A piece of parchment

Chapter 4

Chapter 4-

Why does life have to be so... ANNOYING?! Why does life have to completely demolish the only good opportunities you get? Why does life make you scream, cry, and most of all, feel broken?

The only chance I had... the only opportunity to make one good thing out of my life has gone...

You might be wondering what I'm talking about; I am no longer solely talking about Fred but am now also talking about Angelina.

***

I could hear Dad's heavy footsteps walking along the creaky floorboards from downstairs.

His deep, loud voice could be heard from my bedroom; he was talking about some Death Eaters who were found in Diagon Alley, and were immediately sent to Azkaban prison.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, anyone found to be a Death Eater got sent to Azkaban straight away, they didn't even have a hearing!

But, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Serves those bloody gits right for helping You-Know-Who and killing loads of innocent people.

And did you know that they killed over 200 muggles?! They're sick, evil... cruel... twisted...

I could have written an entire novel on how disgustingly sick they were, and I still wouldn't have finished.

Anyway, back to reality.

Mum and Dad's conversation went on for another twenty minutes, so I decided not to eavesdrop and to actually make myself look respectable.

My eyes were red and puffy because of my uncontrollable crying, so I went to the bathroom, to the sink and quickly washed my face with cold water.

The mirror above the sink showed a sad boy... a lonely boy. My reflection didn't surprise me though, I'd received enough comments from my family validating how miserable I looked.

It wasn't my fault my twin's dead though, was it?

I grabbed the nearest towel and started dabbing my face dry. Hoping that my eyes would look less puffy and red, I walked out of the bathroom and stepped into my bedroom. Well, almost...

As I was about to put my foot down, I heard a piercing shriek coming from the room only a few doors away. It was Harry's and Ginny's room.

"Ow! Those stupid- OW!" cried a familiar voice. Ginny's voice.

"Ginny! Are you okay? And what is that?" said Harry; he sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

Wondering what on earth was going on, I walked towards the door, ready to turn the knob and see what they were talking about...

But then I paused.

"It's one of those stupid Punching Plant things, you know. Fred and George invented them." giggled Ginny.

"I feel really sorry for George. Everyone acts like they know what he's feeling like, but I don't think anyone is going through the pain he is going through." said Harry.

Wow. Someone actually knows that I feel terrible... really terrible...

You would probably think I would be happy at the fact that at least someone understands, but no...

I found myself crouched down, head in my hands, tears pouring down my face like a waterfall.

I was so drowned in my thoughts that, surprisingly enough, I didn't actually realise that I was crying.

I was crying like this because I had heard Fred's name. Seriously? I couldn't even hear his name without almost having a breakdown!

Oh no, Harry and Ginny must have heard me crying. I thought, causing me to quickly stand up and make a run for my room.

But I wasn't quick enough; they had caught up with me when I was halfway to my room. Pinning down my arms and slowly steering me into their room, they carefully sat me down onto their bed, and began to -rather awkwardly, might I add- comfort me.

Their words were silent. My ears just couldn't take in what they were saying. All I could hear were my thoughts swirling round my head.

"George? George."

I was suddenly forced back into reality and opened my eyes to see Ginny staring at me.

She obviously knew she couldn't say anything to comfort me, so after a couple of silent minutes she hugged me instead.

My vision became blurry as I cried into her shoulder. Once I had held more control over myself and managed to stifle my sobs, I could hear a little sniffle, and realised Ginny was crying too.

When we finally pulled apart, she kissed me on the cheek and stood up next to Harry.

Standing there, in the spotlight of the dim lightbulb hanging on the ceiling, a couple of tears were visible rolling down her pale cheeks. When she noticed the tears, she instantly wiped them off and smiled reassuringly as if nothing had happened.

Ginny was always the strongest out of all my siblings, yet the youngest.

As I stood up to make my way out of the room, Harry gently patted me on the shoulder and said, "You'll be alright, mate. You'll see."

And with that I felt a little bit better better; just a little. I smiled weakly back at him, and began to walk out of the door.

But as my feet walked a few steps away from their room, I heard a sniff, a sob... a cry.

I cautiously looked through the crack in the door, careful not to be heard, and there Ginny was.

She was crying.

She was crying, because of those bloody Death Eaters.

She was crying, because one of those bloody Death Eaters have killed Fred...

And I remember thinking, if I ever found the killer of Fred... I would not suppress the urge to seriously harm them, and make them realise the pain they've put this family through.

No, actually. In that single moment, standing outside of Ginny's room and witnessing her strong and brave facade collapse right before my very eyes, I remember thinking a much more extreme solution.

Kill them.