AN: I was bored and didn't feel like writing my other stories at the moment. So here's my take on how George was and felt about Fred's death. I'm debating about doing a one-shot series about the effect HP characters' deaths have on others characters. Message me if you think it's a good idea. I do not own Harry Potter.
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Seeing Fred lying there on the cold, red marked, cobblestone floor made his heart stop. This could not be happening; it had to be a dream. Percy was crying over Fred's body, words unknown hanging off his lips; his mother and father by his fallen brother's head; Charlie scattered around them; and Ginny half-captured in Bill's arms, both sobbing uncontrollably. In the back of his mind, George saw that Ron was not there.
He choked out a gargled sound of his twin's name, his legs weak, tired. Tears flowed freely out of his blue orbs, running down his neck in an instant. He wanted to collapse right there out of sheer pain and terror, hurt and bruised. But his brother needed him. Fred needed him.
It was a mad dash, a full on sprint to reach Fred; other people watching in amazement and sadness. George finally collapsed inches away, grabbing his brother's torn and bloodied shirt in desperation. "C-come o-on…Fred…m-move! C-come on…" he sobbed over and over again.
George now held Fred's face in his shaking, dirty hands. Teardrops fell on Fred's grimed neck, drop after drop leaving a clear, salty spot upon it.
George finally snapped, using all of his energy, all of his anger and sadness, towards a last effort to get his brother to come back, to wake up-
"GODDAMMIT FRED! DON'T LEAVE ME!"
It echoed; stunned everyone in the room and brought his family sobbing harder. He grasped Fred's barely warm hand and brought it to his lips. Why? Out of all people, why did this happen to his twin? How did this happen?
"FRED!"
George yanked his head up at the familiar, torn voice. Ron stood where George had stood moments ago, frozen in horror. One of Ron's best friends, Hermione stood a bit behind him, eyes wide; face starting to contort into crying.
Ron was soon right besides him, crying, "F-Fred, c-come back…"
In that moment, they were a family that was broken, a lost brother and son befallen to them.
Eventually with the Great War over and Voldemort defeated, more casualties came into the Great Hall. They had lost Tonks and Remus, Colin Creevy and Lavender Brown among others. Tears were still spilling, but not at the magnitude from before; the day's harsh events left them tired. George's family was now huddled around on benches, on the ground, slightly comforted with the fact that the fighting was over and they had each other.
George remained on the ground next to Fred, still clutching his hand. He thought of all the times the two were separated, which wasn't much, and all the fun, loving moments they shared. The image of looking up into the dark sky, looking at Fred with fear and worry before the start of the Battle plagued him. That would be the last time he and Fred would be alongside each other, in brotherly love. And he never said 'I love you'.
Fresh tears sparked in his eyes at the memories and he brought his sore, injured legs up and tucked them under his chin. Today, he thought, today was the most horrible day of my life. I have lost Fred. I have lost my twin, my protector, my best friend. And I don't think I'll ever be the same.
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AN: I hope this was good! Please review and message me if my above idea is good. Thanks.