A Little Bit Lost Without You
Every night, I remember that evening.
The evening on which you fought, you cried, you pleaded .. but still lost everything that really mattered to you.
We were all fighting for a cause, for a greater good, but it was you who stood there, in the middle of all the chaos, and stared.
Stared at your dead twin brother.
The bangs, crashes and flashes of light meant nothing to you when you saw Fred's body.
The sheer look of anguish, of pain, loss and grief, shone in your deep brown eyes that were void of tears.
You were lost, in that moment, but there was nothing I could do.
I had to fight, I had to, to make a better world for my family. For you.
I wanted to comfort you. I wanted to tell you everything would be all right; that the worst was over.
But it wasn't.
I still had to battle, we all did. One soldier down meant nothing to the opposition. It didn't matter to the Death Eaters, Fred's death. It was just one less kid they would have to murder.
I miss Fred Weasley, never forget that. But in comparison to yours, my loss is nothing. It was you who lost a twin brother, you who would have to live without him, your best friend, for the rest of your life.
I almost lost my sister once, and the horror I recall from seeing her name in blood on the wall never goes away.
Our sister, little Ginny being dead, was more than any of us could bear. But she survived; went on to marry and start a family.
Not Fred, though.
Fred's not coming back. He's dead.
How you've got this far already without falling apart, completely beyond repair, is a mystery. It's miraculous, George, and we are all thankful. Thankful that we don't have to lose another twin, the Forge to his Gred.
We try to help you, George. Angelina cares for you so much, as do Fleur and Ginny.
They can't bring Fred back. You can't bring Fred back.
He's not coming back to life.
But you did. Slowly, ever so slowly, the spark started to return to your previously dull eyes.
It took a while to forgive yourself, to stop the guilt you felt. But you managed it eventually, and eventually is all that counts.
I know your son, little Fred Junior, will never fill the emptiness that was made in your heart when your brother died. You know that too, but deep down I think a part of you still hopes. Still hopes that one day Fred will be working beside you again.
He will, George. Fred Junior will.
Love him, care for him as much as you do your brother; and maybe, just maybe, that hole in your heart can start to be refilled.