Hey everyone! This is just a quick one-shot I thought about when I saw the new (and sadly last) Harry Potter movie. I hope you enjoy this quick, easy read and remember...REVIEW!

He squinted his eyes, looking over at the horizon, which stretched on endlessly. The wind tousled his flaming hair as he stood on the endless valley of lush green grass. The grass swirled in the wind and his clothes flapped around him as the wind picked up, blowing in his face. The brilliant sun shined down on him and he put his hands on his face, trying to shield his eyes from the yellow light.

He squinted even more, making his eyes look like they were almost closed. He scanned the horizon, looking for something yet not knowing what he was suppose to be looking for; he only knew that he was looking for something. He turned his head, his eyes searching the distance. He looked back and forth, scanning for something that wasn't there.

Suddenly, when he dragged his eyes back to look directly in front of him, he spotted something. A small black dot it looked like, but he knew…he knew that that was what he was suppose to find.

He immediately started walking, his stepped slow and almost hesitant at first, but soon they sped up, his steps bringing his slowly closer to the small, black dot on the horizon. He quickly changed his walk into a slow trot then a quick run, his eyes never leaving the black dot, which was now most certainly the silhouette of a figure.

The wind seemed to pick up around him as he quickened his pace, his hair blowing back from his face and his clothes blowing back, flapping behind him. He soon broke into a sprint, the figure now getting closer and closer, and the wind seemed to pick up with him, yet he took no notice; his attention was only on the figure, which was now about 30 yards away.

He could now see the hair on the figure, about the same length as his, and the sun's rays fell on a few parts of his hair, making the ginger strands light up and the clothes on the figure were so similar to him even though he didn't know why. The figure had his back to him, looking away from his. As he neared the figure, he now saw that they were on a cliff and that the figure was standing on the edge of it.

He came to a slow trot and finally stopped, only standing a few feet away from the figure in front of him. The figure was about the same height as him, possibly the exact height. He could also see the freckles on the figure's exposed neck.

The wind was still strong, making his eyes water yet his gaze on the figure did not waver a bit. From the place where he was standing, he could see the endless abyss in front of him, covered by a thick, white fog. It was almost like they were standing on a cliff in the sky.

His eyes flickered away from the endless pit that started at the edge of the cliff and went to look at the figure in front of him. The figure's head was now bent, looking either at his feet or at the abyss by the edge of the cliff.

He licked his dry lips. "Hello?" he called out, his voice laced with curiosity. The figure made no movement whatsoever; he just continued to look down, the wind flapping around them.

"Hello?" he asked again, a little louder this time. Again no movement from the figure.

"Hello!" This time the figure moved his head back up and turned to look at him, his head and neck the only thing moving. As the figure looked at him, his eyes widened.

"Fred." His voice so small it was barely audible but it seemed like the figure in front of him heard him and the figure turned his head back around. Then out of nowhere, the figure of Fred fell…right over the edge of the cliff.

"NOOOOO!" he shouted as he watched Fred fall over the edge. He immediately ran to the edge and fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he looked into the dense fog. His eyes looked desperately over the edge and he screamed.

"Fred! Fred! FRED!" he screamed, like he expected his screams to bring him back.

"No, No, NO! FREEEEEEED!"

George gasped and sat up quickly, his chest heaving as drops of sweat ran down the slope of his forehead. His entire body was covered in a cold sweat and even his pillow and sheets were damp. He looked him from of him in his dark room, gasping as he tried to gain control of his breathing. He reached up and ran a hand through his sweaty mop of ginger hair. After a few deep breaths, he threw his covered to the side and turned around so he was now sitting at the side in his bed, his feet on the cold ground.

His shirt was stuck to his back and his hair was jutted out in random places, though he didn't care. He slowly leaned forward with a groan and rubbed his face with his hands, running them through his hair before he covered his face with them again, the dream still fresh in his mind no matter how much he tried to forget it. This had been at least the tenth time he'd had this dream and every time it ended the same way.

With a sigh, he ran his hands though his hair once more before getting off of the bed, the bed groaning slightly as his weight was lifted off of it. George reached over and grabbed him wand off of his nightstand but stopped to look at the other wand, his wand, which stood on a special stand also on the nightstand.

George stared at the wand, the ache in his chest getting stronger the more he stared at it. Suddenly, he blinked and looked away, moving his gaze to the wet, rain-covered window that was in between the two beds in the room. With another sigh, he turned and quietly walked to the door, careful not to make too much noise, not wanting to wake anyone from their slumber.

He slowly opened the door to his room, the hallway equally as dark as his room, which was good sense his eyes were already adjusted to the lack of light. As quietly as he could, he stepped out of the door and with one last glance at his neatly made bed, George closed the door.

His hands were shoved deep inside his pockets, as if he was trying to rip the seems of his jacket. Despite the frigid temperature, his jacket was light and he ignored the uncomfortable sensation of the cold air biting his flesh. He was still wearing his nightclothes and had only slipped into a worn-out pair of shoes before apparating away.

He walked up the slight hill slowly, his breath coming out in white clouds in front of his face while a light drizzle of cold rain fell down upon him, making his head, back, and shoulders wet which just made his even colder (though he did nothing about it).

As the ground finally leveled out, George saw the gates, the black, slightly rusted metal gates that encircled the small cemetery. He swallowed hard and started walking again, a light wind starting, rustling the dead, colorful leaves that had fallen from the almost bare trees. Grey clouds rolled above him and thunder sounded in the distance.

As he slowly neared the gates of the cemetery not too far from his house, his legs felt like they were getting heavier with each step but he pressed on, knowing that he had to do this. He pushed the gate open more and stepped through, looking over the rows of different size tombstones.

The rain was heavier now, falling to the grass covered ground in big, fat drops while lightning flashed across the sky. But George made no notice. He only walked on and listened to the giant rumble of thunder, which had gotten closer sense the last time it had sounded.

As George walked, his feet knowing the way even though he had only been here one other time, he glanced briefly at the other graves, not really paying attention to what each one said.

'I wonder who cried when they died,' George thought gloomily as he continued to walk past dozens of tombstones. He sighed and moved his gaze to his feet and suddenly realized that he was wearing his shoes, which only made legs feel heavier with each step and his chest ache more, making him have the impulse to take them off.

He suddenly turned and began to walk in between graves, stopping when he came to a new looking stone standing proud on the ground before him. The stone was simple and slightly decorated with a twisted vine-like border. The stone stood taller than the others around it and engraved in fancy print writing were the words:

Fred Gideon Weasley

1978-1998

Beloved son, brother, twin, and friend.

May your smile shine from above for all eternity.

George fell to his knees in from of his twin's grave, ignoring the fact that his pants now were wet and had grass stains on them. Slowly, his hands having left his pockets, he reached out and touched the grave, the stone feeling smooth and cold underneath his fingers. Slowly, he ran his fingers down the stone, tracing the words that were engraved on the tombstone.

"Hey Fred," he whispered, his voice strained and barely audible due to the fact that a loud clap of thunder sounded around him. He slid his hand down the rest of the stone before sitting back on his haunches, watery eyes looking at his twin's grave before him.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I meant to come but…" he trail off, hot tears finally sliding down his face, mixing with the rain that continued to fall from the sky, pounding against his body which was now soaked to the bone.

He wiped at his face uselessly, and closed his eyes. This was the first time he had cried sense the night he saw his twin's lifeless body lying on the floor in the Great Hall. He didn't even cry as he watched his brother's body being lowered into the ground. No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn't.

"Things have been really tough without you Fred," George said. "Everyone's trying to act normal but I can see through them. It's not that hard; whenever mum looks at me, she almost bursts into tears."

He sat there staring at his hands for a few minutes, listening to the sound of the wind and the rain and the occasional thunder. He eventually sniffed and looked back up at the grave.

"The stores going well, but it's nothing like its use to be, that's for sure," George said, a watery laugh escaping his mouth, although it ended up more like a sob in the end. "Ron's been helping out though. He's actually managed to work there without dropping anything so far," he said with a small smile, his lips shaking slightly. There was another short silent moment as George stared at his hands.

"They're dating you know… Ron and Hermione that is. You shoulda seen the look on mum's face Fred. I think it was the first smile I've seen on her face for a while," he said, still looking down. He looked up suddenly, smiling at the tombstone. "See Fred, I told you they would end up together. I don't know why you though Hermione and Harry would end up together. That just supports the fact that I'm always right."

George sniffed and looked away before looking back at the wet stone. "Ginny and Harry are together too. They just announced it last week. Again, mum was ecstatic. I personally think it's great that they are all finding a distraction to everything."

A flash of lightning captured George's attention and he stared into the sky as it flashed across the sky in a giant streak of branched light, followed shortly by a clap of thunder.

"It's been really tough without you Fred," George said, still looking up into the sky, the rain splattering his face, his hair plastered to his head. He looked down at the wet tombstone.

"I feel like a piece of me is missing. I feel like I'm only half full," George whispered hoarsely at the tombstone, his eyes leaking tears endlessly. He eyes, so full of pain and sadness, closed as a sob escaped his clenched teeth, his whole body shaking as more sobs came.

"Why did you leave me Fred?" George whispered his voice desperate and barely audible. "Why Fred? Why?" George leaned over so that his head was touching the wet grass before him.

"It's all my fault. If I had only been there, then maybe…maybe I could have blocked it. If only we had stuck together," George mumbled to himself through his thick tears. George looked up again, grass clenched in between his fists.

"I'm sorry Fred. I'm so sorry," he said, choking on his last word as it turned into a sob. And George leaned forward again and cried. He was incomplete; he was only half himself, his other half having left when the light left Fred's eyes.

All of the emotion that was being held in was now freely flowing out of his in choked sobs. His pain and sadness were now falling from his eyes, having being held in for too long. He was a shadow of what he was before. Fred had always been the stronger one after all. But now, he was alone with a hallow heart.

He was only one part of a pair. Right now, he was only half the person he used to be. George sniffed and looked up, looking in the sky ahead of him. The grey clouds were starting to roll away and George just took recognition to the fact that the rain had stopped and a light wind now blew through the air, carrying the fresh scent of rain. George looked at the light blue sky now showing through the clouds at one end and a slight pink color, showing that the sun would soon be rising.

George sniffed and wiped his eyes and face. He reached out and touched Fred's tombstone one more time before pushing off the ground with his hands and stuffing them back into his pocket.

"Bye Fred. I'll come back…I promise."

'And maybe… just maybe,' he thought still starting at the blue sky poking through the grey clouds, 'things would get better soon. Maybe the storm will pass eventually.'

And with that, George started to walk away, the wet tombstones standing in the grass behind him.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it!