A/N: Disclaimer: This is definately JK's, not mine.
Please Re&R.
George saw him hit directly by that horrible, exploding curse, the one that sent everyone flying. The one that killed him. But whenever he pictures this scene in his mind, he always imagines Fred warily standing up and laughing at how ghostly-gray everyone is from the dust and debris. Then he'd give Percy a pat on the back and congratulate him on his growing sense of humor. But George knows that never happened, however much he wishes it did.
After it happened, George found a growing sense of guilt and dread. He moved his twin's body to a safe place and fought like he'd never fought before, to make sure it happened to no one else. That was impossible of course, but he couldn't help but try. And maybe, in a corner of his mind, he knew that if he risked himself enough, there was a chance he could join his brother wherever he was. He only hoped Harry knew what he was doing, so he could end this battle as quick as possible.
People died anyway. He saw Remus fall, then the same Deatheater easily cutting down a crying Tonks. He saw Colin and Dennis sneaking closer to a few Deatheaters, but their magic was no match for any of them. He saw the dead and dying everywhere, but somehow nothing he did helped. All of a sudden he remembered a moment that seemed a lifetime ago, yet happened only a couple hours before.
"Did you lock the front door. George?"
"Yeah. Let's go to bed now." A yawn. The other laughed.
"You're always tired. You'd better wake up a bit, if we're going to go Deatheater-bashing."
"Whaadaya mean?" He asked in the middle of another long yawn. They both laughed at that. Fred held up a familiar coin they got the year they dropped from Hogwarts.
"Neville needs our help. Some kind of battle at Hogwarts."
"Let's go!" brightly. He wasn't tired now.
"First lets get even more help, bro. The parents and the Order, you know."
"Good idea."
George gave a small grin. Deatheater-bashing. Brilliant, really. He hit the wall behind a group of them so it fell on top. Then he shielded a few Hogwarts students from a couple curses and decided to join them.
"Hey, aren't you Fred Weasley?"
He felt a jolt of pain at the name, but answered.
"I'm… George."
"Right. Sorry. Where's Fred, anyways?"
He didn't want to answer that one, so he stunned another enemy. One of the more perceptive ones took in the look on his face and elbowed the curious one with a meaningful glance.
"Oh, I'm so stupid! Sorry. I'm Neville."
He held out his hand, but George ignored it, instead casting a few curses at a man with a white mask who was coming towards them.
"Let's pay attention. And by the way, Neville. Thanks for taking care of the school while we were gone."
"No problem." He murmured and cut down another couple Deatheaters, and then said to the perceptive one, "Luna, why don't you help out those kids? They're really too young to be here."
"Sure." And hurried over.
Neville and George fought together the rest of the battle. If George pretended hard enough, and didn't look at him, he almost thought it was Fred, but he knew it wasn't, because he was confused when George told some of the million and one inside jokes they shared, and didn't understand when George tried to explain the double shield trick he and Fred had come up with.
After the battle, he sat with his saddened family around Fred's body. He stared down at it. The feeling was even worse when he realized just how much he would miss his brother. It was indescribable. Fred was his other half, completing him. They'd been glued at the hips for all their life, and now he was torn horribly away. He felt empty. He kept expecting Fred to sit up, laughing at their startled faces, saying "Wasn't that a good prank?" He'd have that feeling for a long time, he knew, however well he knew how unlikely it was.
To his surprise, he felt the tears drip from the end of his nose. Somehow, he'd never had reason to cry when he was Fred. A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind.
"I can't say 'It'll be okay.' Because it won't. Fred's dead- that will never be okay. But, life will go on and someday you'll feel happy and wish Fred was there with you, but still be happy." It was Ginny, her throat choked with sobs. The last time she'd cried that he knew of was when Fred and George had knocked over her block tower when she was five. He felt a bit guilty.
"Thanks, Gin."
She left him. Next was Angelina, but she didn't say anything, just sat next to him, staring with him for a few minutes. Somehow, that was more comforting than anything she could say. Then he was suddenly aware of his mother, sobbing too. He gave her a brief hug. She hugged him back and he felt a little better, because he was sharing the pain with someone, even if it wasn't Fred. Like Ginny said, life would go on.