Alone. (A Harry Potter Short Story)

[Woogwoo Wren]

So, after reading the Harry Potter books for the first time, I felt the need to write something. Warning, spoilers for Deathly Hallows, and might be a bit sad.

George and Lee ducked around the corner, grinning as they left the two Death Eaters to fight the flying frisbee that had suddenly appeared above their heads.

Exchanging glances, they moved back, readying their wands and stupifying the Death Eaters before they could react.

But as they did, a giant spider suddenly appeared, pulling its way through the nearby window. George raised his wand, ready to kill it, but something suddenly went wrong.

He stumbled, feeling like something had been pulled from him. Something was wrong. Something had happened. Something was missing.

Lee took care of the spider, throwing it back out the window with a simple spell. Turning to George, he frowned.

"You alright?" he asked, moving to his friend.

"Yeah. No. I think so. I'm fine," George muttered. "I'm not hurt at least."

What had happened? He felt like something had been pulled from him, and none to gently.

"If you say so," Lee said, though he didn't look convinced. "We'd better go find some others, come on."

The others. A horrible thought sent a sharp stab of fear into George's heart.

"Fred," he whispered. 'No. It can't be him. Its something else. Surely, he's fine!'

But he had to know. He turned, and rushed away, fear putting his heart in his mouth. If something had happened to his twin...

He ran through the halls, blasting Death Eaters and Spiders out of his way. Until he came to a corridor which - like many others - had rubble all over the floor, and a large hole in the roof. But it wasn't the rubble that made George stop.

There was a small niche in the wall - a statue may have stood there before but was now defending Hogwarts - and there, his arms limp and his ginger hair filled with stones and dust, the ghost of a smile on his face, lay Fred.

George stared, shaking his head again and again, as if doing so would make his brother stand again, would make him open those eyes. But he knew they would never open again.

Without noticing it, his wand dropped to the floor. He stood there, staring at his twin's body, not daring to move closer in case it was true.

People moved past him, spells flashed over his head, Voldemort spoke through the walls, but he didn't notice. He stood there, no tears falling, not feeling anything.

The battle slowed, no more spells flew past his head. Someone came, his father, and picked up Fred's body. Lifeless. How George felt.

He followed his father, leaving his wand lying on the dusty floor. He could only see his brother's face. He didn't notice as they arrived in the dining hall, didn't hear his family around him, his mother wailing and wringing her hands, Bill and Charles, silent but tears falling down their faces, Percy, wringing his hands and saying it was his fault, Ginny, burying her face in her father's chest, Ron, moving towards them, his face deadpan, but tears slipping down it.

Fred was laid on the ground, and George collapsed beside his brother, his eyes still dry as he sat there, staring at his brother's face, willing the eyes to open. But they never did. Hopelessness overwhelmed him, Fred was gone. Fred would never open his eyes again, never make another joke, never play another prank.

George sat beside his twin, his family around him, feeling like part of him had been destroyed, that he would never be happy again, that he would never laugh, joke or tease.

And finally the tears came, dripping silently down his face. He was alone. His best friend, his brother, his twin was gone, and would never come back, however much he wished it. He was alone.

[Woogwoo Wren]

Bump!

[emitree]

Oh noes I though it would be a little thing where Fred doesn't die
Oh wells
Nice story!

[Woogwoo Wren]

Thank.