Y/n's POV:
"Oliver? OLIVER!" I shout to the slumped figure at the base of a wall. I then notice Oliver's passed out.
"Y/n?" Harry's voice asks.
"Hi Harry, you ok?" I ask.
"Yeah. Just tired. What about you?" Harry asks.
"Worn but I think I'm gonna be ok," I say quietly.
"Ron's lost a brother. He wants you there," Harry says. He proceeds to lead me to the huddled group of red heads. When I neared the group, I recognized the fallen figure. I stopped in my tracks.
"Oh no. Not him," I whisper in disbelief. But it was him. The figure was my favourite trickster. Fred Weasley. He lay there with his mouth slightly ajar as if he wasn't quite finished laughing at an unspoken joke. George was sobbing openly into his hands while Ron's face was buried in his fallen brother's chest. Charlie was gripping Elizabeth to his side. Percy was nowhere to be seen. Another brother and a blond girl were also there. The youngest sister and the mother were sobbing. The father had a look of shock. He just couldn't comprehend that his son was dead. I stagger back. "No, no, no," I repeat. It was way too real. I can't replace something that was so close to me. George and Fred were like my brothers. They accepted you as a sister the first year they came in. They also looked up to me as an older sibling. I are three years older than them, so I acted like a role model. Fred took a closer position with me. He favoured me more than George did. It was a mutual respect. I was frozen with pain. Why did war take the people you held close? Why was the aftermath so disastrous? The thing about war is that it was selfish. It didn't care about how many lives it took. As long as it took enough lives to be satisfied, then it would end. It didn't care about how it affected the survivors or how much pain it causes when the reality sets in. It just takes. Never gives back. It robs everyone of happiness for a while. If you've lost someone, you're guaranteed to be grieving for a long time. George looked up to see me. Seeing his tear-streaked face cut you like a knife. You've never seen any of the twins so broken and hurt. I feel arms wrap around me. I hear Oliver choke back a sob.
"Why Fred? I know I gave him a hard time but why?" Oliver chokes out.
"It's not fair!" Ron screams.
"I can't take it!" Ron's sister cried.
"I give up," Charlie whispers. I see George staring silently at his motionless half.
"I think we should let the family be," Oliver says quietly. I nod and turn to leave when George grabs my arm.
"Y/n, please don't go!" He begs. His voice was hoarse from crying. He pulls you into a tight embrace and sobs. "You know, you were his older sister. And you still am mine. He looked up to you so much. I know we were reckless and crazy, but you were always there to reel us back in. Please don't leave me!" George whimpered.
"Would you like to stay at our place?" I asked.
"Yes. Very much so. Please cometo the funeral and then I'll talk to my mom about it. But please, don'tleave!" George pleads. I nod and hold him until his mom pried him off forit was time to leave.