OMG, I JUST FINISHED HP7!!!!! YEAH!

::WARNING:: …yeah well, this story has definite spoilers. If you haven't finished The Deathly Hallows, please don't read this and then complain to me about ruining it. I warned you.

I actually came up with the concept of this story before I read the book, but I didn't actually think it would happen! I was kidding! I WAS KIDDING!!!!! –weeps-

(Sorry if you got another alert, just edited a couple mistakes I found...)

He's gone. He's really gone.

The bastard left me behind.

The funeral was a quiet one. Immediate family and friends only. Ginny and mom were crying openly. Dad looked like he was about to break his chair's arm. Harry was holding on to Ginny; Hermione was sobbing into Hagrid's shoulder, while he patted her on the back. My brothers and I were carrying the casket. We were burying him in the orchard, behind our house. Where we used to play Quiddich together.

It's…it's what he would have wanted.

I actually asked him about it once, and he told me he wanted to be stuffed and put on the couch to make sure I never brought strange girls into our apartment. We had laughed about it then. We never thought…

We had always been together. We were together when we were born; I guess I just always assumed we'd go together too. With a bang, you know? Like…I dunno. Some freak firework collision, or experimental sweets gone horribly wrong. But now he's gone. He left me behind.

I watch them lower the coffin slowly in the ground, and Dad hands me the shovel. They want me to be the first one to throw the dirt in, like it will make me feel better or something. It won't. It's all too final. Shoveling dirt in will be admitting he's gone. But I do it anyway.

I know they want me to say something. After all, I knew him best. He was the best friend I ever had. But maybe for the first time ever, I'm at a loss for words. I had what I was going to say written down, but suddenly, it seems shallow, and unimportant. I look at the faces in the crowd: at Ginny, who's come so far from being our baby sister. At Bill's scarred face, and Charlie's tanned one, both marred with grief. At Percy, who had finally redeemed himself a bit in my eyes. At least he lived to see he might not be the prat we always thought he was. At Ron, who's probably the best of all of us. Well, no. Fred was the best. He was always the best.

I cleared my throat and crumple the paper in my hands. I guess this was it. I think about what I want to say, and then decide to tell them the truth.

"W-when Fred and I were seven years old," I start, weaker then I had hoped. I clear my throat and start again. "When Fred and I were seven years old, we had a really big fight. It was over something really stupid; whose toy broomstick was whose, I think. Anyway, that night, we still hadn't made up and we were yelling at each other and I…" I gulp, remembering the incident vividly. "…I told him that I wished I'd never had a twin." I look at the others. Everyone is dead silent now, watching me. I don't think even Mom and Dad know this story.

"So, in the middle of the night, he tried to runaway. When I woke up to go to the bathroom, I noticed the open window and followed after him. I went all the way past our house, all the way into the muggle neighborhood, and then I saw him, crouching in front of this chain link fence. I ran over to him, I wanted to make sure he was okay and everything.

When I stopped in front of him, he didn't look up at me at first. He was just…sorta crouching there, holding his arm. I think he had been crying. And then I said 'Fred?' really quietly, and he looked up at me and he said…" I don't think I can even finish it now. I single tear runs down my cheek, and I let it fall, but only that one. The unshed ones burn my eyes. I won't cry.

"He said 'George, I'm saintlike! See, I'm holey?' and he held up his arm and there was this big cut on it. It was the worst joke ever, but we both laughed and laughed, because we were just so glad to have found each other. Cause he was coming back, see, and he had got lost on the way." I take another shuddering breath.

"On that day, we promised we stick together. And up until now, we've kept that promise." Everyone's crying again now, me included. "Fred was a lot of things to me. He was my partner. He was my brother. He was my friend. But he was more then that. He was my twin. And that's a bond we'll always have." I pause for a moment.

"I know one day we're gonna be together again. And when that day comes…" I smile broadly. "I'll throttle the git with his halo for making us wait."

Everyone laughs at this. It's good to hear. I sit down and let the others take their turns to talk about Fred. As I listen to the stories, I appreciate how much he really meant to us all. Every story ends with everyone laughing through their tears. It's what Fred would have wanted. I bet somewhere up there, he's laughing at all of us for being such wimps.

I know we'll be together again. We promised.

Yes, I like writing sad stories, happy?! Well, I didn't cry when I read about it, but I cried writing this, because this made it official. He's gone, isn't he?

I'll miss you, Fred.