DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. Which is enough to send me into a deep spiraling depression!
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Everyone always told them that they needed to this, or they needed to do that. They never complied, ever. They always did whatever they wanted. No matter what anyone said to them about it. They were told that they had to go to school and get a real job, that never happened. They left school in their seventh year and opened a joke shop. That was what they were good at, that was what they were good at. That was all that mattered to them. But that was two years ago. Now only one was left to fend the joke shop. One was left with the grieving mother, father, sister and brothers. And it wasn't like he was perfect, no, he was anything but. He was still grieving over the loss of not only a brother, but a friend. Not only a friend, but a whole half of him. And now, well, now he would never be whole again. George knew that it was useless to grieve and cry for Fred, but he couldn't help it. He knew that Fred would hate that George cried himself to sleep every night, because he didn't have the comfort of his brothers snoring to put himself to sleep anymore. He knew that Fred would be looking down from wherever he was and shaking his head at George's tears.
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George was looking out the window, tears filling his eyes as he remembered grabbing the gnomes out of the garden with his brother. That garden was now overgrown and no one bothered to fix it. Fred had always kept the house loud, so that there was never any of the quiet that had crept into the walls now. Fred had always been laughing and making anyone and everyone laugh too. The tears were flowing now, flowing freely with no chance of stopping. George had heard his name being called, his brain always reacted slower than the rest of his body. At first he thought it was his brother, his friend, his other half. But it was just Ron. Ron, Fred had always given Ron a hard time. George couldn't even make half-hearted jokes anymore. There was just no point when you didn't have anyone to laugh along with you. Even Percy was distraught! The last words that Fred had ever uttered to Percy was congratulations. And they constantly ran through George's head. Like an annoying bird, except George didn't want to get rid of the voice. He wanted it to stay there forever, so that there was no hope of him losing his brothers memory. The last connection he had with his twin except for the pictures. The pictures always showed him smiling. That's how everyone should and would remember Fred Weasley. "Perce! You're actually joking! I can't--" those were it. The words.
"George. Mum wants to talk to you about something." Ron said, walking into what used to be the twins room.
George turned to look at his youngest brother. The tears continued to glow down his cheeks, unchecked and unheeded. Ron walked over to his older, grieving brother. He tried so hard to keep his lip from quivering and letting out a sob of remorse. "Tell her I'll be down soon." George said, his voice breaking with tears.
Ron nodded and headed down the stairs. George saw the tears filling his brothers eyes as Ron realized how hard it was for George to keep up the facade of a normal life. He turned back to the window he had been staring out of. He heard his father and three older brothers struggling with the body of the loved one. Fred's face was uncovered so that everyone could see the ghost of laughter still on his face. George found himself staring into the empty, soulless, lifeless eyes of his twin. It was almost scary seeing his brothers eyes the way he never thought he would. George turned away from the window and went to his door. He walked slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Ron said you wanted me." he said to his mother.
"Oh, George!" Molly gasped and hugged her son. George sobbed into her shirt. She rubbed his back and pulled him away from her. He wiped the tears away, which only brought more tears. She looked at him and smiled. "I have something I want you to do," she sighed.
"Yeah?" George said thickly.
"Fred's funeral is tomorrow. And I—I was wondering if you could speak at it? You were the one that was closest to him and you're the one that really knows what it's like to miss Fred. If it's not to hard for you." Molly said quickly. George nodded and walked out the door. More tears fell. He sat down on the grass and watched his brothers cover Fred's face back up. George realized that there was no turning back. Fred was dead, and he was never gonna come back. There was no point in crying and sobbing over the dead. He had agreed to speak at the funeral, but that, that was going to be the last time he was going to cry over his body.