Disclaimer: There's no way anyone thinks I could possibly own Harry Potter because I obviously do not. It's all JKR's.

A/N: I'm not 100% sure how many chapters this will be, but I had to dive back into this world again. I'd intended for a one-shot, but it's already taken on a life of its own. The angst is back, I suppose. This is the Sober Universe, clearly, but it's not my alternate WFH universe… I needed Arthur for this one.

"It's going to be a wonderful wedding," George said determinedly. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and nodded forcefully. Then he sighed. There was no use.

Everyone else was excited – or at least pretending to be. Everyone else was rushing around getting ready – or at least pretending to be. Everyone else wasn't missing the one person who would have made this complete. Well… no. That wasn't entirely fair. They were all missing Fred. George had come far enough by now to know that Fred wasn't his loss alone. But on days like today … and on their birthday… it sure felt that way.

Four years. Four years with no one else to complete his thoughts or sentences. Four years with only one stitched jumper at Christmas. Four years of waking up every morning and still not believing this could be real. And now… now it felt like he was leaving Fred behind for good.

On a rational level, George knew it was ridiculous for him to feel this way. He knew Fred would want him to marry Katie. He knew Fred would laugh at him for even the thought of giving any of this a second thought merely because of his absence.

And he wasn't – giving it a second thought, that is. What he was doing right now was staring into the mirror and wishing fervently that he could see his face replicated somewhere else again just for this one day.

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. No. he couldn't do this to himself – not today. If there were anyone who deserved an outburst like this less than Katie, on the most important day of her life, well, he couldn't imagine who that might be.

But he still couldn't smile. He needed to get out of this flat, to get back to the Burrow, to get someplace where he could straighten out his thoughts before he had to face his bride. Taking a moment to dash off a quick note, he wrote, "Off to get ready at my mum's. Next time I see you, you'll be a Weasley, too. Can't wait. Love."

He slipped on a jumper, a huge G stitched to the center of his chest, and made sure to close the door quietly behind him. Once he was out of bounds, he disapparated, reappearing within sight of the Burrow. He stood for a moment, looking at it, before shaking his head and turning again.

This time, when he opened his eyes, his breath left him in a rush. He'd known where he was going. He'd even known he'd end up here at some point today … but he still hadn't expected to be there so early… or so alone. Nevertheless, he straightened his shoulders, sighed, and walked over to the one grave he never thought he'd have to visit on his wedding day.

For a long moment, George stood, staring at the headstone, wishing as he had so many countless times over the past four years that Fred could somehow hear him. He wanted to believe it so badly. It would have made things inexpressibly easier. But he couldn't. No matter how many times he'd been here, he'd never been able to say a word.

The only sounds that surrounded him were the flutter of wings as owls brought flowers to deposit on the surrounding graves and the occasional chirp as they flew away, and George wondered when he'd ever feel enough closure to leave again when he heard the crackling of twigs behind him.

He swallowed with an audible click before turning to come unsurprisingly face to face with his older brother.

He gave him a brief nod, before turning his gaze back on his twin's name. Percy followed suit, and after a moment, the sound of wings was accompanied by Percy's suddenly harsh breathing. George held himself very still, hoping Percy would be able to get himself back under control quickly. This was the last thing he needed right now.

But Percy showed no signs of calming down, and suddenly, to George's horror, he began to speak… but not to George.

"I know I've apologized a million times." The words came in a rush, and George found himself trying mightily and spectacularly unsuccessfully to tune them out. "But Fred," Percy continued, struggling and failing to keep his voice steady, "I need you to know how sorry I am for today. George probably mentioned this already, but it's his wedding today, and, well, he's made me best man. And it should be you. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that it isn't you. I'd give anything – anything for it to be you. I just – I needed you to know that."

His words hit George squarely in the solar plexus, and suddenly, he was the one gasping for air, and then he was hunching over, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Percy's arm was around him moments later, and he guided him over to the nearest bench. For a little while, they sat in silence while George fought to control his breathing. He hadn't had a moment like this in months now, and he scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I'm fine," he tried to grind out, but his voice sounded strangled in his own ears, and Percy squeezed his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Percy mumbled. "I didn't mean to do this to you… I guess I just figured that wouldn't come as much of a surprise or anything. I really am glad you made me best man, George. You know that. You know how honored I was. I am. I just… sometimes it feels wrong. And that's still my own fault."

George started violently. "That's rubbish, Percy," he said harshly, and even though he wouldn't lift his head, he somehow knew Percy was listening, so he continued. "We've been over this and over this. Nothing is your fault. Stop taking the blame when you aren't wrong. You didn't do anything wrong. I wish Fred were here, too. I was born with a best man, and he was supposed to be here today, but… " he isn't, echoed in his mind, and he choked on the words. His grip on his hair tightened as his eyes welled up, and he swallowed hard.

Percy had shifted in his seat, but he heard the tears in his brother's voice, and he shifted back. Putting his arm across George's shoulders, he whispered, "if I have to stop feeling guilty for not doing anything wrong, then do you think maybe you could stop feeling guilty for being happy about today?"

For a long moment, Percy wasn't sure whether or not his words even sank in, but then he felt a tremor course through George, and George whispered, "I can't – I can't help it. How can I be happy about getting married when he – when he never will? How can I be happy when he's not here?"

Percy's grip on his younger brother tightened, and he whispered, "Because he'd want you to be. And no one knows that better than you do."

George sighed shakily and finally uncovered his face. "I do," he said quietly, turning to look at Percy.

Percy's own eyes were watery, but he smiled.

"Save it for Katie," he said, and George almost smiled back.

"That was almost another joke, Perce," he said, getting to his feet and reaching out a hand to help Percy to his. "You're filling the role nicely."