The photo frame was old and battered, but the picture inside had been preserved by its casing - it looked almost new.
The two red-headed boys grinned and waved out of the picture. Not many people could easily tell them apart. They had the same hair and freckle-splattered face, the same goofy grin and mischievous glint in their eyes.
To most people they looked exactly the same, but George could tell the apart - George could always tell them apart.
The shop in front of which the boys stood was dusty, old looked on the verge of collapse. George had told Fred that he was mad to buy it. Fred told him to look at the possibilities. The possibilities must have been good because three months later the shop was filled will trouble-seeking Hogwarts students.
It had made George slightly sad, seeing them there. 'Do you ever miss it, Freddie? School, I mean.'
Fred had grinned, 'All the time.'
'Doesn't it ever make you sad?'
'Don't be sad that it's over, Georgie, be happy that it happened.'
Had George found that picture amoungst his old things ten years ago the frame would be soaked in tears by now. But it wasn't, because enough time had passed
George wasn't sad because Fred died. He was happy because Fred lived.
George didn't cry because it was over, he smiled. He smiled because it happened.