DH SPOILERS

George can't get over his death. Character death.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter. If I did then the epilogue would have been so much better. And Fred just wouldn't have died. And neither would Remus and Tonks.

Yea, this isn't the happiest of fics.

He just stared.

His mother was crying beside him, nearly in hysterics by now. His father stood beside her, trying to support her, but almost in tear himself. His brother, Charlie, stood with his head in his hands, shaking. Bill stood beside him, his wife with her arm around him. Percy stood across from him, his face set, he looked as though he was about to burst. Ron stood with Hermione, both of them crying. Ginny stood with her face buried in Harry's chest, unable to look at the coffin.

He just stared.

He hated looking at it and everything it represented, but he couldn't bring himself to look away.

This was so unfair. So wrong. It shouldn't have been Fred, not his Fred. The worst part was he had no-one to blame, no-one to yell at and scream at and hurt.

It almost felt like a dream, like he would wake up at any moment and see Fred grinning at him from the bed next to his. But it would not happen. Because this was not a dream, and he would never see Fred again.

He had spent the days after his death and leading up to his funeral sitting in his room, refusing meals and staring at the wall. Fred would be ashamed of him. Fred would want him to laugh and joke and continue living his life. But it did not matter what Fred would want. Because Fred was gone, he was never coming back, and life was not worth living anymore.

They were all putting their memories of Fred into the pensieve now. He would not share his memories. They were his to watch, his to remember.

White mist rose out of the pensieve, and a small, red haired, baby appeared in it, his relatives all around him, smiling. His father bent over him to pick him up, and the baby grabbed his nose tight and would not let go.

Two small red haired children were gliding no more than ten feet from the ground, huge smiles on their faces. Smashed glasses and plates littered the kitchen floor behind them. Their mother walked in and began shouting at them. They just grinned wider and zoomed past her.

The same two boys, though slightly older, were sitting in a dark room with an even smaller boy. One of them was holding hands with the smaller boy, while the other stood over them, his wand out. The boys' father came in and shouted at them. The smaller boy looked scared, but the older ones just grinned.

The two, much older, boys were flying an old turquoise car, the younger boy and a boy with scruffy, jet black hair and a lightning bolt scar in the back.

George forced himself to stop watching at this point. He couldn't keep watching Fred and himself running around and laughing. It made him sick.

Then, it was over. It had seemed to take forever, but at the same time no time at all. Everyone was leaving. Soon, only he and Percy were left.

"George, are you coming?" asked Percy quietly, his voice cracking when he said his name.

He just stared.

He didn't know how long he stood there for. Percy had left some time ago, mumbling something that George hadn't bothered to listen to. George began to move when the sun had begun to set.

He walked up, out of the cemetery, and out of the Hogwarts grounds. He apparated to the little flat above the joke shop that he and Fred had shared.

Once he was in the bedroom, he went to the writing desk and wrote out letter to each of the members of his family. He also dug out the old pieces of paper that he and Fred had written just after the war began.

He walked to the bathroom; it seemed to take forever to get there, when in reality the room could not have been more that 50 yards away.

He went to the medicine cabinet, and found a bottle of very strong painkillers, poured out around 20 of them, and swallowed them dry.

He ran himself a bath, and got in. His body felt heavy, and his eyes were drooping. He would be with Fred again. He would see all those that they had lost. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, a smile on his face.

He would be free.

Okay, I realize that a wizard probably wouldn't use painkillers to kill themselves, let alone actually own any, but just pretend for the sakes of this story that they might.

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