A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Assignment #9 Games and Sports -Task #6, Flacking - Sticking any anatomy in a hoop to punch the Quaffle out:Write about an act of desperation

Word Count: 532

Warning: canon character death

The world doesn't stop for death. No, it keeps turning, spinning, going. The world doesn't care if your heart has been ripped, still beating from your chest. The world doesn't care about those the war destroyed in ways that can never be repaired. It doesn't care about those left behind, those who only can mourn for those they lost. Those who themselves have now become lost.

No, the world doesn't care how I'm alone, how he was stolen from me, how I must find a way to go on alone. I should care about the world, care about the rest of the broken, the mourning. I should care about moving on, about making my own mark.

I don't. We were a set, a matched set, nothing could ever tear us apart. We were born together, raised together, took on the world together. There was nothing we couldn't do together.

Now, I'm nothing without you. It would be different if I didn't see you every morning when I look in the mirror. It would be different if I didn't do a double take at my own reflection as I open the shop. It would be different if we'd looked different, if I didn't see you every time I see myself. But we weren't different enough. Your eyes are my eyes, your hair mine, even when I laugh, I only hear you. I can't be you any more.

Mum doesn't understand, at least not yet. I had to do it, Fred. I couldn't bear seeing you anymore. The first few snips of the scissors were nothing. Just a few strands fell to the floor, red on black. Snip, snip, a few more strands. They fall like they were never alive, never brightly growing before.

I remember yelling your name during the battle. I remember seeing your lifeless eyes, your limp body. It should have been someone else, anyone else. Then you'd still be here. I shouldn't wish that, I shouldn't wish someone else to feel the pain I feel, but I do. How could anyone ever understand just how much was lost?

A few more snips and it's short enough. I don't look like you any more. I don't look much like me either. I don't look like anyone now. Short hair, now dyed dark brown, and I'm no one. I'm not the George they all know and love. I'm not the man whose twin was killed in battle. I'm just me, although, without you, I don't know who that is, not anymore. I know I'll figure it out eventually. Eventually everyone will stop seeing you when they look at me. Maybe, eventually, I'll stop seeing you also.

At least now, the mirror doesn't show you. The mirror shows a man I don't recognize, a man who I am going to learn to become because facing the world with a broken, shattered heart, it too hard for me. Facing the world wearing the face we shared is too hard for me. Maybe someday, I'll grow it my hair back out, let the dye fade back to vibrant red. Maybe some day I can handle being your twin again, but today is not that day.