Fred’s funeral had ended and George began to crave the seclusion of his own room. He slipped up the stairs of the Burrow and opened the door to his bedroom. He began to breathe a sigh of relief at the familiarity of his room, but something caught his eye- Fred’s bed, the bed Fred would never fill again. As tears began to fill his eyes, George closed the bedroom door and crossed the room to his brother’s bed. He sat down, put his head in his hands, and began to think about Fred’s last moments; they had been together, they were looking out for one another, but now George was alone. Fred was gone forever.
“I wish you were..” he paused, waiting for Fred to finish his sentence, like he always did, but only silence followed. “Here with me,” he finally managed to mumble as his tears began to hit the ground.
Half of him was gone…forever.
“I believe misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat.”
WHY WOULD YOU PUT THAT THERE.
MY FAVORITE LINE ABOUT FRED AND GEORGE.
WHY WOULD YOU INCLUDE IT IN POTTERMORE NOW THAT YOU’VE KILLED FRED.