The Silence
By darthelwig
I don't own the characters. J.K. Rowling does.
Rated R for death and such…
IF YOU DON'T LIKE CHARACTER DEATH, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS.
You have been warned…
This is dedicated to GhostHelwig, for the love of Potter and the Twins….
The silence was killing him.
Since he had lost his twin in that last fight against Voldemort, George had not been the same.
Fred had been the driving force behind their antics. He was the one with all the crazy ideas and dreams. He was the one who believed anything was possible. He had been the leader of their fearless twosome. Fred had goals and the will to make things happen. He had been a Gryffindor through and through.
George had always been the more careful of the two. He knew he was. He backed Fred up and always managed to keep up with him quite well, but all that had changed the second that fight had started.
The Death Eaters had taken their group by surprise. George had been separated from Fred almost immediately. George hadn't been prepared for a fight of this magnitude. He'd never been in a real wizard's duel before and had no idea what to expect.
He fought long and hard, throwing hexes and curses this way and that, but in the end his inexperience was his downfall. The Death Eaters they had been fighting were much more organized and bloodthirsty. They had backed him up against a wall, laughing as they prepared to finish him off.
It was Fred who saved his life.
He had come out of nowhere to knock George out of the way. George reflexively grabbed his brother as they both fell to the ground, but the Killing Curse had been right on target. Fred was gone.
He lay there, clutching his brother's corpse, as the fight raged on around him. He had no idea who had driven the Death Eaters away from him after that. He had no memory of anything except looking into Fred's dead, lifeless eyes as they stared into his own.
It was Harry who helped him up from under his dead brother, though. He knew that for certain. It was Harry who held him as his body shook, as tremendous yet silent sobs tore through his body. It was Harry who comforted him, if any comfort was to be had in that moment. He was grateful for that kindness. It enabled him to let go of the body.
He had yet to let go of the pain.
Nothing was the same now. His parents were beginning to pick up the pieces of their life. Losing their son had been difficult for them. George could still hear his mother's agonized wails as she looked upon the body of her child. He remembered his father's stony silence as he stared at Fred's lifeless face.
Where had Fred's light gone? Where was his laughter? George couldn't hear his brother's voice anymore. He had never known a time when Fred hadn't been there. But now the only thing he could hear were his mother's cries as they echoed in the hollow emptiness of his heart.
The silence was consuming him. It was breaking him apart. He was not made to endure such a thing.
And very soon he would not be enduring it any longer.