He died laughing

He died laughing.

I think of how he died. It continues to haunt me and I am unable to let go.

A/N: I have no claims to these characters. All characters belong to the great and powerful J.K. Rowling. The only thing that I have any chance of owning is the outcome of the story.

He died laughing.
He died doing what he loved.
He died teasing our 'long-lost' brother Percy.
He died as he was making a joke.
He died.
He died and I wasn't there to witness it.
He died and he left me.
He died and he left me here, all alone.

If I was to be told in advance that my brother was to die at the 'Battle of Hogwarts' I would have laughed in your face. Nothing could destroy the Weasley twins. We were too slippery. Not even Umbridge was able to break us. We were like an unbeatable force. Our laughter is what kept our spirits intact.

But the laughter died with him. The laughter died with him as he made his final joke. As for the last time he teased one of our many siblings. For the last time he smiled.

When Percy - the git that he is - first told me Fred had died, I laughed. I didn't believe him even as he wore the most somber expression I had ever seen cross his face.

I laughed at him!
I LAUGHED at the thought of my brother's death.
I laughed as if it were the greatest joke in the world.

But even as I laughed, I felt a tug at my heart. As if my twin sense had finally began to kick in and I was left with an empty void lying at the top of my lungs making it difficult to breathe.

As I laughed in my brother's face, the reality of his words began to sink into my mind.
However, it wasn't until I saw his body, lying there amongst the dead did my laughter cease.

The smile vanished.

My mind was on autopilot.
For days I walked around aimlessly.
I was lost.
It seemed as if it were a dream.

Each morning I woke at the Burrow expecting to see him lying there in his bed on the opposite side of the room.
Each morning I was disappointed.
Even in my childhood home, amongst my family, -which is by no stretch of the imagination small-, I still felt alone. I felt isolated. No one was going through the same rush of emotions as me. No one was as alone as I.

Bill had Fleur.
Ron had Hermione. (About bloody time as well.)
And to my mother's delight, Ginny now had Harry.

And all four of them had each other. They were able to discuss their fears as a group. Over the weeks since that battle they had become closer –if that's possible- and now none of them were ever alone.

I was the only one left alone.

At the store, the jokes seemed to have lost their meanings.

The money we made was no longer of importance to me.

Without him, nothing seemed important any longer.

Since his death, I've been unable to laugh. Unable to smile. He left smiling and now I am left unsmiling. I am left an empty shell which stares constantly into nothingness.

My name is George Weasley.

I am one half of a whole.
I was one half of a whole.
Since the war, since the final battle at Hogwarts my other half has been lost.
My other half has died.
No, not died.
My other half, my brother, was murdered.
I don't know who to blame but I vow to get my revenge.
He will not have died in vain.

A/N: Sorry about the short chapter. It's more to set the scene and go over previous events than anything else. Please read and review. Tell me what you liked and what you didn't.