DH spoilers, but I can't see how an unspoiled soul wouldn't know who dies already, with so many people posting it everywhere. Oh, and I don't own Harry Potter, yadda yadda.
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No.
No, it wasn't true. Wasn't possible. There was no way it could be real.
George only needed one glance at the body in front of him to realize it was true. Just a quick look. But, for some reason, his head couldn't turn away from it. Fred's corpse was an awful thing to stare at, but he couldn't bring his eyes to draw away.
No.
It should have been taboo for his brother's face to be twisted into that laugh, when his body was in such a dreadful state. And George should have been reassured; Fred died happy. Happy at what, George had no idea. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out. And the more he stared, the more the corpse frightened him. The more it disgusted him.
NO.
While the rest of the family gathered around and wept, George simply sat. He knew he should have been crying, or screaming, or jumping off the castle. But just as his eyes involuntarily watched Fred's smiling face, the tears automatically kept themselves from flowing. So he stared.
Fred was dead. DEAD. Gone. On permanent leave. Never to come back. Never would animatedly laugh, or crack a joke, or plan some mischief, ever again.
NO!
George winced. The thought pained him immensely. But there was nothing he could do, his twin brother was gone... and his only reaction was to stare. That part was okay, though, because Fred wouldn't have wanted him to cry. Fred would have said something sarcastic to liven the mood or something. Just like George should be doing. But he couldn't.
NO!!
George couldn't remember exactly what happened next. There was some movement, some loud voices, some more weeping. He didn't really pay attention to the world around him. The only thing that existed anymore was the dead face in front of him. It was like Fred was taunting him, in a way. Like he was enjoying George's sorrow. Laughing at some secret joke that nobody else knew. Feeling happy, while everyone around him was in tears, and liking it.
And the more George thought about it, the more it frusterated him. Why did Fred have to die? Why did he have to leave George behind, with one ear and a load of expectations? How come George would be able to live longer, when Fred couldn't? That was hardly fair, after all. Fred wouldn't have liked the outcome of that deal. So then... why couldn't George have died with him?
No... no...
He must have sat there for a long time, because soon a cloaked figure (George was to dazed to see who) stepped by, delicately picked Fred's body up, and carried it away. Without even asking. George didn't argue simply because he couldn't find his voice. He turned his head and stared as the figure left the room, followed by other figures carrying corpses. He wanted to shout after them to bring Fred back. Bring back his brother! His best friend! But his throat wasn't working. No sound would come.
It was over. The dead were all cleared away, and the crowds of mourners began to diminish. His family was clumped together over to one side, but he didn't join them. Instead, George stood still and stared at the wall. There was nothing he could do now. Nothing to be done. Fred was dead.
And, on the inside, some of George's heart died with him.
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I'm going to kill JKR for making Fred die. That was pure evil. I miss you, Fred!