Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be zooming up Easy Street, not writing on this site.
Tissue warning: If you're as emotional as me, you're going to need a tissue. Just thought I'd tell before you ruin your makeup.
The cemetery always looks more beautiful when someone you love isn't buried there. George Weasley used to like graveyards. Now, they were just depressing. He never thought about the departed souls that people greatly missed that preside in cemetery. He just thought as some sort of garden. He will never look at them the same way again. It was beautiful day when he visited his twin. He almost wanted if to be ugly. The world should grieve, but it doesn't. He didn't know if he could bare to look at the words that marred the slab of stone.
"In loving memory of Frederick Gideon Weasley.
The simple words hit him hard. George wasn't one to cry much. He'd usually just laugh it off. But those words weren't laughable. Fred's grave was under a tree, shaded from reality. Tiny, orange and magenta flowers decorated the drab slab of stone. It covered the words that made it Fred's grave. Maybe he could pretend that the grave was his mother's accountant cousin. Everything would be true if the flowers were removed. The words would be visible and everything would be true. He sat down, staring at the cousin's alleged grave.
He wished he could just laugh with Fred and everything would be okay again. That's how it used to be. Now that The Second Wizarding War was over, everything would be okay for some people. The Malfoys are in prison. Parvati Patil lost her best friend and her twin sister. Dennis Creevey lost his brother. Other lives had been lost that were nameless to George. Muggles, the supposed innocent bystanders died. None of that hurt as much as losing Fred. It paled in comparison. Nothing could replace the beloved Weasley that fell that day. Rookwood barely drew another breath after what he did. He fell at the merciless hands of Percy Weasley, who in his rage killed Rookwood, who died a slow, painful death. George had kicked his corpse a bit, but that couldn't make Fred come back. When he realized this, he did unspeakable things to the the body that didn't deserve to be called human. Fred wasn't coming back. George walked over to the accountant's grave and arranged the flowers in a messy circle around the grave. The words seemed to stand out like a rare orchid in a field of daisies. Fred's grave was just as crooked as his grin. George knew he should be getting back to his family before they get antsy. He walked way from where Fred was buried. His twin, his brother, his comrade, his doppelgänger, his companion would never by his side again.
Thank you for reading. Reviews would be appreciated. May God bless you. Love, EmilyHarmony.