Empty:
He expected to feel something,. Even the tiniest flicker or emotion; just something. Pain or shock or anger. But standing looking down at Fred's body, he just felt empty. Numb, devoid of any feeling whatsoever. A broken, vacant shell. He couldn't understand why he could not bring himself to comfort his sobbing mother. Nor to crack a feeble joke, just in the hopes that Fred was just pretending and prepared to jump back to life right in front of them.
He looked around; his brother's and father were standing stoic, gazing sightlessly around the hall, lingering on everything but Fred's face. Ginny had closed her eyes, in a vain hope of clearing the horrible sight in front of her. Hermione had moved on to stand next to Remus and Tonks. Only Harry was missing, not dead, not yet at least. He couldn't do that to them, not after this.
The numb feeling had spread, his barely working brain slowing to a practical stop, the whole room began to blur, the mourners all out of focus. Their unclear faces didn't look remorseful; to George they looked like they were leering, gloating over Death's victory.
Whisper's filled the room; they were soon followed by screams. Voldemort had finally arrived. People began to sob, falling to their knees, some stood still, whispering in defeated tones. George caught the only two distinguishable words
"Harry…dead."
Ginny fled, soon followed by Ron and Hermione, their faces pale with anguish. George felt a flash of anger inside him, why was it them who could feel something? Why couldn't he? What was wrong with him? He looked back at his dead twin, glaring at the blank eyes which stared up at the ceiling, hating the fact that Fred had a smile on his face but George might never smile again. He knew then that Fred had to wake up, if not just for him, but for the rest of the family…for everyone here who needed something to laugh about.
'Fred…' He whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder, 'Freddie…you've got to come back. I need you. You need to stop playing this sick joke…it isn't funny anymore.' No response, George's brow furrowed, 'Fred, stop it. Wake up…you need to wake up.' He shook the twin's shoulder.
And suddenly the tears came.
Well, I think I did a terrible job, go me! It was inevitable that I would do a "George's opinion on Fred's death." Fanfic. If you read, poor you.