A Mother's Loss

It still hasn't hit me yet, not truly. Seeing his body, simply lying there, was the most painful image I've ever seen. Or was it? It may have been seeing George, sitting by him, holding his head as he lay still in death. Or it may have been the tears pouring down George's face at the funeral as Fred's body was laid at the top of the aisle for the last time. Or maybe even when George cried his brother's name, shouting for them not to take him away.


It's hopeless, really, to try to help him now. George was always with his twin, always joking and laughing. I don't think I'd seen either of them crying since they were seven. I remember it clearly. They were flying their brooms, as they did almost every day, and George fell off. He landed on his arm, breaking it clean through. I remember his scream like yesterday, and yet it wasn't him who was crying. No, it was Fred.


Come to think of it, the only time they ever seem fazed by anything, is when something bad happens to the other. But that's who they are. Who they have always been. Caring only for the other, and for no one else. And then George lost his ear. It wasn't George who was the most affected by the accident. No, it was Fred.


I still can't work out what it was that got to Fred so much when George lost his ear. It could just have been the shock, to see his twin, his brother, his best friend hurt. But I think it was more than that. I think it was that now we could tell them apart. I know that if they had got through the war, they would have cursed Fred's ear off too. They have always been like that. They do anything to be together, damn the consequences.

No, they did do anything. It's over now. I'm never going to see them crawl down the stairs of a morning, one with his top on backwards and one with odd socks, yawning their heads off. I'll never see them hide behind the door, waiting to jump out at Percy and howl with laughter when he jumped out of his skin. I'll never hear the explosions coming from their room as they invented some new, frankly dangerous, product for their shop. I'll never shout at them for drinking dangerous potions they had invented, which would turn their hair green or change their speech to a strange form of chicken language.

That won't ever happen now. Because Fred has gone. And now I watch as George is alone. He won't let his life end, I know he will pretend to be strong, and continue with the shop regardless. But he won't ever be the same again, not without Fred. Not without half of his heart.

A/N: I hope you like this, I'm sure you can tell that this is from Molly's perspective! I know I said that this was complete, but I thought I'd add another chapter as a big thank you for anyone who has favourited this story! Please review and tell me what you think :P Heck, if anyone has any ideas of ANOTHER short drabble I can add onto this, then they are welcome to tell me and I may consider writing it :P Thanks for reading!