A family gathered around a table, the same way they did at every meal over the summer. Only this time, somebody was missing. Somebody was lying on the table in front of them. Somebody was dead.
But this wasn't just any somebody; this was Fred Weasley, one of the joys of his parents' lives. As the family stood there, silently supporting one another, they each remembered the life Fred Weasley had lived.
Tears trickled down Ginny's cheeks. Fred was dead. Her eyes were rimmed red because Fred was dead.
Ron, with his arm wrapped around Ginny, was crying into her hair. This was his brother, the brother who transformed his teddy bear into a giant spider. Fred was laying on the table, his blood stopped, and his heart still. Ron wept because Fred was dead.
Next to his father stood Percy, only recently reconciled with his family. He mourned the loss of Fred and his untimely death. When he was a child, he imagined scenes of his family, together. He always yelled at Fred and George for pranking him, and he regretted his foolishness for not realizing that they showed their affection through pranking.
Charlie was supporting the Weasley matriarch. His eyes were wet. He also had some regrets. He lamented spending so much time in Romania with his precious dragons rather than at home among his family. He wept because he knew that he would never know Fred the way his siblings had. He swore an oath never to leave family behind for the sake of a job again. Charlie wept because Fred was dead.
Bill, the eldest of the Weasley brothers, stood next to his wife, who was comforting him. Bill regretted only the time he had lost in Egypt, breaking curses. He was comforted that Fred's life had been lived in the true fashion of a pranker. Bill wept because Fred was dead.
Molly was soaking her dead son's face with tears, leaning against her dragon taming son. She thought of nothing, except of her son's brilliance. She wept because his life had ended; she wept because the world would never know what Fred Weasley was capable of. She wept because her son, Fred, was dead.
Arthur stood in between Percy and his wife. His head was bent so that his family could not see the salty tears that fell from his eyes. He looked at all of his boys, his daughter, and his wife. He saw grief radiating from them. He saw Percy. He saw Ron. He saw Bill. He saw Charlie. He saw Ginny. He saw Fred. And he cried, bitterly. He wept unashamed. He wept for Fred.
Finally George sprawled across his brother's body. His body shook, wracked with sobs. Fred was dead, George could feel himself dying. His soul was being torn apart from his brother's. His heart was crushed into tiny pieces. He knew that in time his wounds would heal, but never would time repair the growing abyss in his spirit. Time and fate had slashed at the ropes bonding him to his twin brother and left him strapped to a life with no meaning.
He looked around and saw people moving by, not realizing that his inmost being was destroyed. That Rookwood had murdered him too. He heard people offer their condolences. But none of them understood. George didn't belong to this world anymore; he was trapped. One half of himself yearned to be with his brother, while the other half wanted to live. His mother, seemingly sensing the rift in his mind caused by the death of his twin, placed one hand on his shoulder. His eyes suddenly pierced through walls, through the very gates of Heaven, and he saw Fred. Fred was smiling. But Fred was dead. Fred understood his brother, for he felt the pain George was experiencing. Both of them knew that it was misfortune that had separated their bodies, for they shared the same soul.
As George grieved, Fred wept. As Fred's body lay still, George's stopped moving.
Molly was startled. Surely, not both her twins could be dead. She began to weep more piteously, wailing both boys' names. George looked up at the sound of his name. Molly nodded at him. She, too, felt pain. Her heart banged against her rib cage painfully. Her lungs heaved air in and out of her body unwillingly. Her throat closed on every breath she took. Her mind devoted itself to her grief. Her eyes stung. She sobbed even after she ran out of tears to shed.
Arthur noticed the change in his wife. He was powerless to stop the changes. He was too weak to save her. He had been too weak to save Fred. He feared that he was going to lose his George. He cursed Merlin and all magic for not being able to save his son.
George looked up, straight into Ginny's eyes. She gasped, for his eyes were dead. Just as dead as Fred.