George ran his thumb over the picture, not looking up when Angelina sat next to him and took his other hand.
In the picture, two teenage boys, barely seventeen years old, stood tall and proud in their uniforms. They stood in front the newly completed Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Each boy had bright red hair and lots of freckles, and grins that sparkled.
George remembered the day it was taken. It wasn't any special day, but they had chosen it because it was the day that Harry had given them the start-up money. It didn't matter now, though- none of it did. Fred was gone, and George was alone. He felt a tear trace its way down his face.
Angelina apparently saw it too because she took his face in both hands and turned him to face her. Her lips found his, and she said everything in that kiss- "Happy Birthday." "I miss him, too, dear." "He wouldn't want you crying on your birthday." "It's okay."
He returned the kiss with passion. "Thank you," he muttered when Angelina pulled away. "I love you."
"I love you, too. Now come on, George. We have cake, and they family is coming at six- it's four thirty now, so go get ready."