-1Prologue

George Weasley was wondering where in the damned world Fred was. He was usually no more than a few feet away from his twin, and now he hadn't seen him for almost half an hour.

The sounds of dueling and crashes echoed down the badly-lit hallway and George was reminded that the castle was still under siege. He raced down the hall to find Lupin and his wife Tonks fighting against Rodolphus Lestrange, Neville Longbottom at their side.

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin roared, and a jet of red light shot out of his wand, knocking Lestrange's wand out of his hand. Looking mutinous, the Death Eater dived to catch it, but then there was another cry, from someone hidden among the shadows.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Lupin dived, throwing his arms around Tonks. The jet of green light caught him right in the middle of his back. For a moment, it seemed as if he was just standing there, his arms protectively blocking his wife. Then Tonks screamed and Lupin was falling, falling down until he landed in a crumpled heap on the castle floor. George saw the shadowy figure running away and recognized the slight form of Yaxley.

George stared in horror at the fallen form of Lupin. No, it couldn't be true. Lupin was not supposed to die. That wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. He heard Tonks's shrieks of agony and heard her crying desperately "NO, Remus, no, no, no…"

Behind them, Rodolphus had gained control of his wand. He raised it and opened his mouth to speak, but George ran forward and shouted "STUPEFY!"

Rodolphus was lifted off of his feet and slammed into the back wall. George ran forward and crouched next to Tonks. White-faced, Neville looked down at them, his chest heaving.

"No, Remus, no…" Tonks sobbed, clutching Lupin's lifeless hand. "No!"

George laid a hand on her trembling shoulder, tears of his own threatening to appear. "Tonks," he said softly. "Tonks, we have to go. We'll take his…him to the Great Hall. Come on, Tonks."

She didn't seem to want to move. George motioned to Neville, and the two of them gently, but firmly pulled Tonks away. She sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, crying softly into her arms. George reached down to grab Lupin.

There was a deafening crash and suddenly chunks of plaster and molding were raining down on them. There was no time to do anything. George let out a yell and ducked, covering his head with his hands. Bits of rock and wood sliced into his arms through his robes and one particularly jagged piece of frame left a deep gash in his cheek.

After a few moments, it stopped. George was buried in a pile of wreckage that had once been a corridor in the school. He tried to sit up, but there was something digging into his leg. Twisting around, he saw that it was an enormous, heavy-framed painting. He pushed at it, but it wouldn't budge.

"George!"
Neville's voice was somewhere, lost in the fog of dust and grime. George coughed and waved a hand. "Here, I'm over here, Neville. But I'm stuck."

There was a scuffling noise and then Neville appeared. His old cuts had started reopening and there was blood dripping down the side of his face.

"George…" he gasped. He tugged at the painting, and between the two of them, they were able to wrench it off. George moved his leg gingerly, testing it out, then stood up, wincing. "Where is Tonks?" he asked.

"I don't know." Neville pointed into the dense cloud of smoke and ashes. "I think over there."

They stumbled through the semi-darkness until Neville tripped over something lying on the ground.

"Ouch!" he said, looking down. His face drained of any color it once had. "Oh…"

George felt as if his chest were on fire. He was looking down into the pale, unblinking eyes of Lupin. And, lying on top of him was Tonks, her eyes half open, her gaze staring off into some place they could not see.

He dropped to his knees beside them. "No," he said hoarsely. "Not Tonks too. No."

Tonks's form was lying in a way that George guessed that she had thrown herself across Lupin protectively at the explosion. He touched her cool hand and then, with a groan, leaned down and picked her up. Her limp body was surprisingly light in his arms.

"Can you take Lupin?" George asked Neville.

"I think so…" Neville reached down and grasped Lupin under his arms and started pulling.

They weren't far from the Great Hall. George stumbled against the heavy wooden doors and nearly collapsed when they opened quite suddenly. "Help," he called in a rough voice. "Somebody."

There was a flurry of activity and George felt Tonks lifted out of his arms. "Oh, no…" he heard Professor McGonagall gasp and then "George!"

"Lupin…is here too…" he managed to say. "Have you seen Fred?"

Professor McGonagall looked up at him, and her dark eyes swam with tears. George felt a horrible sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. "Professor," he said again, with more feeling. "Where is Fred?"

She gave a sob and pointed across the hall. "Oh, George…I'm so sorry."

George looked around. Far off, in the corner of the Great Hall, he could make out a red-headed woman. She was screaming.

"NO, FRED, NO! NOT MY SON!" Molly Weasley was being held by Arthur, who seemed to be in the same state as his wife. He clutched her to his chest and stared down at a at the floor, tears running down his dirt-smudged cheeks. A body lay on the floor; the body of an undeniably familiar, red-headed young man…

George's world seemed to dim and he could only focus on the body. Without knowing it, he started off across the floor and then, as his desperation grew, he broke out into a run until he arrived, panting, where his family stood.

His mother turned to him, her face contorted with pain. "Oh, George." she whispered. "George…"

He didn't seem to hear her. All he could see was the body on the floor. The body of his twin brother. Fred's body.

Fred's eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, and his mouth was turned up just the slightest bit, as if he were dreaming of something wonderful. George felt that burning sensation in his chest again and he dropped to his knees beside Fred's head. He couldn't seem to make out any words except one. "Fred."

There was a dreadful, howling noise. A high-pitched keening, as if the world had just collapsed. And for George, it had. He realized with a jolt, that he was making the noises. He let out a deafening roar of fury and devastation and then collapsed, sobbing. He touched the top of Fred's head gently, brushing away some stray locks of red hair that had fallen across his face. No. It couldn't be true. It wasn't true. Fred was not lying dead here in front of him. Fred was supposed to be alive, happy, laughing at something George had said, making up riddles as they filled out another order form for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Fred was not dead, no, no, no…

He felt as if part of his soul had been ripped away. The pain in his chest was so great that he was gasping. He remembered the look on Fred's face when he had opened his eyes after being injured by Snape and seen the look of absolute disbelief and horror in his twin's eyes. Now he knew, to an extent, what Fred had been feeling.

There was suddenly a hand on his shoulder, and George raised his head to meet Percy's stricken, tear-stained face. "George, I…" he said, looking as if he was trying to think of something to say.

George grabbed hold of Percy's arm and yanked him down, turning his face to his shoulder and crying into him. Percy's arm was shaking as he put an arm around his brother's shoulders. At the moment, George didn't care who saw him. All he knew was that his entire world had suddenly been taken away from him in one fell swoop. The agony in his head and his heart seemed to split his soul in two.

"I'm so sorry." Percy whispered. "He was…protecting me. He jumped in front of me when the corridor exploded and pushed me to the ground. If it hadn't been for me…"

"It is NOT your fault, Percy." Mrs. Weasley said sharply. She was still standing beside them. "Fred was…"

She seemed to lose all energy then, and collapsed next to Fred, putting her arms around his still body and sobbing into his chest. "Oh, Fred…Fred, Fred…no, Fred, not my son!"

Pain ripped through George as cleanly and sharply as though a knife had just been plunged into him. He couldn't seem to stop the tears from coming, and now his breath was labored, coming out in short gasps. He found it hard to draw in air.

"He's having a panic attack!" Percy yelled, and instantly Madam Pomfrey was beside them, kneeling next to George.

"Breathe now…" she whispered softly, touching his shoulder. "Breathe deeply, that's it, good…" Her warm voice was oddly comforting to George, who tried to focus on getting air in his lungs. He breathed in and out slowly, until he was calm again.

"Good boy." Madam Pomfrey patted him on the back and then disappeared as more wounded were brought in. George once again buried his face in his hands and cried.

Then, suddenly, a cold, high voice spoke. It was as if the voice was coming from everywhere at once and George's head reeled.

Voldemort's dreadful voice spoke of Harry Potter's death. He had brought the body for them to see the truth, and that they were now all under his control.

The silence in the Great Hall was deafening, rigid with shock and terror. Then, all at once, there was a thundering of footsteps and cries as people raced towards the door, desperate to see that what they had heard was not true.

George sat for a moment, not moving, not believing that this could have happened. First Fred, now Harry…

A rage filled him as no other anger had, white-hot and blinding. He stood, clutching his wand tightly in his hand and ran from the room, ignoring his family's shouts echoing after him. He paid no heed to them, but instead moved with an undeterrable speed, pushing aside people until he found Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, their faces ashen, near the front. He grasped Ron's arm and the four of them moved forward. They heard Professor McGonagall's terrible scream of fury and anguish, and then, as they suddenly stumbled forward out of the crowd, saw the limp, unmoving form of Harry Potter lying at Voldemort's feet.

"No!" Ron gasped, his face going slack. "No!"

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked. "HARRY!"
Ginny let out a horrible scream of pain and yelled "HARRY!"

The pain in their voices was terrible to hear. George closed his eyes and thought of Fred; thought of Fred, lying peacefully in the Great Hall, not knowing that his parents were lying next to him, their tears mingling with his hair, not knowing that his twin brother stood, facing the most evil wizard in the world, not knowing the pain that George was in. Fred, his favorite person in the world, was dead. The only person that had ever understood him, the only person that had always been there for him, was dead.

George opened his eyes and saw Neville with his head on fire, or so it seemed. Then, with screams and shouts, herds upon herds of centaurs began pouring out of the Great Forest, arrows flying everywhere, and there were hundreds of people running down the grounds and Neville suddenly had a sword and had cut off Voldemort's snake's head. There were shrieks and jets of light were shooting everywhere. It was chaos. The hoards of people at the doors in the entrance hallway were forced back as the Death Eaters were pushed inside the castle by the centaurs and giants. George caught sight of Rodolphus Lestrange and lunged for him.

"STUPEFY!" He roared, an odd rushing in his ears. The horrible fury that had filled him earlier returned with a vengeance. Rodolphus dodged the blow, shooting a jet of green light his direction. George ducked out of the way and shot another Stunning spell at Lestrange. This time the spell hit its mark, and Rodolphus, eyes wide, collapsed onto the stone floor.

George leapt over him as he was forced back into the Great Hall. It seemed as if there were spells everywhere, shouts and screams and yells reverberating throughout the spacious room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glowing silver orb drop onto Fenrir Greyback's form, and the wolf moved no more. He heard Professor Trelawney's shout of glee and then, far off, he saw his mother and father pulling Fred, Lupin, and Tonks's bodies to safety.

Then there was a resounding crash and the hundreds of house-elves of Hogwarts were suddenly milling into the Great Hall, brandishing knives and swinging meat cleavers. George saw Sirius's old elf, Kreacher, at the front of the elves, yelling about fighting against the Dark Lord.

Suddenly he caught sight of his other best friend, Lee Jordan, dueling with the man called Yaxley, the one who had killed Lupin. George raced across the hall and shot a Stunning spell at the man, but he dodged out of the way.

"George!" Lee yelled, looking shocked.

Together they began shooting spells at Yaxley, who's blunt face was rigid with anger. "CRU-"

"STUPEFY!" George and Lee roared simultaneously, and Yaxley was thrown off his feet and slammed into the ground, where he moved no more.

"George, where's Fred?" gasped Lee, holding onto his side as if it hurt.

George felt a stabbing pain in his chest again. "He's dead."

Lee's face drained of color. "No." he whispered, looking horrified. "No, not Fred!"

There was a bang, and George looked up to see Bellatrix Lestrange shooting spells at Ginny, then heard his mother's roar of fury and then saw, with a jolt, Bellatrix falter in her steps, look up with a look of surprise and anger, and then crumple lifelessly to the ground.

Voldemort let out a terrible scream and George watched in horror as the Dark Lord turned to his mother. He started forward, but all of a sudden someone yelled "PROTEGO!" and the Shield Charm erupted between Voldemort and Molly Weasley.

George looked around to see who had cast the spell, and saw Harry appear out of nowhere. A relief filled his chest, along with a stunned feeling that Harry was still alive.

The Great Hall was suddenly thrown into silence. George slipped through the throngs of people and made his way over to where Fred was lying, half-hidden in a corner. He sat down, cradled his brother's head in his lap, and waited, listening to Voldemort's and Harry's exchange, hoping beyond hope that there was some way out of this, some way to defeat the Dark Lord…

And then George heard the yells of "AVADA KEDAVRA" and "EXPELLIARMUS!" He saw the wand fly out of Voldemort's hand, saw his astonished look and then, Voldemort fell, as if in slow-motion, down, down, down, until he crashed to the floor in a lifeless, soulless pile.

There was a moment of incredible, awed silence, and then the screams and roars of triumph and happiness were deafening. They reverberated throughout the hall, loud and echoing, until George couldn't hear anything but a lot of noise.

George sat in the corner of the Hall, watching the students and teachers and family mobbing Harry, cheering for him. He touched his brother's still-warm forehead and whispered hoarsely, "We've done it, Fred." And then, as the shouts and screams got louder, and the Great Hall was filled with elation, George put his head down to his twin's lifeless chest and wept.