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After Fred died, George didn't know what to do. He was broken, like half of his very being had been ripped away and the jagged edges were hanging loose. He knew that if nobody fixed him, he would fade away until there was nothing left. But he didn't know what to do.

They tried, too. Tried to fix him, to mend the hole in his soul. Molly – his mother, he loved her, he would do anything for her, anything she was so important andhe couldn't let her down, but she wasn't as important as Fred, nothing was – tried to protect him, like everything would be alright as long as he was safe, like Fred wasn't dead and he had lost everything that really mattered. She tried to feed him so much that he thought he couldn't feel anything anymore, but he could, because nothing could ever make him forget the pain of losing his other half. But he smiled and asked for more anyway, because he loved her.

His brothers (and sister) – he loved them too, so much that it should make it okay, even though that love was bleak in comparison to what he felt for Fred - looked at him with pity and a hollow sadness he hated, because they knew he had it so much worse than them. They had lost a brother, and they grieved. It felt weird for them to turn around and expect to see two copies of each other, laughing maniacally at some prank they'd just pulled off, and only see one. But he lost a twin, and it was something they could never understand.

Lee tried to help him, he truly did. But the jokes, the forced laughter, the constant sadness in his eyes was the worst reminder George could think of, because he knew that he should be there with them, should laugh at the horrible chicken joke Lee just told, should be the one telling horrible jokes in the first place. But he wasn't.

Angelina just smiled at him, asked him if he wanted to stay inside today, she even made him look through clothing catalogues with her. She didn't ask him if he was okay, she simply kissed him at looked at him with those knowing eyes, because of course he wasn't, he had lost Fred, and so had she. He asked her to marry her, and she said yes. He never felt guilty for stealing his brother's girlfriend, because he knew she needed the comfort as much as he did. She was the only reason he kept going. But it didn't last.

She was killed by a Death Eater who had managed to escape Azkaban a week earlier. She had been in Diagon Alley to visit George in the shop when he arrived. He managed to kill seven people before he was apprehended, six of them random people in the crowd. But to George, none of those mattered; all he cared about was Angelina, her eyes staring blankly at the sky, her beautiful brown hair darkened by blood.

Later, if he concentrated, he could remember someone leading him away from the scene, telling him it would be okay, that it was over now, that he didn't need to be scared, the Death Eater was caught. When he asked why the man attacked there, in such a crowded place, he was told it was a last-ditch attempt to get revenge for his master. To get anyone he could, especially Weasleys and people they had talked to, because everyone knew it was impossible to get Potter. Harry was more paranoid than most of Britain together, and his house was warded to the tiniest grain of dust. No-one could get in or out unless he allowed it. But that led to others being attacked instead.

To George, none of this was important. He had lost the two people he loved more than anything, and knowing the reason was revenge didn't change that. He spent his days in his room, staring at the wall but not seeing it, his mind filled with falling rocks and flying curses intertwined with the happy memories he had of them before. But the bad memories far outweighed the good.

His family, however, saw it differently. If someone was out to get them, especially George, they would do anything to stop it. They asked Bill to ward the house, and he enlisted the help of Hermione once he saw her notes on Runes and Arithmancy. They built and charmed and enchanted until the Burrow was harder to get into without permission than Gringotts and Hogwarts combined. They made sure not even the elves could get in. They did everything possible to protect their family, because family was more important to them than anything and everything else in existence. But they forgot to protect George against the one person that could hurt him more than anyone else – himself.

George Weasley died June 23 2001. He had committed suicide while his family was sleeping, wanting to join his loved ones wherever they may be. He was buried beside Fred Weasley and Angelina Weasley née Johnson. Some asked why he would do something like that, why he would hurt his family when they had already lost a son before. But the Weasley family understood, they had all wanted to do the same thing at one point or another.