Aftermath – Before the Funeral
Ginny
She wishes that she could stop crying. She does not cry. Her brothers cry sometimes (although they might not admit it), but she does not. Except that now she does not seem to be able to stop. How is it possible to cry this much and still have tears left?
When she saw Fred's body, she knew it was him straightaway – she did not need to look for the missing ear to tell which twin it was. She has always been able to tell them apart.
Fred's face is slightly thinner than George's. George's eyes are a lighter shade of brown, and there is a streak of grey in the left one that isn't there in Fred's. The pattern of their freckles is different. And Fred is half an inch taller than his twin (a fact which George always denies, but it is true). There is more than that though. There is something about them that means that she has always known which twin is which. The rest of the family might get it wrong now and again. She never has.
But now it doesn't matter. There is no "Fred and George" any more. Now it is just George. No one to mix him up with. Just George.
She wonders if it is wrong that she feels worse about George than she does about Fred. How can he go on? How can he be just George, when he has been half of Fred and George for all his life? How can he continue when half of himself is missing? How can he possibly bear this?
There is no "the twins". No Fred and George.
Just George.
She does not know how to bear it for herself. Worse, she does not know how to bear it for George. She hates that she cannot help him. The only person he needs is gone forever. She cannot bear it.
Oh Fred.
Oh George.
Ginny cries for Fred. She cries for herself, and for the brother she has lost.
But most of all, she cries for George.
She hopes she will not lose him too.
