It's been three long months...

Three months since the dreadful war, since the victory over the Death Eaters, and the great downful of Lord Voldemort, the darkest wizard to ever live.

It's been three months...

Since family was reunited, since people could come out of hiding, and everyone was free of the curse put over the Wizarding World.

It's also been three months...

Since the world was in great turmoil, since homes and buisnesses were ablaze with fire, and families were torn apart and destroyed.

George Weasley was lying on his bed in The Burrow, staring at the ceiling. His room was a mess, but he didn't care to get up and fix it. Ever since the Last Battle, he's been caring a lot less lately. He hadn't been himself for a while. His hair grew back long again like back in his Fourth year at Hogwarts, he had a goatee, and sported a five o'clock shadow. Despite being twenty years old, he looked as if he were forty.

He felt like as if all the happiness in his body had been sucked out. He was just a lifeless corpse walking around, no soul, no life, no nothing. But why did he feel that way, he wondered to himself. But then, he looked over to the other side of his room, and instantly remembered.

There was a another bed on the other side, empty and messy. It belonged his late twin brother, Fred. George's eyes teared up as he looked over there. Fred was killed three months ago in the war, and he was standing right there in front of George and Percy, when a blast from a nearby wall occured, and the heavy falling rocks crushed Fred to his death.

George remembered the last look on his brother's face: His insane lauhgter, the way his eyes were lit up, how alive he looked at that moment. And in just a matter of moments, George's whole world came crashing down. He had broke down crying when he saw the blood pour out, and that Fred wasn't getting up from under rubble of rocks.

The memories haunted him constantly. He was a wreck because of it. He hadn't laughed in the longest while. It felt like years since he last laughed. Fred was his other half and closest friend. Without Fred, he was incomplete. Without Fred, he had no reason to live.

George decided to get up, but it felt like an extreme force was holding him down, forcing him to push himelf up. He felt strangely hungry. Then again, his last meal was about five days ago, and he felt the need to eat again. He had lost about Thirty pounds in the past three months, and he was looking strangely skinny and emaciated.

He dragged himself out the room, and slowly decended down the stairs. When he appeared down the stairs, he was quick to notice everyone who was there in the room. Mrs. Weasley was over in her usual place in the kitchen, cooking something that was bound to be delicious. Mr. Weasley and Bill were sitting at the table discussing something, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were in the living room playing Wizards Chess. George made his presence known by sitting down at the table. The other's looked up, and their faces tenced up at George's presence.

Mrs. Weasley hurried over with a plate of steaming food and a cup of butterbeer, and felt George's head. She sat down in the chair next to him, and watched him anxiously, hoping that George would actually eat this time. She wasn't the only one; everyone turned their heads to watch George as he picked up his fork, and started shoveling the food into his mouth. He chewed rapidly, and finished off his food in about five minutes.

"How are feeling, Georgie?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice filled with worry and heartbreak.

George didn't answer her. Instead, he got up, pushed the chair back, and went out the back door, his eyes not meeting anyone's. The four in the living room looked down sadly. George hardly spoke in the past months. In fact, they could count the number of words he actually spoke aloud on one hand. Mr. Weasley and Bill decided to get up from the table, each with solemn looks plastered on their faces.

"Bill and I are headed to the Ministry to see what else is up. We'll be back later tonight." Mr. Weasley annouced.

He and Bill the put on their shoes, grabbed their jackets, and left the house. Mrs. Weasley went up to the kids and stood in front of them.

"Now, I want you four to help clean around the house, please. And if you don't mind, can you also clean Georgie's room? I think his mood would be slightly improved if he came to a clean room. I know he wouldn't like it, especially the room looks exactly the same since..."

She tapered off on the last sentence, and tears formed on her face. The kids got up, understanding what Mrs. Weasley ment, walked through the kitchen, and began their ascent up the stairs. They looked at the back door. George hadn't returned yet, and they began wondering weather or not he was going to come back...