a/n: So I'm sorry if this is really bad, I'm just trying to express what I'm feeling and going through right now. I'm trying to work out the pain, and I just need an outlet so here goes.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K Rowling.
He had been kneeling on the stone for so long he knew his knees should feel the ache spreading through his legs. He saw the tears on the rest of his family's faces, but his eyes remained dry. All he felt was an overwhelming numbness, a numbness that penetrated to his very heart. Slowly a chill descended on him, leaving him shivering. The screams at seeing Harry's body fell on deaf ears, as did the cheers at Voldermort's defeat.
The only thing that George Weasley felt was a yawning void, a void which had always been filled by his best friend, his cohort, his twin. The death hadn't even caused the deep heart wrenching anguish that was expected when someone's twin died. He felt a detachment, as if he was watching the entire scene from the eyes of a stranger. He knew his brother would sit up any minute, breathless with laughter at how worried he had gotten George. Then George would tell him to never worry him like that again before collapsing into laughter alongside his twin, and the rest of their lives they would be able to joke about the time Fred had fooled the entire family and school. It didn't matter that he saw sorrowful eyes of his brothers, or felt the arm of his sister around him, or heard the grief-stricken sobs of his parents. When Harry offered words of condolence, he almost laughed telling him to wait and see, in another five minutes Fred would be laughing at all of them. He knew it, he was Fred's twin, and he had always been able to tell when someone was joking. He felt slightly hurt; Fred should have let in him on this prank to beat all pranks.
"George, honey, are you all right?" Asked his mother placing a gentle hand on his arm.
"Of course I am, Mum. You know him; he'll think this was all good fun when he sits up, or knowing him he'll pretend to be the undead or something like that." George said ignoring the worried look his mother cast at his father.
Ginny's sobs grew louder as she buried he head in Percy's shoulder, echoing through out the quiet chamber. Percy shoulders were shaking violently as he kept repeating the same words over, "I've killed him, I've killed him. I made him laugh and I killed him." The voice harsh from grief, grated on George's nerves making him wanting to turn to his brother and tell him to shut up. Instead he smiled weakly at his brother, before turning back to his mother.
"Dear, he's not pretending." Molly Weasley uttered quietly, jumping at her sons shout.
"Don't say that! He's not dead, he can't be. We are supposed to go together; it is supposed to be something amazing. Maybe a fabulous explosion or laughing ourselves to death. Not killed by a bloody wall." He drew a shaky breath and closed his eyes.
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Two identical red heads proudly grinned down the table at their younger sister, already knowing what the sorting hat was going to say. She joined them at the table, and turned to one, "Where is Ron"
"No idea. Hopefully he got too scared to come back to school and stayed on the Hogwarts express all the way home."
"Fred, that's not very nice." She reproached before placing her hand on her chin and sighing, "Well where's Harry"
"Probably snogging his girlfriend." Said one eyes twinkling mischievously.
"He's got a girlfriend and he didn't tell me." Said Ginny looking a little crestfallen.
"When would he have told you?"
"You refused to be with in 10 feet of him for more then five minuets."
"Before running off, blushing redder then a tomato."
"To go write in your diary-"
"About how much you loved-"
"Harry Potter." The twins finished in unison, grinning at her glare.
Percy glared at the trio whose voices were louder then anyone else at the table. "I happen to know Harry doesn't have a girlfriend."
"Pompous git." The twins muttered as one, before laughing together. Thus began their fourth year at Hogwarts.
George remembered the terror he felt at the thought of losing his baby sister, he knew from that moment on he wanted to be the first to die of the Weasleys so he would never have to feel that way again.
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George slowly opened his eyes, feeling like it took his last reserve of energy to do this menial task. He didn't even know how they had gotten home to the burrow that horrible night. He stared listlessly out of Fred's and his window, now solely his. He rubbed his neck trying to ease the pain that had settled there since the death of his brother. His stomach rumbled in, reminding him for the first time in almost two days that he needed to eat. His mother had tried to get him to eat the first night and he had obediently eaten several spoonfuls of a soup he hadn't been able to taste.
He lay down on his bed, resting his aching head against a soft feather pillow. The numbness still engulfed him, except for in one spot. His heart felt like it was dying inside of him. His stomach had turned sour at the heaviness of his heart. There were no words to express the pain in his heart, the ache, the void, the longing. No emotion was strong enough to express the turmoil in his heart, the utterly unbearable sorrow, the anger at his elder brother, the joy at Harry's and Ginny's new sprung relationship, the terror of losing someone else that kept him up at night.
A soft knock on his door brought him back to the real world and he slowly walked across the room before opening it. Out side stood his gangly, awkward older brother eyes bloodshot from crying, "Mum, wants to know if you want to come down for dinner." Upon seeing his older brother one emotion briefly burned brighter then the rest. How dare he be crying like this, he didn't know the true meaning of this unspeakable grief, and he had brought so many tears to there mother when he had rejected their family.
"Get out." George said so softly his brother didn't even understand what he was saying.
"What?"
"Get out! GET OUT! You caused all of this. You hurt mum so much, that she cried almost every night. If you hadn't left Fred wouldn't have been paying attention to you."
George didn't even know how it happened, suddenly he had his brother pinned against the wall wand pointing at him. "Get out and don't come back. I never, never want to see you again. Now get before I jinx you into oblivion." He pushed his brother towards the stairs and slammed his door shut.
He stood for several minutes before leaning against the wall and sinking to the floor. The room was silent except for the callous sound of his breathing. He jumped when there was a knock at the door. "I said get out!" The door slowly opened and his mothers head poked through the door, when he didn't argue the fact of her entering she walked the rest of the way in. She knelt down by her son, letting silence hang between them for several minutes.
"George?"
That simple word, so open to letting him explain his outburst and willing to let him share his pain with someone, shattered the fragile barrier of numbness. The boy threw himself into his mothers comforting arms.
"Mum, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts so terribly. I don't know if I can bear it, the pain seems to be destroying all of me."
She simply rubbed his back and at last the tears came in a rush, the tears that were the first step in a slow painful journey to the return of the son she feared she was losing along with his twin.
a/n: So what did you think? Please tell me. This actually really helped me move past the whole numb stage myself and I cried so much the whole time I was writing this.