Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. It's all JK Rowling's

Clink. Splash. Clink. Splash. Clink. Splash. Each galleon that landed on the bloodstained ground was joined with a tear. Then two. Then three. Then four. Until every galleon fell through the air with a river of tears, only to land on the cold, hard ground where my brother lay dead. Our last sale together. Fainting Fancies. Maybe he took one. Maybe he accidentally ate it. Maybe he'll wake up. Maybe he'll be okay. Maybe I'll be okay. I lay my head against his chest, the few coins that didn't quite make it to the ground digging into the side of my head. No heartbeat. He didn't take a Fainting Fancy. He didn't eat it. He won't wake up. He won't be okay. I won't be okay. None of us will. Now that he's gone; surrounded by blood and tears and money that didn't save him. With a twin that should've saved him. Clink. Splash. Clink. Splash. Clink. Splash.