Disclaimer: I do not own characters or settings which are mentioned within the Harry Potter books or films; they all belong to JK Rowling. Enjoy!-.
It had been approximately 35 days since the fall of Voldemort.35 days since Fred died.35 days I had been a single twin.35 days of being at the bottom of a firewhiskey bottle. I had been staying at The Burrow, due to the incapability to stay in the flat in which me and my deceased twin had shared since we left Hogwarts two years earlier. The rest of my family took Fred's death hard, but they were coping which was more than I could say for myself as I would spend most of my days curled up in the bedroom in which Fred and I used to share, crying hard as I drank away the emptiness which had swallowed me when my brother, Fred died due to an explosion caused by the notorious death eater, Augustus Rookwood.
"George?" I heard my mother say quietly, her voice echoing through the thin wooden door that separated my bedroom from the hallway in which she was stood in. I hadn't began to drink yet, so reluctantly I opened the door, revealing my dirty and dishevelled self.
"Oh, Georgie. You look so thin and weak." My mother gasped, looking me up and down before pulling me into a large, bone-crushing hug.
"He's gone Mum, and he's never coming back" I sobbed, unable to keep my emotions hidden any while longer.
"It's not like you're the only one who lost him." Spat my younger brother, Ron before I turned to face the younger redhead who was currently stood in the doorway of his own bedroom.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley! How dare you say such a thing like that? You may have lost Fred like the rest of us, but George was his twin so it's natural for him to get more upset about it than the rest of us!" screamed my mother, before both Ginny and my father came rushing up the stairs, a look of confusion wiped across both of their freckled faces.
"He's right, Mum. I guess I'm just being over dramatic about it all." I choked, walking back into my bedroom and casting a locking spell upon the old wooden door that currently separated me from the rest of my family.
"Freddie," I sobbed, holding the picture of my twin and I on our eighth birthday where we were frantically waving at the camera, flashing toothy grins at my father who had been taking pictures at the time.
"Arthur, we need to do something. He's lost so much weight not to mention the countless empty bottles of firewhiskey in there with him" I hear my mother say as I began to cry louder.
"Molly, dear, leave him be." My father soothed before the pair made their way downstairs.
My stomach growled with hunger so I decided to make my way downstairs and grab some food but my journey was delayed when Hermione emerged from Ginny's room and stood in front of me.
"George, how are you?" she asked softly, looking at me with sympathetic eyes.
"Empty." I replied, my eyes beginning to well up with tears.
"Could I maybe speak to you later?" she asked quietly, running a hand through her hair which had calmed down since she had left Hogwarts. It looked amazing.
"Sure" I mumbled, using the back of my hand to wipe the tears that were currently streaming down my face. I stepped round Hermione and continued my way down the stairs before seeing my family turn round in unison from where they were sat at the dinner table.
"Alright?" I mumbled, vaguely nodding towards my family as I made my way towards the cupboard in which my mother kept pre-made sandwiches for when any of us got hungry before dinner.
"George, stop being such an anti-social prick and start socialising with the family for the first time since Fred went and got himself killed" growled Ron from his seat at the dinner table.
That was when I snapped.
"You heartless bastard!" I screamed, sprinting towards the table before pushing Ron to the floor and I leant over him.
"He was your brother! He was there when nobody else was!" I bellowed, punching him repetitively in the face and when I heard a satisfying crunch, I stood up and began to kick him in the ribs as hard as I could.
"It's true though, He was careless like usual and went and got himself blown up!" snapped Ron, clutching his nose from where I had just broken it. I pulled my wand out and held it to his throat.
"Say something else about Fred, go on say something!" I spat as Bill and Charlie pulled me away and into the garden.
"George, what the fuck are you playing at?" exclaimed Bill, pulling the band from his long hair and tied it back again in a tighter hold.
"You heard how he was disrespecting Fred, he had no right!" I replied, pulling out a packet of wizard cigarettes and removed one from the packet.
"Can I have one of those" asked my older brothers in unison, holding their hands out for a cigarette. Reluctantly, I passed them both a cigarette before pulling out my wand and lighting my own. Taking a long drag, I looked down at the scars that were visible on my arms.
"George, please tell me that those scars on your arms are from the war" asked Bill, blowing a perfect ring of purple smoke from his mouth. Shaking my head, I took yet another long drag before Charlie broke the awkward silence.
"George… Have you done them within the past month?" Charlie said, a worried look swept across his face as his cigarette dangled from his lips. I nodded before walking away from my brothers, tears pricking my eyes for the third time that day. I sat down against a tree before the pair walked over and sat beside me.
"Can I see?" Bill said quietly, peering over towards my arms. They weren't regular scars like most people who self-harmed. My scars all read Fred.