Voldemort was gone, but so were many others, many heroes murdered throughout all the years. Many killed at his hand, many killed by a mere slip of a spell. Regardless of how many were perished, Fred Weasley was still gone.
His death struck Angelina the hardest. It had taken every ounce of strength for her to leave his dead body. His face still had its familiar laugh when she left it. All she had wanted was for this to be an awful dream. A nightmare. It was a nightmare, but it was most certainly real.
"Angelina," said Alicia softly. "Eat. Please. Just one bite. For Fred," Alicia pushed a bowl of soup in front of Angelina. Angelina lifelessly took a bite, and another, and another. And then – she just stopped. She pushed it away and buried her head into her hands. Alicia held back a tear as she pushed it back toward Angelina. "Please Angelina."
This time, Angelina didn't even respond. Her eyes had bags under it, her face had no trace of make-up and her hair was tangled, not to be combed or washed for a time.
Across the room, Oliver Wood was attempting to give George some soup as well. George hadn't even taken a bite. He didn't move. All he did was sit there. Not even cry – just sit. It was as if his soul had departed and all that was left was a shell of him. He sat there, his skin sallow and sunken, his hair messy and unbrushed. Katie Bell sat beside George and occasionally patted him on the back. She too, tried to give George something to eat. All of it was to no avail. He didn't even glance at it.
Alicia, Oliver and Katie looked at each other mournfully. Their two friends were in depression about Fred's death - as was understood. George was Fred's twin brother and the two had been partners in crime, business and life. Angelina had been Fred's girlfriend, and one of his best friends. There was no doubt about their love. At the time of his death, they'd both reacted differently. George had torn after Fred's murderer whereas Angelina had just stopped. However, now they both acted the same – like ghosts who didn't acknowledge anything anymore. It was like they were going to waste away into meaningless shells.
The three friends made silent motions to each other. At the end of their silent conversation, they left the apartment and apparated to Hogsmeade.
Katie sighed. "It was awful when Fred died, but in a way, this is worse. It's like three people died, all that remain are their shells. Their souls have been torn apart."
The other two nodded. "I understand that this is really awful for them – I mean, it's really awful for us too, but I wish they'd talk or at least eat," agreed Alicia.
Oliver didn't respond directly. He just looked pathetically down at his feet. "I hate to say this, but you guys, I'm really sorry, but I have to go." He smiled unhappily. "I really don't want to. But I need to support myself somehow. I'll be by later this evening to try and help them a bit. I'll see you guys later." He waved slightly and disappeared with a pop!
The funeral was the next day. Only his family, significant Order members, Oliver, Katie, Alicia, Angelina, Hermione and Harry came. It was too painful for everyone to register. As a result, it was a small funeral. No one smiled as he would've liked. No one spoke of joy. It was a small gathering to mourn Fred's death. Everyone was in heart-wrenching tears, except for oddly enough, George and Angelina. It was as if those two had out cried themselves. They sat still, prim and quiet. Their eyes told everyone that they were still depressed about Fred's death, but there were no other signs of unhappiness – they wore neat, pressed clothing, their hair was tame, they looked positively presentable, and there were no tears. They just sat there, staring at the coffin that held the young man.
Watching George and Angelina only made Katie and Alicia cry harder. Katie was crying into Oliver's shoulder and Alicia was leaning her head against George, sobbing softly. Silent tears were streaming down Oliver's face.
This was nothing compared to Mrs. Weasley though. She was a wreck. She was crying into her husband's shoulder, sobbing "He was so young!" Her yells were muffled by her husband's shoulder, but they were still distinguishable. Next to the Weasley family sat Hermione and Harry. Hermione was crying into Ron's shoulder as Ron stroked her hair, Ron crying silent tears too. They looked exactly like Katie and Oliver.
Harry was the second worst though, after Mrs. Weasley. He was all torn up about this, thinking it was his fault. Ron, Ginny and Hermione had already tried telling him it was no such thing, but Harry refused to listen. Finally, he stood up and walked away, his hands jammed into his pockets. He walked in a random direction and when he felt he was far enough away from everyone else, he felt his scar. It hadn't hurt since Volde – no, Tom'sdefeat, but he still ached from the battle and from the deaths. After Tom had been defeated, he had referred to the dark wizard as Tom – the rightful name.
Back at the funeral, no one was still speaking. Finally, Mr. Weasley stood up and spoke in a constricted voice. "Thank you for coming. I know Fred meant a lot to us all, but I expect he wanted a celebration of his life more than a complete mourning. Knowing Fred, I expect he wanted a prank or two to be played. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd expected all of his creations to be set off in fact."
At this, all of his siblings with the exception of George laughed slightly. Then, Ron turned to Charlie and Bill and whispered something in their ears. The three boys laughed hollowly as Charlie nodded. They set off fireworks, a reminder of 5th year. This time, everyone chuckled softly. Finally, the tense and depressing mood was lifted as was George's.
George allowed his face to break into a smile. He nudged Alicia next to him and whispered something softly into her ear. Alicia lifted her tear-stained face and snorted. Then, when Ron, Charlie and Bill fed Ton-Tongue Toffees to an unsuspecting Angelina, all while claiming they were little sweets Fred loved, George let loose and cracked up. When Angelina realized she'd been tricked, she attempted to laugh, although constricted by the tongue that seemed to be choking her. When she begged for the antidote, and was given it, she was able to giggle. The joyous action seemed to relieve her of a lingering burden.
Finally George realized his brother – no - twin's death had been terrible, but knowing Fred, he did want them to celebrate his life instead. So, following his father's speech he stood up. "Actually, I expect Fred would've wanted us to have a bloody good time at his funeral, laughing till it hurt instead of crying our heads off,"
Ron grinned. "Ear, ear!"
Everything clicked in George's head; Fred was gone, but life was still going on. There were other people who had loved Fred, but loved him as well. George laughed genuinely for the first time in days. "You're a saint, Ron!"
"No, I believe YOU'RE the saint. You're ever so holey." Ron said with a deadpan gaze.
Everyone laughed, different memories of Fred flashing through everyone's heads. With that, Fred's death was avenged by defiantly showing his murderers that they couldn't diminish his memory.
"I reckon I am," mused George. "I reckon I am."