Disclaimer: the characters belong to J.K.Rowling, some bits are from the book, but this is just the story that J.K. wrote in a different character's perpective.

EPLIOGUE
The War

There he was, lifeless, sprawled on the floor. He can't be dead. He can't be. No. It was impossible. It can't be true. I didn't know how to comprehend the overwhelming fact. It was drowning me, I didn't know how to react but Ginny grabbed my arm. "He's dead," she whispered. Then it hit me. I was never going to see my twin again. Ever.

Panick was the first emotion.

It was everywhere, surrounding me. I couldn't breathe. It was in my throat. It was pressing against my body. How could it be? What was I going to do? Fred! I dropped to my knees, I needed to breath, I was choking, then hyperventilating, then choking again. "Fred," I spluttered. Panick was rising in my chest, slowly rising. It started in the pit of my stomach, then rose to my chest. I felt dizzy. It rose to my throat. It overflowed. I exploded.

Pain was the next emotion.

"Fred!" I screamed. Fred and I had always been together, always. Our lives had been intwined. Now, if felt like the part of me that was Fred, was being ripped out of me, cutting me up into little pieces, being replaced with nothing but pain. I couldn't bear it. My soul was being torn, over and over again. Every part of me screamed with pain.

The third emotion was grief.

The grief washed over me, like I was being drowned. The fat tears rolled down my cheeks. I sobbed, I screamed, I shrieked. I couldn't help it, half of me was missing, and it would be, for the rest of my life. My family surrounded me. Ginny, Ron, Bill, Charlie, Mum, Dad, even Percy, but none of them would be feeling what I felt. Nobody could be feeling what I felt. The sadness was heavy, so heavy. It weighed me down and I sank down to Fred's level. The grief made me weak, vulnerable, which would make me an easy target when the war started again, if Harry didn't give himself in, but it was OK, I wanted to die.

Then it was anger.

It coarsed through my body unncontrollably. I wanted to scream, to rip someone apart. What had those Death Eaters done to me? I hated them, I wanted to kill them all, kill someone, kill anyone. My mind was blurred with the rage and the complete fury I was feeling. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. As I expanded my energy through my hatred I was suddenly so exhausted I almost collapsed.

Next, it was depression.

I felt bleak. Bland. Dull. There was a heaving in my chest and I was no longer crying. I wanted to end life now. What the hell was the point in living anyway, if we were just going to die eventually? Life was pointless, and I wanted it to stop. Stop forever, stop now. I lay there on the floor next to Fred for what felt like hours. But no, Fred musn't have died for nothing. Dieing knowing that, would hurt me more than living in this pain.

Then it was determination.

I was going to kill every, single, Death Eater. I was going to rip each one, limb from limb. It was a big goal, I knew it, but I would find a way to do it. Somehow. Anyhow. I was going to do it.

I lay there on the floor. The emotions coming and going, combining into new things that didn't have a name, things that I didn't even know were possible to feel. The emotions washed over me, stabbed me, drowned me, ripped through me, until I was exhausted.

Voldemort's booming voice pierced the ears of everyone in the castle, "Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself as you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

Just as I thought things in my life were at a point where it could be no more painful, my hopes were dashed as I found that things were about to get a lot worse. I had to leave Fred, go leave Fred, and try and fight Voldemort, without Harry. Harry was dead. Was Harry dead? George didn't believe it. George didn't believe that Harry had been trying to run away either, but then again, there was so much doubt left in his mind after the death of Fred, he didn't know what to believe anymore.

Everyone filed out of the castle, some running, some crawling, know one knew what to believe. Professor McGonagall was one of the first oout of the castle, and I heard her piercing cry before I saw what she was screaming for.

Harry was dead.

He hung limp in Hagrid's arms. I didn't care anymore. Things were getting so unbelievably horrible, that I just didn't care, but at the same time, rushes of dread were flowing through me.

"No!"

"No!"

"Harry! HARRY!" Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all calling out to him at the same time. He thought that they, not unlike him, didn't truly believe that he could be dead. The voices of Harry's closest friend set of everyone else. George was regaining determination, anger, rage. He shouted with everyone else, yelling abuse at the Death Eaters. For what they'd done to the world. To his family. To Fred. To him. He shouted and he swore, and shouted some more until...

"SILENCE!" screeched Voldemort, and no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to make a sound. Silence had been forced apon them

"It is all over! Set him down at my feet Hagrid, where he belongs. You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

I felt the lie, more than hearing it. I felt it and it was no longer fear I felt towards Voldemort, (I didn't have much more to lose) but pure hatred. I made a vow at that moment. I made a vow that I would kill as many Death Eaters as possible.

A/N - please review!