Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter. Much to my dismay.
I had expected chaos. Chaos was an inevitable part of war. I had expected injuries, some probably involving in my own family. Injury is an inevitable part of war, and everyone in my family was a part of the Order. I had expected death. Death is an inevitable part of war, but it couldn't happen to someone I know; death in war was supposed to be vauge. What I hadn't been expecting was this.
Fred. If someone was going to die I was expecting Bill, Charlie, Dad, hell even Percy or Ron. The twins couldn't die. Seeing his body didn't make it real, nor did touching the cold pallor that gripped his face. I would not believe it. The twins and I were always close. I was their favorite. They had taken me under their wing when they realized I was the odd one out. Bill and Percy, Charlie and Ron, Fred George and Ginny. Fred could not, was not dead.
I continued to go about tending to the injured, even going out into the grounds to help find the injured that may not be able to move themselves. As I helped a young girl, younger than 17 for sure, I thought I heard a rustling behind me. I brushed it off as paranoia, and turned my attention back to her. It took me several seconds to realize that the last vestiges of life had seeped from her when I had turned to look. My body racked with soft sobs I levitated the girl to the Great Hall where she would lay with Remus and the other dead. Another wasted life.
I refused to believe Fred was gone until I saw Hagrid carry Harry's body to the lawn in front of the school. If Harry was dead then Fred must be too. I didn't understand why my brain drew that parallel. All I knew was that the only thing left to do was fight. I wanted to. I needed to. I didn't want vengeance. I wanted to join them, wherever they were. So as chaos broke out again I engaged Bellatrix Lestrange. It was a fight I knew I would lose.
She was about to cast a death blow when my mother stopped her. Damn her. Slowly it dawned on me that there were two duels going on. Harry was taunting Voldemort. Of course, he was. Harry was alive. Fred was still dead. It still didn't matter if Harry won or not. I had still lost.