Five stages of grief - A Fred and George Weasley Fanfiction

Looking out the window, raindrops on cold glass, running down like silent tears caused by the rough and careless cruelty of this world. Everyday, people go about their lives like everything is fine, ignoring all the misery and pretending it doesn't exist until they believe it themselves. But that doesn't make the horrible happenings go away. And once you have had to face the unimaginable yourself, see it with your own eyes and feel it with your own heart, you can never forget it. It haunts you forever. And it makes you lonely. Just like George.

It's been three months since the Battle of Hogwarts, since the victory over Lord Voldemort and since the freedom of the magical society. Relief has swept over the wizarding world like a giant wave, and the officials are working more industriously than ever in their efforts to mend the damage of this second war. But there is some damage that can never be repaired, no matter what you do, because it goes deeper than what meets the eye or because what is lost can never be replaced. In this case, both is true. In this case, it's the loss of a twin brother.

Fred was a very special person, unique and unnerving and loving unlike anyone else. He was a charming genius, a mischievous troublemaker and an honest and loyal friend. Gryffindor through and through, his courageous and fierce spirit could never be tamed and was admired by many, though he wasn't one of the school's sparkling golden boys like Cedric Diggory. Even his teachers were fond of the lively and rather brilliant boy, in spite of all the rule-breaking he had done during his seven years of school at the enchanted castle he had loved so much.

Over the course of their shared lifetime, George had somehow been standing in Fred's shadow quite a little bit, being the quieter and less bold twin. It was a slight difference between the two brothers and nobody ever really noticed it, but it was noted subconsciously by saying Fred and George and not George and Fred. Now that the Troublemaker Number One was no more, all eyes were suddenly on Number Two, who felt blinded by the unexpected spotlight his brother had left him in and couldn't stand it now more than ever, with all the grief and regret and pain eating him up on the inside. So, he began to isolate himself increasingly. In fact, that was what he was doing right now, sitting on the windowsill in his room and absentmindedly watching the rain while he was missing yet another dinner downstairs.

His room No, that didn't sound right. It wasn't right. It was their room, his and Fred's, like it had been since he could remember and like it would stay until he would follow his brother into the grave. Nobody would make him forget Fred, or deny his existence, or move on with his life and pretend that it was okay, that he was okay with the hole that his brother had left inside of him when he had taken a part of him along into the afterlife.

George liked to think that that was where Fred was now. More than that, he desperately wanted to believe it, he needed to believe it, because it was the only thing right now that was keeping him from giving in to the madness.

They say that there are five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

George was currently in the first one, and if he would ever make it through, no one could say.

After all, there couldn't be any harm if there was no problem in the first place, right?