His body.
It laid before me on the floor of the Great Hall. My toes were barely brushing against the soles of his shoes as I stared down at his face. His twin was draped over his chest and his head was held in Ron's lap. Molly's screams seemed to short out in my ears as they got too loud for me. Harry stood off to the side, looking forlorn and guilty. I saw him leave out of the corner of my eye, but couldn't move myself to grab his arm.
His body.
I had hoped that one day my nose would be nuzzled down into his neck, his arms tight around me, our hair splayed out over the pillows on our bed with matching rings shining on our third fingers. I had hoped that one day I'd be holding his hand so tight as I yelled This is all your fault while pushing a live being through my body. I had hoped that one day I'd be holding that hand again, but gently so as not to smooth out our well-earned wrinkles.
His body.
Never again would he steal a quick kiss from me before his mum turned around. Never again would he play with my knuckles, tapping on each one in the different patterns that seemed to play all around him. Never again would I hear his one-of-a-kind laugh, the kind only a man free at heart and full in soul can make.
His body, lying there amongst all the thousands of others – people I knew, loved – his body stood out. I don't know how long I stood there before dropping to my knees in front of him, the crack of bone against stone resounding in my ears despite the crying and screaming.
His name was all I heard.
"Fred, no, my baby, come back! Come back!" the words forming a vibration in my ears like a chant, come back come back come back, playing over and over. Come back come back.
Arthur entering the Great Hall and recognizing the sea of red that laid before me that was his family. His eyes dropping to his son, his smiling son, his laughing son, his dead son. The brief moment of confusion that implanted into my brain, filed away onto a tiny microchip inserted in the slots of my neurons.
Ginny entering the Great Hall, a scratch on her cheek and looking strong and defiant and ready to kiss Harry's senses away, everything falling from her face as she, too, saw her family. One of those who had helped raise her and make her who she is – gone.
But then there was me. A girl with tangled brown curls and plain brown eyes and a scrawny banana-like figure. A hand on his shin like he could feel my small sense of being. I was not crying. I was not frowning. I was just there.
Ron stood up suddenly, asking everybody where Harry went with a strangled voice. I mutely gestured towards the doors to the Great Hall and he wiped the tears off his face and grabbed my arm, dragging me from the spot I so desperately wanted to be at. The last time I saw Fred.
We won the war. Everyone filled in the holes in their hearts with this newfound freedom.
All but me. I had met Voldemort face-to-face, yet I would take him on again in a heartbeat instead of have Fred gone from my life.
