A/N: Here's part two! This one is the shortest; sorry.

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it.

Part Two: To Know, To Understand

George didn't know what he was seeing.

Well, either that or he just didn't understand what he was seeing. There is a difference between knowing and understanding, you know. Like, for example, George knew he was seeing his family huddled around a spot on the ground. He knew they were all sobbing over a body on the floor. He knew someone must be dead. That he knew for a fact. However, he didn't understand it at all. No matter how much his brain tried to put two and two together, he couldn't come up with an answer. It just didn't make any sense. One of the Weasley's just couldn't be dead. It was an impossibility. Unreal.

No matter how hard he tried, he didn't understand how the body could just be lying on the ground like that. He couldn't and wouldn't understand it. Couldn't and wouldn't accept it.

Which just made it all the more worse when he saw whose body was on the ground.

For a moment, he didn't feel anything at all. He didn't feel a thing when he saw that the body lying there was Fred's. His twin's. Dead. It wasn't that he didn't care. No, he jut didn't feel anything at all. Like his whole entire body and mind had just suddenly gone numb. Like his brain shut off and refused to comprehend what it was seeing.

Then his brain began to work again, but only slightly. He saw his family, who saw him. They all looked devastated. Was it because of their loss? Or because George was nearly the exact replica of the dead Weasley? The one they would have to live with for the rest of their lives; a constant reminder of the one they had lost? George didn't know. He was still numb, and this was still unreal. He saw blood, he saw tears. He saw Fred's face. Smiling.

He didn't know what happened to his brain after that. It seemed to turn back on, but it still didn't seem to be working correctly. Like the gears in his head were turning the wrong way, making all his thoughts backwards. He saw his dead brother smiling. Smiling at him.

George smiled, too.

Then he laughed.

"Nice one, Fred!" The twenty year-old nearly had to shout to be heard over the combined noise of the Great Hall, which was mostly composed of sobbing. His family all looked up at him. Hurt in their eyes. And fear. And confusion.

George continued, not even acknowledging anyone else. He laughed harder. A bizarre, sick, twisted laugh. But it wasn't George's fault. His brain wasn't working properly. This was all he knew how to do.

"Very funny! You can get up now! Joke's over! You've got everyone worried, you arse!" George began to laugh some more. He was getting strange looks, as well as extremely fearful looks. But George didn't care. He kept talking. "C'mon, it's not funny anymore, Fred! This is getting ridiculous. Get up…"

But then something else wired itself in his brain. Ridiculous. It sounded so familiar. Then George started laughing harder. "So, it's a boggart, is it? Well then someone get rid of it! What's the big deal?"

Once again, he was getting looks of all types. Some of his family began to weep even harder. But George still didn't understand. He knew. He just didn't understand.

Then the gears in his head began to work again, but they were whirling much too fast.

George didn't know what he was doing. But next thing he knew, he was on his knees next to Fred, grasping onto his shoulders with a firm grip. Then he was yelling. Screaming into those lifeless eyes. "Fred, it's not funny! Get up! DAMMIT, FRED, GET UP! WHY WON'T YOU GET UP? WAKE UP! WAKE U-"

He felt another firm grasp on his own shoulders. He was roughly being pulled to his feet. But he was still angry. Angry at his twin. Angry for pulling such a cruel joke on his family. Angry at-

Someone slapped him across the face.

The world seemed to stand still. George's cheek was throbbing. The universe had frozen. All was quiet.

George looked up into the weather-beaten face of Charlie. He didn't say a word. The look on his face was enough.

George broke down into tears. He finally understood. Fred was dead.

Charlie clutched on tight to his little brother. They cried together.

A/N: Poor George.

Review please? :)

~blue-eyed-cow