Hey guys! I've decided to redo "Gone". I seriously have an issue with making characters OOC and overly emo and weepy and stuff. I've been trying to tone it down a LOT lately. Hopefully this version of George is better and less OOC... geez.

I swear, if anyone comments on this, saying there's twincest in this, I will go bonkers. They DO NOT roll that way. Geez, I hate twincest.

I'm still really ticked at J.K Rowling for killing off Fred. I mean, yeah, people had to die or else it wouldn't be realistic, BLAH BLAH BLAH, but FRED? Are you freakin' kidding me? I could go on for hours about how unfair it is and why he shouldn't have died. Seriously. YOU NEVER kill a twin. That is UNFORGIVABLE. Geez, people!

Um, heh... now that you've been a victim of my ranting... I WENT TO THE MIDNIGHT SHOWING OF HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 2! Omg I needed a bucket to catch my tears...

Well... uhh... Major DH spoilers! (Just thought I'd put that in there...) Anyway, here we go! It will probably be a oneshot, because I'm too lazy to pursue a full story...

Silence. That was the only sound that now filled the Hogwarts corridors. Every Death Eater had been recalled, commanded to retreat. No one fought now. They had retreated as well, to the Great Hall to seek their families and hope for the best.

But for one, his hopes were in vain.

George Weasley stumbled amongst the wreckage of the school, clambering over piles of rock and marble. Somewhere deep inside him, he knew that something, whatever it may be, was wrong. Something was wrong with Fred. He didn't know how, but he just knew.

The fear that Fred was gone was anchored deep inside him. It took over his every sense, clouding his perception. He couldn't shake it off. He was scared beyond any feeling he had ever felt in his life.

George reached the enormous wooden doors that guarded the Great Hall. His heart pounded manically with fear and panic. He rested his palms against the door, terrified of what he might find inside. Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, he pushed open the double doors.

He scanned the room and spotted his family; they weren't hard to find, seeing as they all (except for Fleur) had the famous fiery red Weasley hair. To his immense relief, they all sat next to one another, looking scared, but not devastated by loss. But yet, as he scanned through his family once more, he noticed with a heart-stopping pang that not all members of his family were present. Fear shot back into his veins like adrenaline. He'd always known that it would be next to impossible that all of his family members would come out of this battle alive, but a man could hope, couldn't he?

Ron was missing, most certainly off with Harry and Hermione, doing Merlin-knows-what. Percy (the prat, honestly) was missing as well. George had last seen him fighting alongside Katie Bell.

And then, Fred was missing. George was terrified to death at the thought of Fred lying somewhere, cold, pale, li-

No. George would not allow those thoughts to invade his mind. 'Fred is alright,' George told himself firmly. He'd last seen Fred fighting alongside Lee, and Lee would most certainly have Fred's back.

But that didn't mean that the fear was gone.

George ventured slowly forward, coming to the little spot where his mother, father, Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Ginny all sat, their eyes wide and fearful, clutching each other in attempt to comfort one another. Mrs. Weasley began to sob in relief when George approached, absolutely overjoyed to see another child of hers standing upright and alive.

Then they all grew silent.

Silence. That was the only sound that now filled the Weasley circle. They sat together, saying nothing, their terrified faces being message enough. None of them voiced their fears, especially George, because they all knew who he feared the most for.

Ginny seemed almost as scared as George was, quivering in her spot as she held back tears. George wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders, that gesture alone assuring her everything would be fine.

They'd barely been sitting there for ten minutes when the great wooden doors opened again.

A tall figure with the red Weasley hair stood there in the half light. It could only be Ron or Percy, seeing as Fred was much shorter than the both of them. George's face fell slightly; he was happy to have another family member here, but still scared out of his wits that Fred was gone.

Percy stepped into better light, and he held something unmoving in his arms. To George's alarm, tears slid down Percy's face from behind his glasses, and sobs wracked his body. Percy shifted slightly, and George caught another glimpse of the red Weasley hair on the thing that Percy held.

George's heart stopped, and the fear rushed through his veins and nerves like never before. The whole Weasley clan, except for George, rushed forward to Percy as he laid the body on the ground. He kneeled and cradled the head in his hand before setting it gently on the ground.

Mrs. Weasley reached the body first, and as she discovered who it was, an almighty wail erupted from her throat. She collapsed to her knees and laid her body across the corpse. Mr. Weasley got there next, and he simply kneeled next to his wife, shaking with sobs of his own. Bill and Fleur got there next and tears immediately made their way down their faces. Charlie got there next with Ginny, and he simply stood there, transfixed, his mouth hanging open, in such shock that even tears did not come. Ginny let out a scream and clutched Charlie's arm for support as she sobbed.

George was still scared, scared beyond anything he had ever felt in his life, because a part of him knew who lay there, but the other part, the reckless one, screamed, NO! He walked slowly forward, his heart pounding, his knees wobbling.

Mrs. Weasley glanced at George as he approached, and a fresh round of sobs broke through the anguished expression on her face. The family looked up at George with utter pity, and suddenly George knew.

His family made a space for him at the body's head. George screwed his eyes shut, and slowly tilted his head downward. He opened his eyes.


It was Fred laying there, his fiery red hair messy as always. His face was pale white and scarily peaceful, a smile stretched loosely across his face.

George's knees gave out, and he collapsed at Fred's head. He placed his shaking hands on either side of Fred's head and knotted his fingers into Fred's hair. Without warning, violent sobs wracked his body, forcing their way up and out of his throat. Grief and anguish swirled around inside him. He wanted to shake Fred, to make him wake up; he wanted Fred to joke around about something, maybe his ear, because he knew that was Fred's way of coping. How utterly stupid it was, that in the most dangerous moments of their lives, they were not there to protect each other.

Tears streamed down George's face and into Fred's hair. His body still shuddered as he pulled Fred's head into his lap. He pressed his forehead against his twin's, and screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out the world. He didn't know or care what happened around him, because Fred was gone- gone, gone, GONE, and he wasn't coming back this time.

Never again would he test a new Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product with Fred. Never again would he and Fred have contests to see who could catch the most toffees in a row in their mouths. Never again would Fred turn into a canary, avidly munching on a Canary Cream. He vaguely remembered that when they were little, they'd been up to such mischief, their parents separated them; put them in different rooms, so they wouldn't scheme with each other. Oh, how they'd screamed and cried and begged their parents to let them see each other. It had hurt their parents as much as it had hurt them, to see the twins be so devastated at being away from the other. Finally when their parents had put them back together again, they'd hugged for a good five minutes straight and refused to let the other out of their sight for a good three days.

George had thought that had been bad. But now that the ultimate separation had taken place, he realized that it hadn't been. A fresh round of sobs broke through the immense lump in his throat. He didn't know or care how Fred had gone.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he turned and utterly lost it. He couldn't take it. He soon found out that it was Charlie's shirt he was soaking.

Silence. That was the only sound Fred Weasley would ever make. No more laughter, no more jokes, no more anything.

They say that silence is one of the most valuable things in the world. People even go as far as to say that silence is golden. In a world of chaos and disorder, they'd do anything for a few minutes of peace. But when you lose someone you love, all that can change. You find yourself longing to hear their voice instead of the eternal silence that has taken them over.

For George Weasley, silence isn't golden.