Bill Weasley watched his younger brother, a frown sweeping across his face at the glazed look that had entered into the teen's gaze.
Fred was doing it agai -- escaping into his own little world, blocking out any painful thoughts or emotions he might be having.
He didn't blame the kid for wanting to escape from the world, wanting to block everything out in exchange for his own little fantasy world. But this wasn't coping ........ this was barely even living.
Mum and Dad were dead. Ron, Ginny, Percy -- as annoying as he coudl be at times, he was still family -- George ........ they were all dead. Of the once shockingly large Weasley family, only he, Fred, and Charlie remained.
That had all happened two mongths ago, near the beginning of summer break. He and charlie had recieved news almost immediately, each with their own personal visitor from The Order.
Nobody knew why Fred hadn't been at the house when the attack took place, or why George hadn't been with him. Fred had refused to a word, and even now he only spoke when it was vitally essential.
Meaning, of course, that he'd barely spoken two full sentances for nearly two months.
Bill sighed softly as he truend away from the sigh tof his youngest brother, blinking back the salty tears that rose to his eyes.
He couldn't lose Fred, too. He didn't know if he could survive that.