A/N: Don't own Harry Potter.

I came up with this idea as I was writing a chapter for one of my other stories. Thanks for reading :]

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was closed for the day, as it had been on this day last year, and would be every year following it. It was hard enough keeping the shop open at all without Fred's input and smiling face; May 2 was a day that George couldn't put on a smile and sell everyone his joke products. Instead, he kept the open sign flipped to close and sat in his apartment above the shop. He couldn't bring himself to cry. It wasn't what Fred would have wanted, and he had spent a lot of time crying during the past 2 years anyways.

He couldn't believe that it had been exactly two years since Fred had died, at the Hogwarts battle. He sometimes still dreamed of the moment he'd seen him fall to the ground, his last laugh still on his face; the day George's other half left him forever. He hated May 2, with everything he had inside of him.

He was staring at the TV and eating a turkey sandwich when the phone ring. It was bound to be his mother, who didn't and would never understand that on this day and a few others he wanted to be left alone. George groaned and rolled over, knowing it would just be worse if he ignored her and didn't answer the phone.

"Hullo?" He answered, waiting for his mother to ask him how he was and if he needed anything. Her voice would be thick with tears and George would feel a lump rising in his throat.

"George! It's Mum, you have to get down to St. Mungo's right away!" Molly Weasley exclaimed into the phone.

Instantly, George sat up and was at alert. One of his deepest, most unspoken fears was coming true. Dad was sick, Ron was hurt, someone in his family had died. He never voiced his fears, because he always put on the brave face, the fake laugh, told jokes to cover up the fact that he was terrified that he would lose everyone else he loved the way he had lost Fred.

"What's wrong?" He asked in a high, panicked voice. "Who's hurt? What happened?" He jumped up and started to shove his feet into his shoes.

"What? Oh, sweetheart, nothing's wrong...Fleur had the baby! A little girl...she's absolutely precious."

George let out an audible sigh of relief and slowed down. Nothing was wrong, in fact, something was right. But this baby...she was born on May 2, 2000. "A girl." George said quietly. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, Georgie. See you soon." Molly hung up the phone.

George ran his hands through his red hair, sighed and leaned against the wall. As excited as he was for Bill and Fleur, it was strange, her being born on this day. Was it someone saying that good things had come out of the battle, and out of the heartache? Or was it just a sad coincidence, something that would make this day bittersweet for the rest of his life? He shrugged his shoulders, pulled on a light sweater, and apparated to St. Mungo's.

After he got through the lobby, he found himself standing outside of a hospital room. Ron, Ginny and Bill were sitting around the bed, looking down at the small bundle of blankets in Fleur's arms. Arthur had his arm around Molly, who noticed George standing in the hallway looking in at them.

"George! Come in and meet your niece." Molly went outside and lead him in by the arm. "How are you?"

George ignored her question, knowing that in the excitement of the birth of her first grandchild, the importance of this day had most likely slipped her mind, or at least taken a backseat. He stepped forward to get a good look at the baby, and Fleur smiled and handed her to him.

It was love at first sight. Molly had been right-she was precious. Not that he was an expert, but she was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen, with skin that had a soft pink color to it and rosy lips. She had a little bit of hair that was a bright red color, and George smiled at it. "Well, she's a Weasley." He said quietly, and everyone around him chuckled. The baby was sleeping soundly in his arms, and George realized he had never felt like this before. He didn't feel the need to make a joke to break the silence in the room, or say something rude that he alone would find funny. Why would he need to make a joke when he was holding the whole world in his arms? "Hey, you. I'm Uncle George and we're gonna be really good friends," he whispered in a teasing voice. George felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around and saw Bill. With a little bit of reluctance, he handed the baby back to Fleur, who cradled her close.

"Hey, bro." Bill said hugging George tightly. Bill had always been fairly close with Fred and George, but he had become even more protective over him after Fred had died. George had found that Bill, who was his eldest brother, understood him like few others really did. When they were done hugging, a nurse came in and told them all that Fleur and the baby needed their rest and that they could back later. After many loud sighs and then some disgruntled goodbyes to the baby, Ron, Ginny, Molly and Arthur walked out of the room.

"You can stay, of course," the nurse said to Bill, but he looked at Fleur.

"Sweetie, would it be okay if I went and got a cup of coffee with George? I want you to get some sleep anyways."

"Yes, that's fine." Fleur said with a sleepy smile, her eyes starting to droop.

"Let's go then." Bill said to George, and the two brothers started walking down the hallway, heading towards the cafeteria.

"Congratulations, Bill, she's beautiful. She's perfect," George said, smiling over at his brother.

"She really is. We're over the moon for her already," Bill said with a wry smile. As they continued to walk in silence, he turned to George and said seriously, "You know, I haven't forgotten what day it is. How are you holding up?"

They turned the corner and entered the cafeteria, got two cups of coffee and sat down at a table before George decided to answer. "Truthfully? Not that great. Although meeting my niece for the first time helped a lot." George said quietly. "I just feel like half of me is gone, and I've felt like this for two years. It gets a little old. I haven't been the same since he died and..." George stopped. "This should be one of the happiest days of your life and I'm ruining it."

"You are not ruining it. But I hope you know, we all still miss Fred. He was incredibly important to all of us, just like you are." Bill took a drink and then he said, "This day is bittersweet for all of us, because we all miss Fred, and Remus and Tonks, and everyone else who died that day, very much. But I think it's important to think of what they all died for. They all died for our freedom, so that we could conquer Lord Voldemort. You know what we named the baby, in honor of that?"

George looked up, ashamed to admit that there were tears in his eyes. "What is her name?"

"Victoire. It means victory, in french."

Three years later

"Uncle George, Uncle George!" George heard a pounding on his front door, and then a gasp and Fleur's voice saying "Victoire! Stop that right now, or Uncle George will not want to spend any time with you!" George laughed and opened the door to find his sister-in-law crouched down in front of his niece, who was frowning at her mother and looked ready to open her mouth and yell at her.

"Fat chance, Fleur. Come here, peanut," George said, kneeling down and holding his arms open. Victoire ran into them and he hugged her tightly. "I missed you! Are you gonna spend the whole afternoon with me?"

"Yes!" She said, bouncing up and down and running inside his apartment.

Fleur laughed. "Well, I guess she doesn't need me. Thanks a million for doing this, George, Bill and I really appreciate it."

"Not a problem, you know how much I love to spend time with her." George said, leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah, but I just feel bad you won't be in the shop if you need to be," Fleur said, checking behind him to make sure Victoire wasn't getting into any trouble. "And she has been a handful lately, I admit..."

"Fleur, I would much rather spend time with her than be working, and I was the king of children who are "handfuls', so I can handle it. Please, go have a nice lunch with Bill and go to the movies and everything will be fine. Vics and I will be waiting for you when you get back."

"Okay...thanks again, George. Bye, sweetheart, Mummy'll be back later to come get you!" Fleur called.

"Uncle George, where are you?" Victoire called, and George stepped back inside and closed the door.

"I've got a surprise for you, little one," George said, going into his bedroom to get it. He heard the steps of tiny feet following behind him and he smiled. He reached up on top of his dresser and got down one of the joke wands he sold in his shop. This one was a dud, so there was no chance it would explode like the real ones often did, or turn into an enchanted bird. It did, however, make a noise when you twirled it and produced bubbles from the tip. "Here you go, Vics." He said, handing the wand to his niece and watching as her eyes went big as saucers.

"Wow! A wand, just like Mummy and Daddy," the little girl whispered, flourishing it in the air and giggling as bubbles flew around the room. "Thanks!" She said, running off into the living room. George followed behind her, chuckling softly as he watched her pretend to jinx his sofa. She bounced around on her chubby legs, her skirt twirling around her. The red hair she'd been born with had long been traded in for pale blonde hair that was just like her mother's, along with big blue eye and china skin. She was a beautiful little girl, just as beautiful as she had been when she was born, and her favorite person, besides her Mum and Dad, happened to be her Uncle George.

Around Victoire, George had discovered himself again. He started smiling and laughing again, knowing that this little girl, who for some reason had taken such a liking to him, was always watching. At first he had faked it, but soon, it was real. He tickled her and played with her and even let her paint his toes once. He had become the old George, the one his twin had known so well, and all because this little girl had stolen his heart.

"Essssspeliarmus!" Victoire cried, whipping around as pointing the wand at George and giggling. He scooped her up in his arms and tickled her pudgy belly, sending her into fits of giggles.

"I think you've been watching too many duels," he said. She clapped her hands against his cheeks and giggled as he made fish lips.

"I lub you," she said as she laughed.

"I lub you, too," he said, sticking his tongue out at Victoire, at this May 2 baby who had changed his world.