A/N: Yay I'm glad you all enjoy this story!!! Here's another chapter, more coming soon. I am still terribly upset, but starting to sink into the sweet covers of denial… it's just so obvious for me that Fred survived, and even if Jo comes out and says like, Fred died the end haha, then that doesn't matter, because we know The Truth! I'm not crazy, hehe. Thanks so much for the reviews!! It means a lot to me that this story makes a difference for you! It sure gives me hope :) So just hang on through this chapter… it'll all get better soon.
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Chapter 4: The Impossible Task
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He buried his brother today.
A mother buried her son, a sister buried her big brother, a young man buried a friend – and a twin buried a part of himself, leaving a void that, unlike his siblings', could never begin to be filled.
Percy stood in the doorway looking towards the lake, where George was sitting, alone. It was unnatural, and he couldn't bear to see it. He couldn't even begin to imagine what George must be feeling, his own despair seeming so complete, so overwhelming.
George didn't seem to register Percy as he approached, not even when he sat down next to him on the grass. George's eyes were red, but dry. Percy had seen him go through the motions in the past few days – denial, screaming, crying, clinging desperately to his brother's body as it was about to be lowered into the ground, and now radiating a sort of detached emptiness – the five stages of grief, Percy thought bitterly. What heartless bastard would think of such a clinical way to label emotions which no human should ever have to experience? Besides, while they might apply to the rest of the Weasley family, and all of its extensions, it could never be that simple for George. Percy had never heard of any bond like Fred and George's, in the wizarding world or elsewhere. When he was younger he'd been jealous of it. Bill and Charlie had been the oldest, both very rough and feisty, somehow removed from their younger siblings – Fred and George hadn't had space in their little world for big brother Percy, Percy with his nose in a book and academic ambitions. Percy had hated it. Now, he felt a terrible sense of relief that he had never been included in that bond, he'd never been completely dependent upon any of his siblings, never been a part of a pair – because while it might not have been as fun growing up, he would never have to deal with losing such a connection. He'd never imagined that George or Fred would have had to deal with it either, which was why it had been so easy to despise them for being so close. But the unimaginable had happened, and here George was. Just George. It was just not a thought that made any coherent sense in Percy's mind, and he hated that feeling.
George spoke for the first time, his voice raspy, snapping Percy out of his reverie. "I didn't feel it," he said, his tone emotionless. Percy had never thought he'd hear his brother speak like this. His brother, always so happy and joking, completely content with the world and his place in it – right next to his twin. "When he died," George continued, each word stated in a monotonous, matter-of-fact voice. "I should have felt it." He looked over at Percy, whose heart broke at the desperate gleam in his brother's eyes. "I should have felt it," he repeated in a whisper, dropping his gaze again.
Percy didn't say anything, only scooted a bit closer to George. In a sense, he thought, George was right. He'd thought George would have come running immediately after it had happened, but he hadn't come until much later, when they had already moved Fred into the Great Hall. He remembered when they were much younger, it had been one of those rare moments when their mother had separated the twins, obviously still hoping that they could form separate personalities and relationships with the other siblings. George had been sent outside to play with little Ron and Ginny, while Fred and Percy were inside, Percy attempting to play school with his little brother, who had filled the role of the trouble kid only all too well, when suddenly Fred's eyes had widened and he had bolted out of his seat and raced for the back door into the garden. At first Percy had thought it was part of the game and had shouted that class was still in session, when suddenly he'd heard little Ginny crying and Ron yelling something – he'd hurried out after his brother and the sight before him had him nailed to the ground. George was lying, soaked to the bone and unmoving next to the pond, Fred shaking him desperately, Ginny wailing on the ground next to them, and Ron running around in circles on his short legs, calling for their mother who'd come running and with amazing control and calmness ordered Percy to tend to Ginny, while checking George over with her wand, muttering various spells, holding onto Fred with her free hand. And George had awoken, coughing up water gasping for breath, and Fred had cried in relief, clutching his twin, who clutched back feebly, grinning weakly as he muttered, "Fooled you," to which their mother let out a choked sob, finally giving into her emotions and grabbing both twins in a fierce embrace.
Fred had known, before even Ron and Ginny had realised that their brother wasn't moving. There had been other situations in which the twins could sense the other's pain before anyone else. So why, then… Percy followed George's gaze out to the point in the lake where, so many years ago, Fred had dived headfirst into the pond and single-handedly pulled his brother out of it. They had been around six years old, at the time.
"I should have known," George whispered again, his eyes never wavering from that spot in the pond. And Percy knew, from the expression on George's face, that he would not be alright, despite what their father kept desperately assuring the distraught Weasley children. How could he be, ever? The rest of them would heal, get jobs and families of their own, and Fred would exist as a happy memory, one to be brought forth and cherished when need be. But for George… there was no life without Fred. And it was too late to start one.