It's been a few hours. I'm not sure how many. I can hardly see, and my head hurts. So does my stomach, and throat, and every single part of me.
I don't even know what to do without him beside me.
Mum's obviously hurting, too, and so is Dad, and Ginny, and all my other brothers, but none of them, nobody, is hurting as much as I am. I can't even focus...

He never got to tell Hermione. Oh, how he loved her. And he never got the chance to tell her. Someday, maybe, I will.

The battle is over, and we've somehow won. I can hardly even make anyone out in the sea of faces that is the Great Hall - which is now a makeshift infirmary - but one small, messy, black haired git comes directly into my sight.
"Oi, Harry," I say quietly.
"George," he replies, just as quietly. Ge walks up to me and hugs me, and I don't pull away until he does.
"Er... You've... died," I note.
"I have," Harry confirms, obviously a bit confused.
It takes me a while to say anything, but when I do, I don't even sound like me. "Do you think Freddie was in pain? Does- does it hurt, dying?"
It takes Harry a long time to answer, but when he does, I know he's being completely honest.
"It's quicker and easier than falling asleep."