Author's Note: If you haven't finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows yet and you do not want to get spoiled, I suggest you finish it and come back here later, because this contains a BIG spoiler.


It was a joke.

It had to be a joke. It couldn't not be a joke.

But if it was a joke then why was his mother crying? If it was a joke then why are there so many shocked faces? If it was a joke then they should be laughing, they should be happy, they need to be happy.

He can see better now, moving closer. He can see his eyes. Empty. But that couldn't be, they were never empty. They were always full of mischief . And laughter. Bravery, daring, ready to do the impossible. Not empty. Never empty.

It couldn't be. It just couldn't. He would wake up, surprise them all, and they'd joke about it, just like always.

But he wasn't.

Now it was only him. Just George. But it couldn't be. It was never 'just George' or 'just Fred', it was always Fred and George, George and Fred. Not just brothers, twins. They could read each other's thoughts, finish each other's sentences.

Not now though, not ever, ever again.

Half of him was gone, never to come back.

Did he know? Did Fred know that on this day a year ago he only had one year to live? Did he know that when he woke up this morning that the next time he went to sleep he would never wake up?

No, he mustn't think about those things. Fred was still here, right here, right in front of him.

But he wasn't.

He was empty.

Laughter is always the best medicine, Fred used to say.

Yes, that was what he needed. A joke, a laugh, something, anything, to make him feel better.

So now I know what I would look like if I were dead.

He felt sick. No, this is not what he would look like if he were dead. This is what it would look like if Fred were dead. And he was dead.

Fred always was the funnier one.