid's arm. Maybe it was not that particular scene I imagined.

Before I knew what I was doing I let out probably the most heart wrenching sound I have ever made.

"No!"

Hermione's "No!" Followed after mine.

"Harry! HARRY!" Ginny, I wanted to run to her and comfort her.

I found myself unable or unwilling to tear my eyes off of the body of my best friend, no, brother's.

Brother.

Yes that is what he is, was. Now he's dead. I was supposed to go first! I'm older than him! It isn't fair! Wetness rolls down my cheek I barely acknowledge it. Not only did I lose Fred in this battle, I lost Harry.

While its true that Fred and I were never close, he was still my brother. Here was Harry, who had been there for me ever since we met. I had been an obnoxious prick at times, so had he, but we had gotten over it because we were friends. I realized that moment that I was probably the first person he really considered family.

Voldemort was talking now. I'm not afraid of the name now. I couldn't care less about what he was saying. I could only look at the body of Harry.

I felt myself slowly collapse. My knees hit the ground and I was on all fours sobbing. I felt Hermione try and comfort me but it wasn't much when she herself was grieving.

I was trembling, in anger or grief I couldn't tell. I knew that when we started this bloody mission there was a chance of one, or all of us not coming back. I had never thought it would happen. Look at what we had been through in our first year alone.

Somewhere in my subconscious I was nodding my head as if expecting this. What was really bothering me is I hadn't been there with him at the end. I doubt I would have been able to stop myself from saving him as many others had done. This was he needed to do in order to make sure everyone else died.

I would never forgive myself for letting him go off alone. I knew the moment he did, when Hermione and I went to get the fangs he was going to do something mental. I saw it in his eyes. I should've said something to him. I should've stayed with him! I should've... at least been able to say goodbye.

Another heartfelt sob ripped from my throat. He didn't even tell us or anyone else what he was going to do. Whatever words we had said to him before this point in the battle were the last ones he would ever hear. He would remember me leaving him for, at the time, my family, when really it was his as well. My mother practically adopted him, I felt like I denied him that right.

Shakily I stood up. Thinking about how I thought he would die, if it had to come to that. I thought he would be locked in combat with Voldemort and then in order to kill Voldemort he would have use all of his strength. Tom Riddle would blow away in a cloud of dust and Harry would stand triumphant for a second before collapsing and not move.

Neville of all people was the one to kill the snake. I saw it happen when I looked up. I was happy. This thing was almost over. Now we needed to kill Voldemort. I would be more than happy to. After all two of my brothers were dead because of him and my sister would be a grieving wreck for a week or so then she would pick herself back up and stand in the face of adversity.

A grim smile adorned my face. Harry had taught us all something. Even thought we hadn't realized it.

He taught Ginny the value of perseverance.

Taught Hermione to trust in people and not only books.

Neville was now standing defying Voldemort, and not crying like a baby.

He gave Luna friendship, and see what that had caused.

Draco wasn't as much as a prick as he was but he still is one.

Hell, Fred and George learned how to use magic for more than entertainment, he taught them that it could protect.

Cho learned to move on.

Me? Well, he taught my the value of family.

As sappy as it sounds, its true. Harry wasn't just a good teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts, but also at life. I would've laughed if my heart hadn't felt like it was being torn in two.

Was I really so naive to think that since he was the chosen one that we would all walk away from this unscathed and go on to live all of our lives. That nobody we loved would die or get hurt. That I wouldn't have to constantly worry about my family ending up dying because I was blatantly defying the ministry and Voldemort at the same time? I had been.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that we were on the train heading towards our first year of Hogwarts. Him buying every type of candy on the trolly after I had said I had a sandwich. Those days were simpler. There was no fear of death eaters or that someone would die. That I would have to go cross country as a fugitive searching for bits of Voldemort's soul.

If someone said that to me I would've thought them mad and laughed at them when the left, then went to tell Harry what happened. That was it wasn't it? I had taken Harry for granted. He was my best friend yes, always there, and always willing to help. I was stupid enough to believe that this was going to say the same. I never really said "Thank you for being my friend."

That thought made me even sadder than I already was. We were fighting. The death eaters had attacked. At the moment the only thing I cared about was not dying at not leaving everyone with so much pain. I had to be strong even though I didn't want to. I was alway a coward I suppose.

Then came Hagrid's "Where's Harry?"

I turned to look at the half giant. Had he lost Harry's body? I was angry with him. How could he? We should give Harry a proper burial, even if we didn't win this. A rather strong shield charm appeared, Voldemort looked surprised. As did everyone else. At the Charm or my mother kicking Bellatrix's ass.

Suddenly something was thrown off, I realized it was a cloak. Looking the direction the cloak had come from I saw a scrawny figure. He had messy black hair and his glasses say slightly skewed on his face. His wand was drawn and he was facing Voldemort with a determined expression.

I don't think anyone has gone through such a mood change. I take that back, nobody outside of the Battle of Hogwarts would have gone through such a mood change. Here was Harry, our savior, who was dead two minutes ago, standing and fighting.

I felt a smile tug on my face. Of course Harry wasn't dead! He couldn't be! He was the chosen one after all. After a bloody brilliant speech, and a few minutes of dueling, Voldemort fell. The war was one. Harry was alive.

Time slowed down as Harry and I looked at each other. Harry's smile was sad, he walked over to me. "I haven't survived."

"What? You're right here!" I argued.

"Wake up. Its a dream."

"No! It isn't!" I protested.


My eye shot open. I was in my room. The orange paint still bright as ever in the dim light. I look over to the other side of my room. Expecting to see the mop of black hair that I was used to seeing sleeping next to me. My eyes landed on empty space.

I covered my face with my hands. So it had been a dream. Harry was really dead. I remembered that now. Voldemort had died, I can't recall what killed him. Knowing that I wouldn't be able to get any more sleep tonight I stood up and walked over to my window. Staring outside I remembered all of the times Harry and I had looked out of this very window.

My entire family was hit hard with the death of Harry and Fred. Percy was back, and I guess that was a plus. Still the entire house had been silent when we arrived back from Hogwarts. Even though it had been a week. They had a vigil for all of those who died, several funerals. I don't really remember it. I wondered briefly if Harry's muggle family members would know, or care, about their nephew's death. My guess is they didn't care.

I pulled on a jacket and started to head down the steps. Stopping briefly at the room Ginny and Hermione were sharing. Hermione had retreated into her books, and Ginny hadn't said one thing. I felt bad for them. Walking down further I stopped at the twins door. Inside I heard muffled sobs and a whispered "Fred, why?"

George had scarcely left his room since we returned home. We were all worried about him but understood that he needed time to recover. He had after all not only lost his twin brother, who had been inseparable since birth, but his best friend.

I sort of understood what he was going through. I wanted to help George but I needed to come to terms with Harry's death first. Continuing my descent down stairs I got to the bottom floor and was hit with the memory of me walking down the steps when Harry appeared at our house in the summer before our sixth year at Hogwarts.

Once again I realized how different my life would've been without Harry. My head hurt with the thought. I walked past the kitchen and headed outside. Outside I looked around. Thinking about the day that started the count down to Harry's death. I was supposed to be a happy day instead we began a mission to defeat Voldemort.

Life wasn't fair. Harry who had suffered so much, had so much resting on his shoulders from the day he was born to the day he died. He should've been able to live out his life in peace, raise a family. Live as much as a normal life as he could. But no, he had to die.

I breathed out a sigh. At least he didn't die in vain. I figured he would rather die protecting people from Voldemort, than to stand by and watch them suffer. Harry wasn't a coward. I really did want to run up to Voldemort and punch him across the face when he said that. Harry was a Gryffindor, if anything he was the bravest in the house.

The sun was just starting to come up. So the night sky began to fade. I stood outside watching. The darkness was ending with light. It seemed appropriate that it matched my train of thought. I heard the door creak open. I looked over my shoulder, it was George surprisingly.

I nodded a greeting to him and looked up at the sky. George walked up beside me.

"You still haven't figured out how to walk down those steps silently. Good thing you weren't sneaking out." George tried to joke. It was a pitiful attempt. Not only was the joke bad he also looked miserable and his voice was hoarse from crying.

"I suppose you mastered it then?" I retorted gently.

"I have." George smiled weakly. "Fred was always better at it though."

I stayed quiet not wanting to upset my brother by saying something insensitive as I've been known to do. George didn't seem to mind as we lapsed into a companionably, albeit slightly awkward, silence.

We stayed like this for a while longer. George once again broke the silence. "You know, I used to think life was all fun and games. That nothing bad was going to happen."

I tilted my head towards him, having thought something similar to that.

"Seems I was mistaken. I think Fred took things more seriously than I did, but he never showed it." George took a shaky breath. "I still can't believe he's gone."

This time I did turn my head to look at him. "Yeah." I breathed.

"You miss Harry don't you?" George asked suddenly.

I nodded slowly. "I do. Somehow I got to believing that since he was the chosen one nothing would happen to him. Like in the fairy tales."

George wrapped his arm around me. Surprised by the sudden affection I looked up at him. We had never been close. The twins were closer to Ginny than they were to me. I knew why he did this. It was a familiar action that I had seen him and Fred do on several occasions. When something wasn't going right they always had each other but now George was left alone.

We understand each other more than the others. We had both lost our best friends, and person we were closest to, in this war. Both of this were trying to get through this alone, that hadn't worked. Now we had someone to lean on. We can use each other to heal. We still would remember Fred and Harry with pangs of sorrow, but it wouldn't be a sadness that would be with us forever, nor would those two names ever blend in with the other names that were consider casualties of war.

Somewhere I had a feeling that this is what Harry wanted me to do. Move on, not forget him, and live my life. I smiled up at the sky, the night was quickly fading in the light.


We're at the bottom! So what did you think. Yeah I know I killed Harry, I'm sorry, but my fingers just type the story unfolds itself. I hope you enjoyed. I'll be writing more soon. So until then... Later! ~IF