George felt the explosion before he heard it. There was a huge pain in his chest and he gasped. The Death Eater he was duelling took advantage of this and sent a stunning spell at him; but this was deflected by his father's cry of 'Protego!'
'George?' Charlie called. 'Are you okay?!'
All he could feel was pain. He wasn't physically hurt, just mentally. There was only one explanation for this. 'Fred,' he choked out.
'What's wrong with Fred?!' George's mother yelled, her maternal instincts overpowering her need to fight. 'He's ...' The problem was, George didn't know what Fred was.
They had been separated a few minutes earlier, Thicknesse and his fellow Death Eater - Rookwood? - had pushed Fred and Percy back into Hogwarts, finally penetrating the sturdy walls. George had wanted to follow them, he had to stay with Fred, but he was too busy fighting. George knew he needed to get to his twin. Now. He sent a well aimed stunning spell at the nearest Death Eater - he'd have thank Harry later for the DA lessons - and sprinted away, Charlie hot on his heels.
'Fred?' George yelled as he ran faster than he'd ever run before through his old school's corridors. Behind him, Charlie was calling out for his brother too, but in a less desperate way. He hadn't felt what George had just felt.
He didn't feel like his whole world had ended.
He ran down a staircase, it was not moving, scared by the battle raging around it. He passed the Gryffindor Common Room, not pausing to watch the duels that were being fought around him.
Fred. Fred. Fred.
Rubble covered the ground, Hogwartians and Death Eaters alike falling down, sending spells, jinxes, curses and hexes at each other. He passed the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Goyle was spluttering outside; he looked charred. He almost stopped to help, but Fred was his priority.
And then he saw it.
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Percy were all partially buried under rocks, then Percy hopped up, as did Ron. Hermione started to get up, slowly, and Harry was stirring feebly. By some bizarre miracle, his glasses were still in place.
But George only half realised this. He was too busy staring at the body.
'No - no - no!' he cried. Not Fred. Not his twin, his other half, his best friend. 'No! Fred! No!' And Percy was shaking his brother's motionless body, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and George was running at them, with only one thing on his mind.
He had to save Fred. He had to.
George joined Percy and Ron. He yelled at Fred, screamed at him, begged him to come back, to laugh, to smile. But he couldn't revive him. If George could have one wish, it would be to save Fred. He didn't care about the consequences. George could die. As long as Fred was alive. He waited for it, for Fred to pop up and yell, laughing, 'Ta-da!' And they'd all laugh and George would stop crying and Percy would stop crying and Ron would stop shaking and Harry would stop looking as though the world had ended and Hermione would stop looking as though she was the one that was dead.
Fred had to be alive. The world could not survive without Fred Weasley.
George could not survive without Fred Weasley.
Not Fred. Not Fred. Not Fred. Please.
But Fred Weasley's eyes stared without seeing, his last laugh still etched upon his face, and even his twin could not make Fred breathe again.
George felt as though half of him had died.
AN: This is my first FF, though I've been reading them for over a year, so please don't be too harsh. Critisim is accepted though.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own any characters or places associated with it. I am just a huge fan. The wonderful J.K. Rowling owns everything.