Harry sighed. He looked around the living room of the Burrow. All was not well, even though they had more cause to celebrate than to grieve. Ginny was by his side, and that was a reason to be happy; Ron and Hermione had finally got together, and that was good too. But there was something nagging at all the hearts of the occupants of the living room; and that thing was Fred. This was their first Christmas without him, the room felt strangely empty, even though there was at least 20 people crowded in there, with all the Weasleys along with assorted friends who had joined them. Mrs Weasley was looking haggard and thin, and although she had a tiny, watery smile on her lips, it wouldn't take a fool long to see that it was very forced, and that inside she was screaming for her lost son. All the members of the Weasley clan were the same, (although Ginny had certainly cheered up when Harry asked her if they wanted to get back together!) Time wasn't working it's supposed magical powers of healing, the wound in Harry's heart caused by the deaths of people he had loved still felt as huge and raw as though it had happened yesterday.

Remus and Tonks were not going unmissed though; baby Teddy was lying in Fleur Weasley's arms, and he had an unhappy expression on his face, as though he was fully aware of his parent's loss even though he was only days old when they departed this world.

"Present time!" called the thin, unhappy voice of Mrs Weasley, and everyone sat up straight and pretended to be happy.

"I spent ages choosing yours, Ron." said Hermione, in an effort to be cheerful. She hadn't got on with Fred most of the time but that didn't mean she wasn't grieving just as hard as everyone else.

"Good. I hope you like mine," replied Ron in a toneless, flat voice. Hermione shot Harry a hopeless, defeated glance. Again, Harry sighed. Things were much worse here at the Burrow than he had thought.

Things cheered up a bit after that, with everyone slowly growing cheerful and exchanging gifts. Harry smiled; Christmas had been lousy before the presents. They had put up all the decorations weeks before, but it wasn't the same without Fred and George bewitching tinsel to trip you up, and enchanting the mistletoe to trap you where you were until someone kissed you. It had still been fun, but with an incredibly glum atmosphere. The Weasley's were recovering, but it would take a long time to fully heal. Harry even saw a genuine smile from Mrs Weasley after she opened Hermione's gift; a CD full of songs by Celestina Warbeck, containing all the new hits. Mrs Weasley looked at it for a few seconds looking puzzled, until Hermione burst out laughing, and said "That's a CD, Mrs Weasley, look, I got you something to play it on as well." She handed another present to Molly, which was revealed to be a brand new CD player. Soon they were all swaying along to the new tunes, while Fleur groaned, and covered her ears in disgust.

George even retreated from his room after a while, earning a relieved smile from everyone. He had been holed up in there for months, only coming out for food, and avoiding every possible human contact. An hour passed, and everyone was lying back in their chairs, full after the massive dinner Mrs Weasley had produced, and happy. Something that most of them hadn't been for weeks.

There was a general low murmur of conversation going round, but everyone went quiet when Mrs Weasley suddenly said "Look! I must have forgotten that one!"

Everyone's eyes followed where she was looking, and there they saw a lone present hidden behind the tree. It was gaudily wrapped in gold paper, and had a purple tag hanging from it. Mrs Weasley picked it up, and said "Oh! I bought this ages ago. This is for Fred and George. It was a-" then she realised what she had said. Tears came to her eyes, and she clapped her hand to her mouth. George got up abruptly from where he had been playing wizard chess with Ron, and stormed out the room, knocking a table over as he went. When the door banged behind him, Mrs Weasley tailed her hand after him, then it fell limply to her side. Everyone stared at the slammed door. No one spoke, it was immensely awkward and silent. No one moved for several minutes. Then, suddenly, Harry stood up and held out his hand for Ginny. She took it, looking puzzled, but they walked out of the room together.

"I'm going to go and speak to George." He said as he closed the door. The reason he had dragged Ginny out was that out of all Fred's siblings, apart from George of course, she had probably been the closest to him, and he wanted to ask her if this would work.

"What? He won't listen to you, he hasn't listened to any of us!"

"Yes, well I kinda understand what he's going through. My parents… But do you think it will work?"

"Hmmm, well, give it a shot, but even with your amazing levels of persuasion, I doubt he will come down."

"Well, I managed to persuade you to go out with me!" Harry chuckled.

"Believe me; it wasn't hard." She said softly, and then he kissed her on the forehead and started his ascent up the stairs.

"George? Can I come in?"

Silence.

"George? Please, I - I want to talk to you."

A muffled, tearful voice from within, "Go away! I want to be left alone. Can't you understand that! Whoever you are, Ron, Ginny, Bill, go away!"

"George, it's Harry."

"Harry?" The hoarse voice sounded surprised.

"Yeah. Please let me in, I only want to talk to you." A few seconds, then the door creaked slowly open. George was standing in front of Harry. He looked terrible. Large bags underlined his eyes and tear tracks streaked down his grimy face, making it look almost clean again. His eyes were red, and nearly closed with puffiness caused from constant tears. He stood aside to let Harry through. It was odd seeing this exact replica of Fred's face, yet at the same time knowing he would never be back. George's room was messy, dirty and yet had the air of a room in which someone had lived in for a long time. Harry had expected to see the walls and surfaces covered with pictures of Fred, yet the room was completely bare except for his lone bed. The room was depressing, yet Harry could see why George wished to grieve within it, it contained millions of memories of Fred; he had lived in this room too.

Harry walked over to George's bed, sat, and then patted the cover beside him. George walked slowly over, and sat down next to Harry.

"George, I think I can sympathise slightly with you. I lost my parents, and I grew up never knowing them, though I know I was young when they died, and also that you were far closer to Fred then I was to them, but I know how it feels."

"Really? Are you telling me that you know the living hell that I am going through?"

"No, but-"

"So you know how it feels when it's as though your other half has gone? Vanished? And how you go to bed at night wondering how you will be able to live through another whole, stinking day? Fred was my life," he said hoarsely, "I never thought about doing anything without him. And now I have to live without him."

" I understand."

"No, you don't! No, you bloody well don't! You're just making it worse. Go. Now."

"George, I do know how it feels. And I also know that it was a hell of a lot harder for me, 'cos I was living with the Dursleys. But you're not, you are surrounded by your friends and family and they will help you, George. I never had any help. I bet Angelina would help if you asked, you know that she called round to see how you were doing at least twice a week. Now she's given up. That's not right George. I want you to go downstairs and live your life. You've grieved for Fred, now you have to remember him. Remember his jokes, how he was funny, his laugh, his smile. Remember him, George. That's all you can do for him now. Think about it, if he was here, would he want you like this? Or would he be telling you to get up and cause mischief? I think I know."

George stared at the wall while his tired brain slowly took in what Harry had said. Then he replied,

"Yeah. I know too. You're right Harry, I should be with my family."

With this, he got up, and made his way out of the door. Harry followed, feeling happy that he had coaxed George out of his pit of despair. Meeting Ginny at the bottom of the stairs, he took her hand in his and said quietly in her ear, "I think, somehow, everything will be alright." Caressing her fragrant, flaming hair, he then pressed he mouth to his in a gentle motion. After a while, the blissful couple broke apart from each other, still clinging. Harry could not remember a happier time than when he had been with Ginny in his sixth year, he was happy now, but the slow dull ache of Fred's loss lessen ever so slightly.

When Harry and Ginny finally walked into the living room, they were pleasantly surprised to see that everyone was looking much happier. George was sitting on the floor by his mother's feet, letting her stroke his hair tenderly. After about an hour of happy chatting and gentle conversation, Fleur cleared her throat. Taking Bill's big, scarred hands and looking at him with a dazzling smile, she said in her throaty voice,

"Everyone, we 'ave an announcement. We 'ave both known for a while, but we didn't want to interrupt you in your terrible grief." Then a short pause. "I'm pregnant!"

Everyone looked at the couple in shock, then broke into wide smiles. Everyone moved towards the happy couple started exclaiming their congratulations, while Ron just stayed where he was, staring into space and muttering,

"I'm gonna be an uncle,…..Bloody hell!" Harry got up and clapped Bill on the shoulder, saying "Hey! Congrats mate! Any idea of the gender?"

"No, we're gonna keep it a surprise. Although we have several ideas for names." Then he spoke in a louder voice so everyone could hear.

"If it's a girl, she'll be named Victoire. That was Fleur's choice. I got to choose what the name will be for a boy. And I chose Fred." There was a silence while everyone digested what had been said. Then George spoke for the first time.

"He would like that, I think, Bill. Thank you."

Harry looked into Ginny's gorgeous eyes, they were big and brown, so much like Fred's had been before his pair had been glazed over with death. Then he looked around the living room of the Burrow. All was well.