Note: This is my first fanfiction EVER, so please feel free to tell me if it's terrible. :) Seriously, I need some expert opinions here! I'm really not a writer, but I was so broken up by Fred's death that this story just poured out of me. There are at least two more chapters to come, which I'll post if I get any response. Thanks!

Discaimer: Yeah, Fred & George (and all the other characters mentioned) aren't mine. Only in my dreams. sigh

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With a last Stupefy! and flick of his wand, George finished that old troll of a DE and dashed out of the deserted corridor to find his next opponent. He sprinted easily down the hallway, wondering whether he or Fred had dispatched more Death Eaters. Well, of course, not to disrespect the seriousness of the stakes, but a little friendly rivalry wouldn't hurt. Be a bit of a motivation. He was musing on this when something hit him and made him halt immediately. It was a sensation he had never felt before, but he clearly and instinctively knew it was bad. He froze on the spot and waited for the strange sense of cold and hopelessness that now permeated his body to subside. He stood there for a few moments, but it did not change. It felt like something had been wrenched out of a supposedly firm grasp. And he thought he knew what it was, but it was impossible to admit that to himself. For though deep down, sometimes right before he fell into sleep, or in the rare moments when Fred's whereabouts had been unknown to him, the thought had crept into his mind–What if something happens to Fred?–he had truly never allowed himself to give the thought any consideration. It simply wasn't going to happen, the two of them had convinced each other of that when they were quite small. George thought back to that short conversation that had given him so much security:

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Fred & George were seven. They had been playing on Bill and Charlie's broomsticks like they always did when Fred fell off his and broke his leg. Mum was able to fix it up easily enough, but she wanted Fred to spend the rest of the day in bed to be sure it healed. Naturally, George didn't feel like playing outside alone, so the two were spending a rare quiet afternoon in their room. Fred was trying to enchant Ron's teddy bear to turn into a spider, and George was looking at his Great Beaters of Gryffindor picture book. After a while, George lost interest in the book and fell into deep thought. After a few minutes of consideration (quite a long time for the twins), he raised his head to look at his twin.

"Freddie?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Well...you know how we're together all the time?"

"Sure."

"Um...Do you think it'll always be like that?" George asked, a little nervously.

Fred grinned. "Well, of course!"

"Forever?"

Fred's face turned serious. "Look, Georgie. We were created together, right? So that means we gotta stick together. See, we're not like them." He jerked a thumb toward the door. "We ain't alone. Ever. It's always the both of us. It's better that way. And we're gonna keep it that way. Forever."

George's face relaxed. "Good. That's what I thought too. The two of us together, always!"

"Of course," Fred agreed. "I mean, what's Gred without Forge?"

"Yeah!" George chuckled.

And they shook on it.

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They had agreed that whatever happened, the two of them had been created together and must therefore stay together, always. They hadn't ever discussed it again, but George never forgot their little seven-year-old's vow. And he had taken that promise, and gripped it as well as he could, and it had been there and kept the unthinkable thought of real separation mostly away all these years. But he knew it had come. He could barely recall the security of the promise, and the terrible sense of foreboding filled him. But he still couldn't bear to believe something had happened to Fred. He was stuck in this trap, unable to move for fear, when another Death Eater's Expelliarmus charm came zooming towards him; he leapt into action and just managed to avoid the Death Eater. He kept running down the corridor, stopping enemy after enemy, but he didn't exalt in his victories as before because the dread & anxiousness were still there. Eventually, he found himself in front of the entrance to the Great Hall, and had to enter to make sure. He strode into the Hall, anxiously peering through the crowds to spot his family. Finally, he caught a glimpse of the telltale shocking red hair. His parents, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron, and Ginny were gathered in a tight circle; he couldn't make out what was in the center of their little group, if anything. He hurried over and tapped his father on the back. His father spun round quickly.

"Hey, what's going on?" He asked, trying appear nonchalant. "Is everyone okay? Harry and the rest holding up alright?"

His father stared a bit and attempted to formulate a response, with little success.

That was not a good sign. "Hey, Dad, where's Fred? I have to make sure he's-uh-I have to tell him something."

His father's expression was grave. George did not like it. His father didn't seem to know what to say; he simply stepped aside.

And it was George's most dreaded sight, the possibility he had been denying to himself all his life:

His twin, his exact replica, laying on the floor, his face stretched in the classic grin, laughter somehow still in his eyes, but this a terrifying new meaning of laughter. Before he knew it George was on the ground and his head fell onto his twin's chest. He waited for the sound of the heart beating, carrying blood, thoughts, and waiting laughter. But it was not there. Fred's body was utterly silent and unmoving.

And everything was black, or white, or gray, or something. He hadn't fainted somehow, he thought, but he couldn't see a thing. His hands were desperately clutching Fred's cold fingers. All he could feel and hear was his own heart still beating. His breath was very quick and shallow. And his heartbeat: it seemed to pound so loudly, filling his ears unbearably with its unyielding, steady march. What struck him was that it sounded so solitary. Not because all the sounds of the Great Hall had faded, but because he knew it was now a single heartbeat. One. Alone. He couldn't fathom it. He had always known the rhythm of the twin heartbeats, and now there was only one. He did not understand how his heart could possibly go on beating without the other, the solitariness of it was so foreign to him. He was not supposed to be one, single. He was one of two; he came in a pair. The sensation of being linked with another had always been there, like the most natural sensations of breathing or of magic rushing through his body when he was young and did not know how to control it. He had always figured it was something like the way ordinary people felt when they were with their soul mate. But this was more, because he had never had to search for it like other people had to search for the one who really knew them, it had been there from the beginning. Knowing that there was another there with him at all times, that he was a team of two, had strengthened him, guided him. It had been, he thought, the crucial part of his personality, what made him Him, what made them Them.

And now...

It was all over.

Fred would never again be there to finish his sentences, speak with him, think like him, corroborate his plans, simply be there and know him, know everything about him as each automatically knew everything about the other. He would never again have his go-to partner in crime, his twin heartbeat. He was alone now; worse than alone, he was apart. Apart from the rest of his family, who could not possibly understand. Apart from a piece of himself that had been wrenched away. And he did not know how to live like that. And he was petrified of being forced to go on alone.

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And there's the first chapter. Sad, ain't it? I'm not sure how much better it gets...Please leave responses if you want to find out! xD