Watching him fall was the worst thing George had ever expirienced. Seeing it hit him, seemingly in slow motion, and watching as it took ages for him to hit the ground, but still not long enough for George to run to him, was what ripped his heart out.
And in that moment, a part of George died as well. The part of him that was Fred.
Then suddenly real time kicked back in. Everyone was rushing around. People were laughing and hugging, others were sobbing. People were lying on the ground, and many of them weren't getting up. Tears were everywhere, tears of saddness and happiness alike. But none of it made sense to George. None of it registered as anything other than noise.
There were flashes of red hair and George was vaguely aware that his family was around him, around Fred. His mother was sobbing, he could see the tears and the heaving of her chest, but somehow he couldn't hear it. Every sound in the air blended together and hurt his ears.
He rushed to his side, but it was too late. Eyes half open, drained of life, skin paler than ever. This was an empty shell. This wasn't Fred.
He didn't know who was around him. Suddenly everyone looked the same. All he knew was that it wasn't Fred.
It would never be Fred again.
AN: Rewrite of the original story, My Other Half, on my old account. Hope you guys like it:)
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still don't own Harry Potter, and somehow I have a hunch that I never will.