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Half-Life
Everyone had lost someone during the battle. Of course they had. There hadn't been any exceptions. Some had lost everyone.
Look at little Teddy Lupin, that was what they all said to console themselves. Look at him, he can't even talk and he's already lost his father and his mother and his -
Teddy had become some kind of representative symbol for the people around him. There was an unspoken rule that nobody could ever complain, because somebody else had always been hurt worse. You're alive. You have no right to complain. And look, they would add, look at little Teddy Lupin, he's lost so much and will grow up not even knowing what he's missing. That's the greatest tragedy of it all, everyone said, to not even know what you've lost.
George wasn't so sure he could agree with them.
Everyone had lost someone.
Little Teddy Lupin had lost everyone.
But George had lost himself.
It was worse than having been rent in two. It was less like losing a brother and more like someone putting their bare hand into his chest and ripping out one of his lungs with their dirty fingernails.
He rather wished they had.
He'd have given up a lung quite happily to have Fred back. Or a leg. Or both his legs. Or any other part of his anatomy.
In the early days he would have killed himself, except for what he knew it would have done to his mother.
Because he hadn't, he was condemned to a half life.
Everyone had lost someone.
Little Teddy Lupin had lost everyone.
But George had lost himself.