This is a story very personal to me, dealing with issues very close to home which I've decided to publish after a lot of consideration. Please no flames :)

Dead. Fred is dead. NO! They do not belong in the same sentence. Fred can't be. It's impossible, he's invincible, he told me so when I was younger.

Fred's always been there, always, without fail. He's always there, a sneaky grin lighting his features, secretly planning whatever prank him and George will pull next, making everyone on edge at the same time hoping not to be the recipient of the prank. He's always there to cast a joke when you're feeling down, he was there after I went into the chamber, made me laugh till it hurt so I didn't have to think and reflect on Tom Riddle. He made me laugh following Harry having to go to the ministry for underage magic, when we all thought Harry'd be expelled. He was there when I split from Michael and wrote to me when me and Dean split up. Offered moral support and offered suggestions on how to extract revenge on them. When Harry broke up with me last year, Fred was there as soon as we got home, engulfed me in a big hug and allowed me to cry my emotions out into his jacket and just listened to me. Don't get me wrong, my other brothers were there but Bill was occupied with arranging the wedding, Charlie was still in Romania, George was focusing on the shop, Ron was supporting Harry and Hermione, Percy, well he was still being a git so I hadn't told him.

Fred's the brother I always turn to when I'm in need. When I was little and had nightmares I used to crawl into the twins room and climb into Fred's bed where he would let me stay and tell me stories of amazing twins and their adventures with the half-witted court jester, Ronald. When I fell out of trees in the garden of the Burrow or if a gnome bit me, Fred would come to the rescue and help fix the injuries or call for Mum to help me and then make me giggle with his silly jokes.

Fred's always there. He's my brother, one of my best brothers. I can feel my heart tearing at the sight in front of me, Mum is covering the body and George is kneeling at the head, tears streaming down his eyes. Everyone around us is crying as well, Percy has finally joined us. He's shaking and crying, but, Fred can't be. It's impossible. I've already established this.

I can see Ron and Hermione heading this way, Ron has tears flowing like a river down his cheeks, clearing the grime and muck which has gathered over his face throughout this battle. Hermione also looks devastated and I can see Harry lurking a few metres behind, he's spotted Remus and Tonks. Both passed on, two off my favourite adults but I can only focus on the body my family surrounds.

I share a look with Harry, one of sorrow, and, understanding?

Then I realise. Fred is gone. Fred has died. I will never hear my big brother crack a joke or make any form of remark. I'll never get to banter with him over quidditch or tease him about girls he likes. My chest is constricting and I feel as though my heart is tearing apart. There are tears brimming in my eyes, awaiting release and I feel as though the world cannot continue.

My big brother is dead and I'm not sure we'll cope with this. How I'll cope with this.

My heart is breaking and my brother has gone.