Il Mio Fratello Guasto, a harry potter fanfic

DEATHLY HALLOW SPOILERS! DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE EXTREMELY SPOILED WITH CHARACTER DEATH!

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So, I didn't think that Rowling really covered Fred's death. I mean, it was sad. But it didn't make me so much as shed a tear. None of the deaths actually saddened me at all, there were very little details to the deaths and it felt as if we were completely detached from the character. So, here's Fred's death. I may consider doing all the other deaths as well.

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They had done it. Everywhere, people were crying out their joy, hugging those who had survived and congratulating. The Great Hall seemed to be teeming with life, energy, hope and prosperity. They were talking enthusiastically to peers, showing their pride in being able to fight off Death Eaters and bragging of their accomplishments, greatly over-exaggerating them.

But, beyond this heavy and thick atmosphere, there was a sickly, frail one hiding just beyond the great stone walls. Against one of smaller, less greater walls, there was a long line of those who had fallen at the wands of the Death Eaters. And above and around the dead, there were grieving family members and dear friends who clutched onto their deceased frames.

Some people were wailing at their anguish, others just holding and sobbing, few continued to shake their dead in denial and a small number just stared down in complete, shocked silence. The bodies they mourned over? The bodies merely stared silently up at nothing in particular, eyes glazed over in death and the final moments of their life painted on their face.

George was the only member of his entire family still bowed over Fred. The rest of the Weasleys had ran to assist in the final battle. George had refused to leave Fred behind - because leaving his twin behind was like leaving a part of his own soul, body and personality behind. George felt, as if already being infected by the parasitic worm of death, that a portion of himself had passed on along with Fred.

Hot, wet tears trickled from his eyes and made wet streams against his pallid, freckled face. The tears sloped gently down over well travelled paths that many tears had already cascaded down. George bent over, the tears overcoming him as he laid his forehead to Fred's brow. The laughing grin had still not faded away from his brother's lips, causing George to feebly attempt at reawakening him with a joke.

"H-Hey," He whispered, watching with a broken heart as his own tears dripped over Fred's brow. "Remember? I'm- I'm holey George, remember Fred?" His tears continued downward on Fred's grinning face until they pooled against Fred's own tear ducts and gave his twin the impression that Fred was alive. George pulled away quickly, staring in disbelief at the tears that were now rolling down his brother's freckled face and then quickly realizing that Fred was not alive, that they were his own tears. The living brother let out a sob and bowed back over his other half, pushing their foreheads back together. His body shook violently, mouth dry but eyes and cheeks wet and clutched onto his twin's shoulders. "You can't die... What about the shop?" He shook his head, his warm skin rubbing against the cooling skin of his brother. "W-What about... me, Fred? What about me...?"

Fred made no move to respond, no jumping up to shout 'Just kidding! I'm alive!', and simply laid there as George's salty tears rolled down his paled, dead cheeks.