A/N: Welcome to 'Irrational'! I think the summary basically sums it up: it's about what would happen if George had been the one to die in the final battle instead of Fred. It's from Fred's POV and written in present tense (which was a bit difficult…)

It's another sad one, unfortunately. Character death, angst, crying; all that fun stuff. I hope you enjoyed it more than I enjoyed writing it, because it was very hard for me to write. Nearly made me cry.

Before you start, I'd like to give a shout-out to rozepoze2000. She is a very amazing author, and has written some incredible Fred and George fics. I highly recommend reading them!

Onto the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any aspect of it.

Something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Which is why I'm running blindly, trying to keep terrifying thoughts and feelings out of my head. I can't even feel my legs anymore. It's like they've been programmed to just keep going, keep going, don't stop, don't stop…

Percy and a few others are running along besides me, with similar feelings of dread in the pit of their stomach. All around us, bodies of the dead and injured lay sprawled across the floor. Walls have exploded and fallen; the ceiling has caved in many parts. People are screaming and moaning, sobbing and swearing.

I pay them no attention. The only thing that matters right now is getting to the great halls as fast as I possibly can. The dull pain that throbs in my head and aches in my limbs don't matter. Everyone in this battle, this terrible, terrible battle, will emerge with some scars.

The ones who aren't already dead, that is.

I'm scared. I won't admit it, but I'm terrified. You-Know-Who has just called off the Death Eaters. Given us a break, for God's sake! So should I feel relieved? Of course not. Because a few minutes before the Dark Lord's voice ran throughout what once had been Hogwarts, my world seemed to end. A horrible, twisted, distorted feeling erupted in the pit of my stomach. Something was so very wrong.

I am praying it has nothing to do with George.

Percy is pale-faced and panting, grime mixed with sweat and blood covering his face, his glasses askew. He is scared, too, I know.

After what seems like an eternity of running through corridors that had once been a second home to my twin and I, the lot of us has reached the doors of the Great Hall. They have been propped open, leaving us with a view of the inside. My heart drops into my stomach.

Where the four tables used to be, there are now rows and rows of dead bodies, surrounded by people who are all mourning, sobbing, crying out. Asking: why? Why did their loved ones have to die?

I don't want to look. I don't want to search. I want to shut my eyes, to pretend to not see. I'm afraid of what I will see.

That's when Percy lets out something between a sob and a gasp, accompanied by a cry of, "No!"

I know there is no hope of pretending not to see.

Because one of the bodies is not even visible, for it is surrounded by many others. All of them have flaming red hair.

I don't feel myself moving. I don't hear anything. I don't see anything. My whole body becomes numb, my whole world becomes numb. All I can feel is myself shaking. All I can see is the heads of red hair. All I can hear are their sobs.

Next thing I know, Percy grabs onto my wrist and tugs me over to that dreaded place. Unspoken words rise up into my throat. No, no, no. Let go. Let go. I don't wanna. I don't wanna go over there. I don't wanna see! No! No!

I can't voice even a whimper.

My mum is there, lying across the chest of the body, sobbing uncontrollably. My dad is there, stroking my mum's hair, his own tears running down his filthy cheeks. There are Bill and Charlie, holding on tight to each other, their bodies racking with sobs. There's Ginny, my dear, dear little sister, breaking down on the floor, sobbing and gasping for breathes, crying out and hugging herself. Percy falls onto his knees in front of the body, staring at it as if he can't believe it. He won't believe it. He won't. Then Ginny crawls over to him and wraps her arms around his middle, sobbing into his shirt. He breaks. He sobs, too.

The only people missing are Ron and George. Ron is with Harry and Hermione. We saw them while we were making our way here.

I wish I could deny the fact that it was George who was lying there, lifeless, on the ground. Under the sobbing bodies. Lifeless eyes staring, unseeing, into the open air. His cold, pale lips turned up into a smile. The last laugh that will ever reach his face. The face perfectly identical to mine.

I do nothing. I remain standing, staring down at my twin. The twin I had spent my entire life with. The twin that always finished my sentences, and I always finished his. The twin who I made all our plans with, who I pulled all our pranks with. The twin who will never again talk to me. Never again smile at me. Never again be there for me.

Realization hits me full in the face.

George is dead.

Someone finally notices my existence. Bill looks up from his place on the ground, his eyes brimming with tears, a pained expression on his face as he sees me. Sees the face of the dead man lying on the floor. "Oh, Fred…"

Fred. Fred. Is that who I am? Because I was never Fred before. Before I was Fred and George. Is that who I will be now? Just Fred? A twin-less twin?

I don't want that. I want George.

I don't really understand what's happening as my arm moves for my pocket. Then I am gripping my wand. Then I am brining it up to my head, pointing the tip straight at me. I don't really understand what I'm doing. I don't really understand anything anymore. But, that's ok. I'll understand if George is here to explain it to me, right? That's how things have always worked before.

They realize what I'm going to do. Percy, arms wrapped protectively around Ginny, yells, "Fred, put the wand down!" His voice is full to the brim with hysteria, and it jumps an octave as he yells.

Bill and Charlie are on their feet in a second, wands both out and ready to disarm me. Bill looks angry. Charlie looks morally afraid. "No, Fred, no."

Mum and Dad look up. There is pain in their eyes.

I'm sorry.

But I want George.

"Avada Kedavra!"

I'm dead before I hit the ground. I lay with my beloved twin at my side. Inseparable.

A/N: ….D:

Hope you enjoyed it. Please review, and feel free to check out the other two Fred and George fics I have written! Thanks so much!

~blue-eyed-cow