A/N: This is a collection of oneshots (more like drabbles) that I wrote for ktkakes. You rock Katie, keep up those fantastic reviews. You really inspired me a lot during the writing of Triumphant Gold. :-D

(Note: If you are not ktkakes and have not read my story Triumphant Gold, know that you will be very confused while reading this. Please go back and read the Color Series if you want this to make sense. :-) )

This first one is from Fred's POV. During the moment when he looks down at George right after they rescued Harry in the last book. (Chapter 1 of Triumphant Gold)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter. Only Angela Barry.

Holey Anyone?

My eyes are tricking me, I am sure of it. Because that cannot be my brother laying there on the sofa with half of his head covered in blood. The blood drains from my face and I am so shocked I cannot move. I cannot do anything but stare. Since we are identical, it is almost like seeing me lying motionless, pale as death. Words fail me, and that is unusual.

George must wake up. He must! I cannot stand to see him so still. George is never still. He is my companion, my best friend, my brother, my twin. I cannot lose him! But what is there to do? I can do nothing.

A lump gathers in my throat as I look intensely at the colorless face in front of me. Someone's hand slips into mine. I know it is Angie, but I cannot turn to look at her. George stirs. I inhale sharply. Mum drops to her knees beside Dad and looks tenderly at George.

"How do you feel, Georgie?" she asks softly.

I watch as my brother gropes the side of his head that is now missing an ear.

"Saintlike" came his voice, murmuring.

The answer is so unexpected I am afraid something is wrong. Why would my brother say something like that? Saintlike? What did that mean?

"What's wrong with him?" I croak out. My hand tightens around Angie's. "Is his mind affected?"

The only solution to this madness is that somehow the curse hit his brain and caused it to go bonkers.

"Saintlike," repeats George. He opens his eyes and looks straight up at me. I feel slightly better knowing that I am the first person he looks at. "You see . . . I'm holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?"

Mum starts crying hysterically. From happiness or the fact that her son can never take anything seriously, I don't know. Color returns to my cheeks as I realize the awful pun. Even when my brother is injured terribly, he can still crack jokes. Happiness and relief fill me, but I cover it up by pretending to be annoyed.

"Pathetic," I tell him. "Pathetic! With the whole world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?"

George only grins. Angie drops my hand and backs away. I am sorry for her leaving but my attention is still on my brother. He turns to Mum who is still crying. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her. She's been through a rough time lately.

"Ah well, you'll be able to tell us apart now anyway, Mum." George says.

I grin as well. My brother is back to normal. I wonder if he has any ideas for a new shop item I have been thinking about.