A/N: This story is a DU after the 7th book - after Voldy died. This is my first attempt at writing anything from one of the twin's povs so... bear with me.

Prologue

"Where? Where is he? Where did he go? Why can't I see him?! Why!?"

"Fred, calm down! You're injured!"

"No! Where is he?! Where's my brother!? Let me go! I have to find him!"

"Fred, it's too dangerous!"

"Let go of me! Let go! George!"

Tired eyes opened and saw darkness, the dream still echoing behind them. Fred Weasley stared at his arms, where his head was resting. He sighed and closed his eyes again. It had been almost a year. Fred pushed himself up off the table, the lamp in the corner illuminating the room just enough to see. Fred was in the livingroom at the Burrow. He ran a hand through his hair. It was a little longer than it had been last year... when...

Fred shook his head and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed himself a piece of bread and ate it plain. As he walked back through the kitchen, bread in hand, he spotted the clock with all their pictures on it. The entire Weasley family was 'Home' save for one. George Weasley's hand had been on the 'lost' section for almost a year now.

'God dammit, George,' Fred cursed inwardly. He put his hand on the clock. His only comfort was that George's hand hadn't fallen into 'injured' or 'dying' or.. 'dead' or something. George being 'Lost' meant he was still alive and well. Then why wasn't he coming home?

Twenty years old, Voldemort gone, and Fred still couldn't rest. Lingering dark wizards were causing problems everywhere. Harry was off trying to find out who was causing problems in the west. With Voldemort dead, no one denied his wish to go alone. Harry left almost three weeks ago. He was supposed to go see McGonagall as soon as he found out anything. As of yet, they hadn't heard anything... about Harry or about George.

Dammit, life was supposed to be easy with Voldemort gone! But even with that snake of a man gone, people were fighting and trying to carry on the idea of controlling the world, they were all still working to save their friends and family, and George was gone!

"Fred! Oh thank goodness someone's awake," a voice came from behind him.

Fred turned and found Hermione Granger's head in the fireplace. He hurried over and knelt by her.

"What's up, Hermione?" he asked.

"There's been a death eater spotting near Harry. I saw a large group of them myself. I don't think Harry can handle them all. I need some help," Hermione explained. Fred glance behind him to the stairs.

"Alright. I'll come. I'm sure we'll be enough. Mum and Dad have had a heavy load recently. I don't want to wake them," Fred explained.

"What about Ron?" Hermione asked. Fred shook his head.

"He'd still recovering from the last battle. Don't sweat it, Hermione. We can take 'em," Fred assured her with a smile that one expected from the old Fred Weasley.

"Alright. I'll see you soon," Hermione said, returning the smile. With that, she vanished from the fire. Fred turned and looked at the clock again.

"I'm going, George. I'll be back before you know it," he promised softly. Fred stood up tall and winked at the clock. Then, in an instant, he was gone from the Burrow and off to fight.

A/N: If you're a little confused, I hope things clear up for you later. I tried to make it as understandable as possible. The title of the story is based off the clock in the Weasley house.