Just a random one-shot I decided to create. I don't own HP.
Mirrors. In the months after the Battle of Hogwarts, he began to hate the damn things. Whenever he came face-to-face with a mirror, he could not help but shudder at the image it showed him. Fred. Fred, but paler and gaunter, and missing one ear. He could not bear it. It was as if they were mocking him. Fred had gone. Fred had had his life extinguished at such a cruelly young age. Fred should not have died. They had had so many plans for the future. And now the mirrors taunted him, making him look into the face of his dead brother every day. He had once loved mirrors. Whenever he was forced to separate from his twin – which was rarely – mirrors were a comfort, because he could gaze at himself and imagine he saw Fred there. But now Fred was gone. He had become paper-white and stick-thin with grief, and he had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, for every time he closed his eyes, Fred's face swam before him, and Percy's voice echoed in his ears – "George? George, I'm so sorry! I couldn't do anything! He...he's dead, George."
His family had not heard him laugh for almost a year now. Why? Why did he have to suffer like this? It just wasn't fair! It made him want to scream, cry, lash out at everyone. It made him want to curl up into a ball and shut his eyes and ears against the cruel, cruel world. It made him want to kill himself. Oh, the pain, the unbearable pain...
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