AN: I've always wanted to write a story about George after the war, and how he deals with the loss of Fred. Fred, his brother, twin, best-friend, and partner-in-crime. He can't bear it any more, it's just too painful. You may cry while reading this, a fair bit, I don't know how good my depressing-story skills are. Also: the ages of the Next Generation kids are based off where I've put them in my story "Time Travel: What a Pain!"

Warnings: This includes suicidal thoughts and a depressing mood. If you don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: Oh yeah, and I don't own Harry Potter!

...

When you love someone, they never really leave you.

"George? George, aren't you going?" "Eh?"

George came out of the closet to see Angelina sitting up in bed, one hand on her nine-month-pregnant belly. She was due any day. They had decided that they wanted the gender of their child to be a surprise.

It was April Fool's Day. Every year since Voldemort fell, Arthur and Molly Weasley planned a few days a year for the Weasley clan and friends to get together. Most of the days included birthdays, like this one. It was George's birthday. Every year Molly had planned a get-together on this day because it wasn't always George's birthday. It used to not only belong to him, but to his twin, Fred. It seemed, to George, that his mother didn't want him to celebrate it alone – not that he was ever really alone, he did have Angelina.

"George, you spaced out again!" "Oh, did I?" George sighed and straightened his tie, "You don't look very ready yourself."

Angelina made a slightly exasperated noise, "I told you George, I'm not coming. I told you last night, when I said I wasn't feeling well. It's just you that's going." "I'll stay with you." "No! No, it's your twenty-seventh birthday; you should go to the celebration!"

"Fine," George muttered, it was no use to argue with her, she was right most of the times anyways. He leaned over, pecked her on the cheek, and said "If anything happens, forget about me and save yourself." And smiled, just slightly.

But just before he was able to floo over, she said, quietly, "I wish you would smile bigger. If you had made that joke in school… or even during the war… you would've started cracking up. Of course, you had Fr-I'm sorry…" she said immediately.

It had become an unspoken rule between the two. If one of them said the word, the name, 'Fred,' the other would become solemn and stony-faced for the rest of the day. It simply hurt too much. George himself couldn't say the name anymore, he was afraid that if he did, all the pain, hurt, and tears the death of the person had caused inside of him would break lose. He couldn't cry in front of his friends, his family. He couldn't let them worry over him; he didn't want to be trouble… not that kind of trouble. Not any kind of trouble, really… not anymore.

He grabbed the Floo powder and threw it in the fire. Without meeting her eyes, he turned, and said, "It's alright." It was a lie. Another lie. He hated how he lied to everyone, everyone important to him. He wasn't fine. He hadn't been fine for nearly seven years. Not since… he died.

"The Burrow!"

...

As soon as he stepped out of the fireplace, a loud yell erupted to his ears, "Happy birthday George!"

He looked around. He saw his father, and his mother smiling. Bill, Fleur, and little Victoire and Dominique; Fleur, being a few months pregnant, was carrying two-year-old Dominique in her arms. He saw Charlie, with a few more burns, holding one year old Molly II, while Percy braided her wavy red hair with a smile on his face. It felt good to see Percy smile. But Audrey wasn't there. Ron and Hermione, still childless, were merry faced and cheerful as always. Harry and Ginny, with a tiny James II, were smiling at him, but looked noticeably tired. Hiding behind Harry was eight-year-old Teddy, his hair a shade of shocking red for the occasion, and George could just make out freckles. Obviously, he had tried his best to morph into a Weasley, and his attempt almost made George smile. Finally, there were Rolf and Luna, each carrying a boy even smaller than James.

Soon the reunion was in full swing. George was surprised that Rolf and Luna came especially, being that their sons were so young and they weren't even family. He spoke with everyone, and cracked a few jokes, but everyone noted how his smiles weren't genuine, and how his eyes didn't twinkle. He, even though he didn't want to, was worrying his family and friends.

Once he got tired of the meet and greet, he sat down on the couch. Immediately, he was surrounded by children. Namely Teddy, Victoire, and Dominique. They all stared up at him with their big, young eyes. Dominique giggled, and climbed in his lap, and looked up at him, "What happened to your ear Uncle George?" His eyes narrowed and he spoke bitterly, "It's a long story and it isn't appropriate for any of you… it's scary." Teddy smiled sheepishly, "I'm brave! I belong in Gryffindor, that's where I'll be Sorted, like my dad!" Remus, yet another person who died in that particular war, who was the reason George had only lost an ear, and not been killed. Yet another memory that George hadn't particularly wanted to remember.

George wondered why Bill, Fleur, and Harry would let these three wander. Bill and Fleur were both very protective of their daughters, at five and two years old. Sure, with James II being as young as he was, only two or three months old, Harry and Ginny could use a break, but still… Andromeda Tonks would kill Harry for not watching him. That was when he realized the adults were talking in hushed voices, and all standing in one, grouped corner.

First George thought that they were discussing war stories, or that they all thought he needed to lighten up, when he realized that there was a small table where they were sitting. He looked over slightly, even though he felt Victoire tugging his sleeve to make him turn the other way, and saw something that made him pause for a second: It was a picture, a picture of him and… Fred… standing in front of their shop. He hadn't seen a picture of Fred since… his funeral. He felt himself flush, everyone was talking about Fred, wishing him a happy birthday from… beyond the grave. He felt himself go cold, and start to tremble. He didn't want to make a mess out of this, especially in front of the kids…

He pushed them off of him. "What's wrong Uncle George?" Victoire said innocently. He shook his head, closing his eyes, which wouldn't stop stinging, "N-Nothing sweetheart…" Sweetheart? Sweetheart was something he called Angelina when she was in a bad mood or if they were having one of their "special" nights, it wasn't something he called his sister, sister-in-laws, or nieces. Fred would've laughed at him for saying it. Fred… If Fred was here they'd be the life of this party, they'd have pulled April Fool's Day pranks… they'd be together. It was all George could do to say, "I'll be right back... er, bathroom…" and he ran upstairs, wiping away a single tear with his sleeve. He wanted to go to his room, sit there for a while, and get out of this funk. As he walked into the room he heard his mother shout "Okay everyone, outside for a quick round of Quidditch and then we'll say our goodbyes!" Good, he'd be alone.

He pushed open the door and almost fainted. Everything in here… brought back memories, painful memories. He saw boxes of Nosebleed Nougats and Puking Pastilles, order forms that were never filled out, and lists of pranks to pull. He sat down on his bed, feeling the handmade quilt. Then he looked across the room, and felt his eyes fill with hot tears again. It was the mirror, and it was full of pictures. He felt the first tear fall when he looked at a picture of him, Fred, and Angelina, Angelina in the middle, them each kissing her on the cheek while she laughed. He slowly walked up to the mirror. He looked in it, and saw Fred: bright red hair past his chin, brown eyes, freckles, stocky. But there were some things that snapped George back to reality, bringing him to nearly sobbing; proving that he only saw himself: The boy in the mirror was paler than normal, with tears running down his cheeks, blurry eyes. This boy wasn't smiling, or laughing, and that was what Fred did best. George sank to his knees; head in his hands, as racking sobs took him over.

It was too much, simply too much pain, too much grief. He still hadn't gotten over it for seven years; it was only made worse by hiding it, burying it inside. And now it was all spilling out. Everyone had always said you couldn't have one of them without the other, even his mother. They were meant to have each other, when his mother had found the boggart, she had seen them all dead. But, even in her wildest nightmares, she had imagined them both together. Maybe… it wasn't worth it, life wasn't worth it.

In frustration he flicked his wand up, making large cracks in the mirror. He shouted at the mirror, "Why, Fred? Why did you, how could you leave me!? You were my brother, my twin, and my best friend! You were my partner in mischief! We used to make people happy! We used to cause trouble! It's so hard to live without you! I don't even know if it's worth it anymore! I just want you back!" His wand then acted on its own accord, feeling its master's distress. A thin, gold, light shown out of it, like rope, and wrapped around his neck. It pulled tighter and tighter as George dissolved into more tears, more pain. The last thing he heard as everything went dim was a scream, "George!"

...

George opened his eyes. It was cold, and white. And he was… naked. He got up hurriedly. He heard footsteps behind him, and whirled around. There, still twenty years old, with robes in his arms and an annoyed expression, was Fred. He stood in front of Fred. They were still the same height, and looked very much the same, but George's eyes were not bright, they had been darkened by seven years of grief. He took the robes from his twin and covered himself, asking "Am I dead? Did I commit suicide?"

Fred, even with the youthful twinkle in his eyes, still looked annoyed, and a little sad. He shook his head, "Really George? You attempted suicide? Why?" George rubbed the back of his neck, now a little embarrassed under his twin's glare. Finally, he couldn't stand it. He grabbed his twin in a tight, brotherly hug, a few more tears falling down his cheeks. He held him tight and wouldn't let go. He felt, with relief, Fred hug him back, though not as tightly, "You missed me that much, huh?" "Yes," George whispered, "I never stopped missing you." When they finally released each other, Fred shook his head like he was disappointed, "George, I can't believe you tried to kill yourself. That was so stupid and so selfish." "Wait," George said, confused, "Tried? Aren't I… y'know, dead?" Fred rolled his eyes at him, smirking just slightly, "You're such an idiot; I can't believe I'm your other half! You do remember that all of our family was there right? You gave Ginny heck of a scare, and you shouldn't do that, it's wrong and selfish. We aren't the selfish ones in this family George, that's Percy! We made products to help people, we played pranks to lighten people's mood when they're down. You have to stay back."

"Why though Fred," George said, "without you I'm… I'm broken. I can't cheer anyone up!" Fred crossed his arms, "Fine. There is someone who has another point of your selfishness for you…" He brought his fingers up to his lips and whistled. A shadowy figure appeared, slowly getting closer. Finally, George could make him out. He had shaggy brown hair, amber eyes, and scars. It was Remus Lupin. Remus came up to George and frowned at him, "You are being selfish George." "How?" "You are being selfish in a way that I had once been, before I had died. You are trying to leave your wife and unborn child because you want to come and be with Fred. I once attempted to leave Nymphadora and my unborn son because I wanted to go help Harry, Ron, and Hermione. You can't leave your child, George. You'll come to join us eventually, but now is not your time. We will send you back soon, George. But… I feel you have something to say to your brother." And as quick as he had come, he vanished.

George nodded, "He's… he's right Fred. This was selfish but… I can't bear to leave you! Fred, I'm afraid I'll never see you again. I know this is silly and quite immature, but I miss you and can't bear to do anything knowing you aren't there to do it with me." Fred smiled at him, "You're such a sap, George! Don't you remember, the people you love never really leave you? I've been watching over you and Angelina, mum and dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and Ginny! I'd never leave you George. In fact, I've been by your side pretty much ever since I died. How could you think you'd ever be alone, George? I'd never leave you! It's so boring being dead!" George nodded, "Yeah… I understand. Sorry I wasted your time… But, hey, I just thought of something!" Fred, looking a little nervous and skeptical, said, "What…?" George smiled sheepishly, "Between the two of us, we're a holy spirit! Get it, I'm holy, and you're a spirit!" Fred shook his head and laughed, "Really?" The sound of his laugh unlocked something in George. Soon they were both laughing, doubled over, in a way that hadn't happened for nearly seven years. Finally, Fred stopped and smiled, "You ready to go back? You're worrying our siblings." George nodded, smiling wider than he had for a long time, "I'm ready." He hugged his twin one last time, but felt himself slipping away… he heard Fred whisper in his ear "I'm sure you'll see me really soon… I promise."

...

He woke up. He felt the handmade quilt beneath him, and something soft and cool on his forehead. He opened his eyes, and took in the five red heads all gathered around him. Bill, his long red hair in a ponytail, his scarred face showing concern; Charlie, his tough, burned brother, with an arm around Ginny, who was dabbing his forehead with the cold washcloth. Percy, wearing his horn-rimmed glasses, could not mask the worried look in his eyes. And finally Ron, with his lank red hair in his face, looking at him with a questioning gaze.

Charlie noticed he was awake first, "George, are you okay? What happened? We heard Ginny screaming and came up as fast as we could!" Ginny nodded, it looked like she was ready to cry, "Yeah George, Charlie's right! Mum had sent us to find you when you didn't turn up for Quidditch, and I had come up here to see you strangling yourself with your wand! I had just managed to rip it out of your hand before you died! Why'd you do that George! What happened?" George started to push himself up into a sitting position, and he looked at them all. His siblings, who were always there for them, even Percy. Maybe he didn't need Fred… not as much as he thought he did. He did have more than one brother… and a sister.

"I'm sorry guys… so, so sorry, it's just… I knew you guys were trying to hide Fred from me, Bill, you even sent your daughters to distract me but let's be frank, I'm not an idiot. That would be Ron's job." They all laughed, even him, and Ron said, while chuckling, "Hey, I resemble that remark!" Percy leaned to him and whispered something, to which Ron also said, "No, I did mean resemble!" and they all laughed some more. "See George," Bill said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "that's better. Now, what really happened?" George nodded, still smiling, "Well, I guess I had lost it a little since I've missed Fred so much, and I guess I had tried to kill myself… You know how Harry told us after the war what had happened when Voldemort killed him? With Dumbledore? Well, that just happened to me, in a way. I was with Fred, and briefly, Lupin! They… they told me that I was being selfish… and Fred told me that I had to come back, but that he hadn't really ever left us… and that he had watched over us for these seven years. And that… he thinks I'll see him again soon, whatever that means. But… I'm glad I came back."

His siblings all shared a look that said that, while they thought he was a little crazy, that was what they had always thought of him and Fred. They all grabbed him in a group hug. Soon, they went downstairs and were about to go outside when the fire in the fireplace turned green and a young woman stepped out, wearing Healers' robes. She smiled at the confused siblings, and said "Hello, is there a Mr. George Weasley here?" George, more confused than he had been when he had nearly killed himself, said "Er… yeah, I'm George Weasley." The Healer nodded, and beckoned him over, "Your wife, Angelina Weasley, has gone into labor. She said something about you telling her 'If anything happens, forget about me and save yourself,' so she has just sent us to inform you now. Would you like to come with me to St. Mungo's?" George just stood there, frozen, when Ron shoved him from behind and said, "Go on, tiger, go on!" He stumbled forward and stuttered, "Uh – uh yeah, I'd like to go with you." The Healer nodded, stepped back into the flames, and said "St. Mungo's!"

...

George walked down the hallway with the Healer, until she stopped in front of a door. As she was about to open it, another Healer, this one an older woman, stepped out, smiling, "Ah, Mr. Weasley, you're here! You came just in time; your wife just gave birth to a healthy baby boy a few minutes ago."

George rushed in, and saw Angelina holding a tiny baby boy with light brown skin, and dark red hair. She smiled at George when he came in, and he returned a doubly wide smile, complete with bright eyes. Angelina waited for him to sit down before whispering, "You're… you're really smiling! I told you that party would lighten your mood!" George nodded, still smiling, "You were right, it certainly did. What are we naming him?" Angelina looked at the baby, before gently placing him in George's arms. "I think you should name him. Of course, I'll have to agree to it." Angelina was delighted when George laughed softly at what she said. It was so nice to hear him laugh. George looked at the tiny bundle in his arms. The baby stirred slightly eyes opening just a tiny bit, and it looked upset at the change. "Shh, shh, it's okay little guy," George soothed, "don't cry, it's your daddy!" he bent down slightly and gently kissed the baby's forehead. The baby then smiled, waving his tiny fist at George, and made a slight gurgling noise – a laugh. George laughed again, and crooned, "Oh, so you think I'm funny do you?" the baby laughed a little harder, "Good, because that's what I am. I'm funny. I haven't been for a long time, but I will be now. For you, and for Fred. I promise. And Weasley twins never back down on a promise. Hmm…" "What is it George?" "I think I know what to name our son."

He looked down at his baby, and he could swear he heard Fred whispering in his ear again, "I'm sure you'll see me really soon… I promise." He looked down at his baby, and whispered to him and to his brother, "I love you, Fred, and I'll always love you and be there for you. And now I have a son… who can already laugh and smile just like you did. So…" he spoke up now, to let Angelina hear, "how about we name you Fred II?" Angelina smiled gently, "That's lovely, George, Fred II… it's perfect. You three even share the same birthday, so it has to be perfect. Of course, we'll probably just call him Fred." George rocked his son gently, "I love you Fred. You're… you're going to make Uncle Fred proud someday, I'm sure you will. You'll be an amazing Quidditch player, whether you are a beater or chaser like mummy and daddy, like your Uncle Fred and Auntie Ginny. But no matter what you are, remember that you'll always be loved and watched over, whether it is Mum, or Dad, or… even Uncle Fred, because he loves you very much. We promise. And remember, Fred, Weasley twins never back down on a promise."

...

AN: So, what do you think? Good enough? Something I should add? Anything? Please Review!