Prologue
Anger was better than tears, better than grief and better than guilt.
And George was angry.
He was angry with everyone around him.
He was angry at the Death Eaters for causing so many deaths in the war.
He was furious with Dumbledore, who if he had acted earlier could have prevented the war.
He was angry at his friends who were now celebrating that the war was over.
He was angry at his mother for always treating him and Fred like they were less than the rest.
He was mad at his family who had never seen him and Fred for who they were and now grieved like they had a right to.
But most of all he was mad at himself. It should have been him and not Fred. He should have died.
He not his brother. Not his beloved Freddy, his other half, the most important person in his life.
And as George sat there under the stars, hours after his brother's death, he didn't know how to continue to exist. He couldn't live without Fred. It was as if someone had torn his soul to pieces.
The tears that ran down his cheeks hours ago were now dried.
He no longer had the strength for it.
It was like he was just a shell. Like the people who lost their minds under the Cruciatus curse. But he was sure that even that was nothing compared to what he felt now.
George looked down from the starry sky and down at his hands holding Fred's wand.
And right at that moment he made the decision that he couldn't live without Fred. He would rather be with him in death than alone on this earth.
He got up off the ground and looked back at the distant now ruined Hogwarts. He raised his wand.
And as he said his last words, a single tear rolled down his cheek.
"Avada Kedavra"
-•-
Here lies Fred Weasley.
A friend, son and brother.
He died a hero in the Battle of Hogwarts.
Rest in peace.
April 1, 1978 - † May 2, 1998
Here lies George Weasley.
A friend, son and brother.
A brother who couldn't live without his twin.
And decided to follow him in death.
Rest in peace.
April 1, 1978 - † May 2, 1998