Rain fell down drearily over a small, bleak cemetery located only a mile and a half from the Burrow, the house which the Weasley Family called home. Far into the back of the cemetery, a mass of black robed witches and wizards huddled around a small grave surrounded by many others bearing tombstones alike in design. The drawling of the grave keeper's well wishes towards the spirit of the teenaged boy about to be buried there fell on deaf ears, and was soon drowned out by the rustling sound of several witches and wizards reaching into their pockets for their wands to cast umbrella charms over their families.
At the front of the crowd, Arthur Weasley was thoughtful enough to cast the charm over the grave, so the ebony coffin lowered six feet into the ground would not be damaged by the weather. Once the charm was set, he placed a comforting arm around his wife, who was sobbing uncontrollably into her handkerchief. She was surrounded by the grieved faces of her children, who had long since given up the hope of silencing her tears. Percy, the third eldest son, stood straight and tall with a blank expression on his face behind his mother, whom he would give the occasional pat on the back, or the whisper in her ear that everything was going to be all right. Standing to Molly Weasley's right was her eldest son, Bill, who's face made it obvious he was struggling against his own tears. In front of Bill was the second eldest, Charlie, with a fresh burn mark streaking across his face. Charlie had his hand on the shoulder of a rather lanky boy, his younger brother Ronald. His cheeks were wet, but it was hard to tell whether the rain was to blame, or if he had been crying. Standing next to Ron, were two dear friends of the family. One was Harry Potter, who's hair still refused to lay flat, despite the weight of the rain upon it, and crying in his arms was the youngest of the Weasley's, Ginny, her face hidden away in Harry's robes, silently crying. The second was Hermione Granger, her bushy hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and tears streaming down her face. There was one other Weasley, sitting at the edge of the grave, his face in his hands. George Weasley, who no longer had a twin brother.
George Weasley's heart had sank into despair with his dear, twin brother Fred's coffin. As the grave keeper drawled his final words of farewell to Fred Weasley, he pulled out his wand, and filled the hole where he lay with soggy earth. At the foot of dirt pile, stood a black tombstone bearing the epitaph "Fred Weasley, He Left this World with One Last Laugh." George lifted his head to peer at the tombstone over his hands. "Wasn't it you who said that we will always be together?" he thought to himself. "Didn't we agree that we would die on the same day? Only thirteen minutes apart…" George drew his knees up to his chest and felt hot tears roll down in cheeks. "Just the way we were born!" he whispered, as if trying to speak to Fred like he was sitting right next to him. "Why didn't you keep you end of the bargain?"
A hysterical Mrs. Weasley threw herself over the grave, sobbing even more frantically and calling out "Bring my Freddy back! Come back to mummy Fred! Come ba- NO! I WON'T LEAVE HIM!" Mrs. Weasley resisted as her husband attempted to lift her from her son's grave. She only continued to cry out her son's name. Ginny left Harry's arms to kneel down next to her mother.
"Mummy, we have to go, he isn't coming back…please mummy."
It took at least ten minutes for Mrs. Weasley's sobs to gradually fall to small, silent tears. She lifted her head from the mud to face Ginny. Ginny forced a weak smile, which her mother did her best to return. Arthur took his wife's hand an lifted her from the top of Fred's grave. The front of her robes were covered in mud, and her hair was dripping wet in the rain. Her sons then took turns hugging her and asking her to cheer up. Bill kissed her on the cheek, and Harry and Ron both convinced her that Fred would rather everyone be rejoicing over the defeat of You-Know-Who, rather than mourning over his death. All of this did well to momentarily still her tears. Nobody noticed George sitting on the Ground until thunder rolled in the distance. Mrs. Weasley immediately insisted everyone button up their coats and attempt to stay under the umbrella charm. She looked mournfully down at George, who had now buried his face in his knees. Mrs. Weasley choked on his name, trying to keep the tears from coming again "G-George, we have to leave dear, there's a storm blowing in."
George paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not he wanted to leave his brother here all alone. His heart screamed that he was never going to leave this spot, but his body slowly stood up from the ground. The rain had begun to come down on them harder. He turned to his mother, who's eyes were still red and puffy from crying. He took one last sorrowful glance at the final resting place of his brother before following the group out of the graveyard without a word.
"It's so impossible to believe…" he thought as they passed through the wrought iron gates of the cemetery " That's he's really gone."