Charlie Weasley stood silently behind his mother and father. His older brother, Bill standing by his side and his younger siblings standing close. That was a lie; not all of his other siblings were by his side. Fred wasn't there. In fact, Fred was in front of them all. His dark brown coffin glinting in the small amount of sun that was shining amongst the dark clouds that loomed ever closer to rain.

They were standing in a field that the Weasley's owned near the Borrow. They had decided to use it as a cemetery for the fallen in the battle at Hogwarts. The grass had been freshly mowed and there were tomb stones poking out of the ground and freshly dug burial plots. There were many coffins above the many plots that littered the field.

Fred's twin brother, George was standing alongside the coffin; shoulders stiff, and tears silently creeping down his face. Charlie, too, had a tear stained face. His left arm was torn to shreds – a wound from the battle that had occurred at Hogwarts two weeks beforehand. Charlie had refused treatment for the wound, merely casting a spell to cease the bleeding – a flesh wound meant nothing to Charlie as he had watched his family mourn the loss of Fred.

The Weasleys weren't the only wizards in black robes that day, nor was Fred the only man cut before his prime. Charlie cast his gaze around, seeing the friends and family members others had lost. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin lay in two matching black coffins to Fred's right and a young boy who had gone to school with Ginny was to the right of them. There were several others who had lay their lives on the line for the battle, all in similar looking boxes surrounded by loved ones.

The Weasley Family knew that after Fred, George adored his older brother Charlie. He had taught the twins how to fly, how to pull the best pranks and most importantly for boys when they were younger how to talk to girls. Molly tapped Charlie on the hand. He looked down at her; her eyes bright red and a silent plea for Charlie to comfort his brother. Charlie silently moved in front of his family, placing his swollen hand on George's shoulder. George immediately swung his body into his older brother, embracing him around the stomach in loud howls of tears and anguish. Charlie heard his mother begin to sob again as he drew his arms around George's shoulders and did all he felt was necessary; comfort.

The two brothers cried together in front of the fallen Weasley's coffin for what felt like an eternity. Just as George's tears had become less ferocious, Bill, Arthur and Ron raised their wands in a large arch, lifting Fred's coffin high in the air. George began to sob again as Charlie raised his wand, assisting in the burial of Fred. Charlie watched as George tried to raise his arm too but it fell limply at his side, all of his energy gone towards the tears that had been shed.

Charlie took his brothers hand and helped George point his wand to Fred's coffin. The green light that the rest of the Weasley men were pointing at the coffin was overpowered by the bright gold stream that was now emanating from George's wand. It encased the entire coffin and, at Arthur's hand movement, Charlie, Bill and Ron lowered their wands, allowing George to place his twin to rest.

The rest of the service was less subdued; tears from friends, family and acquaintances all shed tears for the recently departed – none more so than George. In an effort to comfort his younger brother, Charlie extended his hand after Fred had been placed in his plot and held George's hand through the remainder of the ceremony.

The remarkable thing was that George, in an uncharacteristic and unmanly gesture, refused to let go of his brother's hand until they had reached the Burrow again.