Sick Of Losing Soulmates // George Weasley

During

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　Aggie　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

It had been coming for a long time. 

We all knew it. It was pointless denying it. And, truth be told, we were more than ready. Eager, in fact. 

Ron, Harry and Hermione had been gone for so long. We had been forced into hiding for so long, we knew it was a mere matter of time before we would fight. 

Of course we were apprehensive, the fear and the dread constantly looming over us; in hiding we had nothing to think about other than the inevitable fight. The inescapable reality lingering over our heads. A ticking time bomb, just waiting to erupt. We were scared, but we were ready. ready to face the Dark Lord. Ready to lay down our lives, to fight the good fight. 

We'd been a part of the order from the moment we were permitted. A war was looming, and we were going to fight until the end. 

The possibility of loss of life constantly dawned on us, we thought we were prepared, knowing it was likely we wouldn't all survive. But, nothing can truly prepare you, can it? Nothing can prepare you for the reality of loss, not until you face it, until you experience it head on, until you're staring at the lifeless body of somebody you love so much - you can never truly prepare yourself. The grief that consumes you as reality sets in, that you'll never see them again, never hear their voice, never laugh with them, is unbearable. A feeling that one can never, ever prepare themselves for; no matter how much time they have to try. 

I don't know how I had been naive enough to think it wouldn't be one of us. How had I been so stupid to be so hopeful? Simply, I couldn't decipher a world without George and Fred. My two best friends, the twin brothers, two people who'd known nothing but each other, spent every day together, who had a bond like no other. Never would I have thought I would be stepping out of battle with only one of them by my side, one half of the two gone forever, taking with him a little piece of both of us. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Great Hall had been packed with people. green and red flashes illuminating the room, clatters of bodies falling, screams of terror, cries of pain, wails of suffering and loss. Every person in that room was just as determined as the next. Both sides equally as eager to win. No matter where you looked duels were being fought, spells being cast. Fred, George and I had abandoned our defensive positions, knowing that evil had infiltrated the castle and that we needed to be there to fight. The three of us lost each other amongst the thick of the crowd, each too immersed in our own battles to focus on anything else. It wasn't until the voice of the Dark Lord, ear piercing, deafening, bounced between the walls of the castle, that the Death Eaters dropped their defences and fled. 

A fleeting feeling of relief washed over me, knowing we would have a moment to gather ourselves before the fight resumed. This feeling was most short lived however, as I became faced with reality, relief dissipating to dread, knowing now was the time to greet grief, now was the moment to face the loss of friends and family - to finally learn who hadn't made it. 

My eyes quickly scanned the room, desperate to meet the eyes of the twins'. Immediately George's gaze caught my attention, again, the briefest feeling of relief washing over me as our eyes met, his face, too, momentarily relaxing. I hurried over to him, running into his arms, breathing in his scent as he hugged me tightly to his chest. 

"You're okay," I whispered, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. 

"Can't get rid of me that easy, Aggie," He responded, his tone just as hushed as mine.

Seconds later, we pulled apart, the same thought playing on both of our minds.

"Where's Fred?"

I didn't think either of us had really wanted to find out the answer. His lack of presence all too telling. It was then, the wails of Mrs Weasley echoed around the hall, shattering my heart with realisation. We rushed to the source of the sound, met by every single member of the Weasley family huddled over a body. I didn't want to believe it. It couldn't be. There was no way. 

My heart stopped beating in my chest as the bodies parted, allowing me a glimpse of my lifeless best friend that lay on the floor. Everything around me went silent, unwillingly dropping to my knees, an involuntary scream falling from my lips. This was true agony. My body was covered in injuries from the fight, but nothing, nothing compared to the agony of seeing Fred Weasley laying dead on the cold, concrete floor of the place we had made hundreds of memories. 

My best friend. A man who had been like a brother to me, who had been there for me ever since I had met him nine years ago, lifeless, gone. There were no words to describe the pain. It was unfathomable.

I crawled over to him, laying my body over his. 

"No. No. N-n-o. NO. He's not gone, he can't be," I sobbed, having to fight the urge to be sick. My hands found their way to his shoulders, shaking him, begging him to just wake up. He wasn't dead. He wasn't. This was a prank, a sick, long-winded prank. Fred couldn't be gone, I couldn't live without him, we couldn't live without him -

In my moment of grief I had completely forgotten about the presence of anyone else. It wasn't until the devastating roar of George's sobs, followed by his collapse onto his brother, that brought me back to reality. I hadn't thought it could be possible for my heart to break any more, but watching George cry for his brother, distraught over the loss of his best friend, his other half, the person that knew him more than anyone or anything, destroyed me. 

The heart left beating inside my chest was merely a fragment of its previous form, for, a piece of it died with Fred Weasley, and the rest was sat tightly in George's chest, thus, breaking even more - for him. 

I clambered over to George, pulling the weight of his body into me as he weeped. His head lay on my chest as I rubbed soothing circles onto his back, my fingers tangled in his hair. His body shook uncontrollably, convulsing as he hyperventilated, tears soaking my t-shirt. 

I could no longer bare to look at Fred, the ghost of his final laugh still haunting his features. An overwhelming, ineffable emotion swelled inside of me, even in death he was joyous. I couldn't comprehend that we now had to face a lifetime without him, a lifetime without his joy.

None of it felt real. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───