So, I cried like a baby while I was writing this because Freddie was joint favourite character alongside his twin. Please review

"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"

George watched from the edge of the forest as a giant hole was blasted in the side of the castle and the giant spiders began to swarm up into the castle. He watched as one of them fell, blasted out by two spells joint together, and smiled – their side was definitely fighting back.

"Right ahead!" Came an urgent whisper and then beams of light and curses were flying everywhere as they met up with a group of Death Eaters who had also been patrolling the edge of the forest. Snatchers and Death Eaters just seemed to appear from the middle of nowhere after that and it was a couple of hours before they made it to the castle, just as Voldemort began his little speech for Harry to go to the forest.

"Dispose of your dead with dignity…" It hit him like a boulder – people had died tonight. He could see it now as they hurried up the lawn to the doors – there were bodies lying everywhere and he found himself searching for flashes of the infamous red hair their family was so well known for. Every time he saw a body without that bright tuft of ginger he felt such immense relief, quickly followed by guilt. It was alright though; everyone was probably reacting that way.

"Okay, everyone – you have an hour as there's no way Harry would give himself up to Voldemort like that, so use the time to rest and recover from any injuries you have," Oliver instructed. He'd taken over command when they lost Remus. Their group quickly dispersed and George found himself heading towards the clump of redheads at the end of the hall. He was searching eagerly for his twin; he'd been nervous ever since they were separated, but he was sure he was in there somewhere. Any moment now he'd separate himself from the tangle of red hair and come towards him for a massive hug of relief. Any moment now.

"George!" His mother's shriek had never been a more welcome sound, and her arms wrapping around him tightly had never been a better feeling. "Oh thank heavens you're alright." He pulled away to smile at her, and then noticed the tear tracks glistening on her cheeks and the paleness of her face.

"What's wrong? Who's…? And where's Fred, has he not come back yet? Is anyone looking for him? Why are we sitting here if he's out there somewhere, alone and scared?" He could feel the sense of dread building heavily in his gut and he knew, deep down, what had really happened. But maybe, just maybe, if he prolonged hearing the words for a bit longer it wouldn't be true. It couldn't be true.

His mother burst into tears and his father moved to comfort her and then he was no longer blocking the nightmare that George had feared for such a long, long time. But it wasn't a nightmare, it was real, and his heart had literally been ripped in half because he had always been one half of a pair and his heart had always been half of another.

"Freddie?" He whispered, dropping to his knees beside where his brother lay as the rest of his family moved away to give him some space. "Freddie? Please, let this just be seriously twisted joke. Please, please, please. Come on, wake up. I'd give everything for you to wake up now, please," George begged as tears rolled rapidly down his face and landed on his brother's dust-covered coat. "Fred, please! Why couldn't it have been me?" He sobbed and collapsed on top of his brother's chest. There was no heartbeat beneath his ear and that completely broke him.

"George, George! Wake up! It was just a nightmare!" Ron was shaking him roughly, looking pale and drawn as if he'd been crying himself. George saw Fred's empty bed behind him and a fresh wave of tears coursed down his face.

"No, it's not, Ron! It's not a nightmare, this is my life now and I can't stand it anymore! It's only been a week. He's only been gone for a week and I'm completely falling apart – how the hell am I supposed to spend my entire life without him? We were the ultimate pranksters, the infamous duo, I was the Forge to his Gred! I'm such a mess that, even if he was still here, he probably wouldn't even recognise me. If I died and went to heaven right now he wouldn't know who I was – hell, I don't know who I am."

"George…" Ron attempted weakly but it was all pouring out now.

"He would be so… so disgusted if he saw me now. He'd tell me to get the hell off my ass and stop being such a git and he would help me back to my old self. At the moment I'm trying to exist in a heaven I don't belong in, because it's a place where he is and we're not in the same universe any longer! I am barely crawling through each day as it comes and I feel like I have the biggest weight on my back which is bending my knees and killing me slowly. It isn't killing me as quickly as the broken half of a heart inside me, though. And in the past seven days there are so many times when I've thought about just giving up and ending it all because surely that would be more peaceful? I need to be by his side, Ron! We've not left each other's sides since the day we were born! Beside him is where I belong."

"George, don't talk like that," Ron snapped, trying to hide just how scared he was. He'd never heard George talk that was and it was frightening him so much. "You used to belong by his side but he's not here anymore! There is no side to belong to. I know it's terrible to hear but you need to get it together and get dressed. We're all in the kitchen… the f-funeral starts in half an hour... Or whenever you're ready…" Ron's bottom lip trembled as he stood up, patted George awkwardly on the shoulder, and then disappeared out of the room.

George swung his legs over the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands for a long moment before he looked at the picture of him and Fred standing in front of the shop – the last picture they'd taken together.

"Why'd you abandon me, brother? I can't do this without you and everyone keeps on telling me that I need to be strong and keep going but how on earth can I do that without you by my side, cracking jokes and encouraging me in an inappropriate manner?" He wiped roughly at the tears which just seemed to keep coming and dressed silently before he headed downstairs, only stopping to slip the photograph and a stray firework into his pocket.

The atmosphere in the kitchen of the Burrow was sombre and not a word was being exchanged. Mrs Weasley was pottering around the stove with her back to everyone so they wouldn't see her crying into the bacon. Mr Weasley was nowhere to be seen in the kitchen and George noticed a figure standing motionless in the garden. Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Percy were all sitting close to each other, staring blankly at various spots in the kitchen, and Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry were all gathered together having a silent conversation. On seeing him, Mrs Weasley let out a small wail and disappeared outside as the tension in the kitchen grew. Ginny stood from her place on Harry's lap and came over to wrap her arms around him. He gripped onto her tightly, grateful for the support, and tried to hide the fresh tears in her long hair.

"I… Don't… He'd…" His sister was at a complete loss for comforting words to whisper in his ear so settled for just holding him while he composed himself. Eventually he pulled out of her embrace only to be folded into countless other ones as his remaining brothers hugged him before they all filed out of the house and into the front yard where chairs had been set up, facing the orchard where Fred was to be buried. It had been his favourite place: full of memories, inventions and Quidditch games. Upon seeing the open coffin and the deep hole in the ground, George nearly broke down completely but Charlie gently touched his shoulder and George remembered he'd promised to control his emotions during the ceremony.

"There is nothing certain in a man's life," Arthur's voice rang out around them, shaking slightly as he began the ceremony, "except that he must one day lose it. Fred lost his at an age that was shockingly young, but he died bravely and not in vain. Fred loved life, and he lived it so much more than other people have – and because of that, his life has not been wasted. Death is nothing but a distant rumour to most young people, but our group seems to be a large exception to that, as can be proved by some of the miracles that have been performed. Without these miracles, I hate to think that this group in front of me might be half the size. But we must not be sad, and we must not dwell on this tragedy, because my son would not want that. He would want us to embrace life and live on as if he were still among us, which he is, in a way. His spirit lives on and so does his…" There was a terrible moment where George honestly thought his father was about to say that Fred lived on in his appearance, but it quickly passed.

"So does his name. Death is not an end because we can live on in those who love us, and in our children and the next generation. Fred was a rare person who wasn't selfish, who wasn't greedy, and wasn't heartless. He had a big heart and he will live on in ours forever." Arthur bowed his head, and stepped to the side of the coffin, where he murmured something to the person lying inside it who would never hear again.

From that point on, the speeches seemed to blur into each other as everyone stepped up to say their piece and George found that he was rather astounded by the amount of lives Fred and, due to their bond, he had managed to really touch. Then it was his turn.

"I never thought I'd ever be standing here, making a speech at a funeral, about… about my own twin. Every year that we've… that we've been together as brothers has been full of surprises – literally non-stop surprises. I, erm, I remember how the first prank we ever pulled ended up in us being sent to bed with no dinner because the soup we were supposed to eat exploded – due to the firework we slipped into it. We were four at the time, and Mum was absolutely furious. Ginny was too young to really get what was going on, Ron threw a tantrum because he wasn't the centre of attention, Percy lectured us when Mum was done, whilst Bill and Charlie roared with laughter in the background and commented on how we were turning into miniature versions of them." George felt his mouth twitch slightly at the memory but it was gone in a millisecond as he saw the coffin out of the corner of his eye and remembered he had to keep going with his speech.

"And now it's just me. One half of a whole, one George without his second in-command, one twin where there should be two. We had so many things planned like…" George automatically stopped and waited for Fred to finish his sentence and then it felt like a dagger was being twisted into the torn remains of his heart as he realised Fred would never finish his sentences again. "Fred…" his whisper was more of a croak and he fell apart as he said the name he hadn't said since the night of the battle.

Quickly he moved to the side of the coffin, tenderly tucked the photograph and firework under Fred's cold hands, and then disappeared into the orchard without a word. No one came after him and he watched from the edge of the trees as they lowered the coffin into the ground.

"Fred…" he croaked again.