George was unresponsive. It always seemed that way the long days, weeks, months after the war. After the death of his twin brother, Fred, his other half, his closest friend, the Gred to his Forge, the brains behind most of their greatest pranks and products. He couldn't look in a mirror, couldn't sleep in his old room, and could barely stand to see any of the classic Weasley sweaters, always hoping an F would be among them.
For the first four months everyone around him let him mourn, at the strict orders of Molly Weasley. She didn't want somebody to say the wrong thing and depress him more. Then, after that it was just difficult to see him still so hurt, never talking, never cracking a smile. Everyone lost Fred that day, but it was killing George, it seemed. It wasn't until a full eight months later, when Harry and Hermione moved into the Burrow, that they started to try and get the old George back.
Ron, who had taken over Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, would often bring home products to prank George, or someone else in attempt to get his brother to smile. All George did for the first two weeks was ignore them. Then, as he started to find them in his room and things, he would begin to get angry and throw the toys or fireworks at Ron, not even trying to prank him back. It often got Ron in trouble with Molly, who would order the youngest son to stop as George walked away, usually to be gloomy by the lake out back.
"It's bloody depressing, that's what." Ron murmured to Hermione and Harry after getting a good reaming from his mother for turning Ginny's hair purple the moment George came in the room. He was a much moodier version of himself, Ron, because he wasn't used to the forever looming cloud over the Burrow. They all missed Fred, but this was ridiculous.
Harry almost agreed, until Hermione scolded Ron. "Ronald, that's incredibly rude. It's only been a few months. It's all fine and dandy that you can smile again, but Fred wasn't your twin, you weren't with him for all but five seconds your entire life." She berated him.
And the moment Fred's name slipped through her lips she began to tear up. Not actually cry, but felt that prickle in her eyes, her heart growing heavy. Taking in a deep breath she suppressed it and got up from her chair. She went into the kitchen, Harry and Ron staring after her.
"She's probably right." Harry shrugged, staring at the floor. Ron wouldn't complain because he felt this horrible pressure in his chest at Hermione's words, and he wondered if that was how George always felt.
At the sound of the faucet, the two boys stood up and followed Hermione. She was just sitting at the table with a glass of water when they came in. Harry just sat and grabbed a discarded Daily Prophet from Arthur's usual seat, while Ron went about scrounging for food. That sat in a comfortable, yet moody silence for a few moments, the only sounds being Ron eating leftover soup and Hermione's occasional sipping, then putting her glass down.
It was when Harry and Ron started discussing one of the latest quidditch games, between the Falmouth Falcons and the Pride of Portree, that George finally came back from his walk to the lake. As he opened the door, the fabric of Harry's invisibility cloak fell from above it, revealing an already tipping bucket. Water poured down heavy on George, the plastic bucket falling just to the left of him.
The last remaining twin stopped, red in the face and growing more frustrated. "Ron, enough! Just for today, just leave me the hell alone!" He full on snapped, for the first time. It was scary, nearly, making the two confused boys looks distraught, while Hermione just sipped her water.
"It wasn't me!" Ron's voice cracked in horror under the glare of his brother. He was being honest, he was shocked to see the scene, and Harry couldn't defend him, for he was surprised as well, wondering how his cloak had become involved in this prank.
Before George could yell more, and as Molly scurried in the room, hearing the ruckus, Hermione stood. "It was me." She admitted with a newly borne look of amusement on her face.
Every body stared at her, then at George, and back. George, however, stood there, fists clenched, but glare fading. He let out a heavy, harsh breath, closing his eyes for a moment, before he opened then. The blue orbs, for the first time in months, held life.
"You're on. Better watch out, Granger." He threatened with this very Slytherin-esque smirk and then apparated from the room. By the echoing crack everyone knew he had simply gone upstairs.
Silence was still strong in the kitchen, before Molly placed a hand on her chest. "Thank the heavens!" She practically yelled out.
With that exclamation everyone witnessing suddenly realized what this meant.
George would prank again.
And Hermione, the future target, just calmly sat down.
"Bloody hell, woman, are you out of your mind?" Ron squeaked in an odd manor, now worried for one of his best friends' safety.
For once, Molly couldn't care less about the prank and just waltzed over to Hermione. "How'd you get him to do that? None of Ron's jokes worked."
One again, all eyes snapped to Hermione. She was nervous as all get out, but refused to show it.
"Just before Fred and George came out with the skiving snack boxes and Canary Creams, we sort of came up with a treaty." She began to explain slowly, wondering if she could trust her voice to tell the whole story. "Fred agreed that if I didn't tell anybody, since I was prefect, they wouldn't pull pranks on me again. The treaty breaks the moment one of us pranks or rats on the other. He also said that if I break it, I better be prepared for hell, because neither of them would want to miss the chance to prank me."
She wiggled in her seat, a bit self conscious under all those stares. "I wasn't sure it still counted now, but it was worth a shot." She concluded.
Then there was a muffled banging, much like an explosion, from above all of their heads.
"Oh Merlin, he's actually plotting." Ron blurted.
Harry smiled, a bit sympathetically, at Hermione. "Sorry, Mione." He meant about her inevitable doom.
"It's for the best." She shrugged and got up to leave the room. Somehow, she safely made it to her room, Percy's old room, just across the hall from George's room, and he hadn't even noticed.