A/N: Like the other chapters in this story, this was entered in The Magic Number on HPFC. This specific chapter pertains to my interpretation of George's view on the Battle of Hogwarts, and the death of his twin. :*(. Please review!

"George," Angelina pulled him by the arm, closer to her. "There's something you need to see." She looked as though she was trying very hard not to cry. George was nervous. He followed her into the Great Hall, and what he saw almost made his heart stop.

Angelina wrapped an arm around his waist, and they walked up to where nearly fifty bodies lay on the floor. So many had lost their lives 'for the greater good.' George's eyes were drawn by a number of red-haired people. What was going on? Had- no. It couldn't be.

His mother saw him coming toward his family, a confused look upon his face. She pulled herself up, and stood, arms wide and face tear-stained. He kept walking to her outstretched arms; he so wanted to just curl up in her lap and fall asleep, then to wake from this terrible nightmare and have her soothing words to calm him. As the rest of the Weasleys noticed George, they turned, and with their shifting positions, he could see the body around which they crowded.

"No!" Not Fred, he thought furiously. It can't be. This isn't right, this isn't happening. It can't be happening. Fred! George's composure had failed him, and he found himself enveloped in the warm arms of his mother, tears rolling down his cheeks, fast. He fell to his knees, and pulled himself towards his brother.

Several seconds passed, minutes...Reality had sunk in, just barely. Fred. His partner, his other half. Gone forever. But this was the truth of war: All those brave souls, fighting till the end, leaving the survivors with only mere memories. But those memories seemed like nothing now; as though one was trying to keep water in cupped hands - but they couldn't escape him, not when this was all that he had left.

2-1=0.5