"No. I-I can't do this." George stammered as he stood in front of Weasley Wizard Wheezes for the first time after Fred's death.

He tried to pull away from Ron and Harry, who had somehow convinced him to come, but their grip on him was firm. George tried to avert his gaze from the shop.

"Please. I'm not ready." George pleaded, looking at Ron.

"George," Ron began. "It's time. Fred wouldn't have wanted you to continue this way."

Harry nodded in agreement. Ron gave George's arm a tug in the direction of the shop.

"If you don't do this now, you never will."

George continued to squirm for a moment, while Harry and Ron exchanged concerned glances. They both knew that they could not force George into doing this, but they couldn't simply stand by and let George continue to fall apart the way he had been. They couldn't let the legacy of the twins descend into nothingness.

The friends let go of George, who immediately stilled. He knew that they were right. He took a step towards the shop, and peered through an empty spot on the window, the majority of which was plastered with advertisements, the infamous "you no poo" signs, and even an eviction notice from the ministry. He frowned at the sign and looked back at Harry and Ron. He nodded slowly, pain etched across his face.

George walked up to the door, inserted the key, and took a deep breath as he pointed his wand at it. The door swung open and the three stepped inside. The shop was left just as it was; try me items scattered about, shelves stacked with potions and gadgets in a disorderly fashion, wonderful organized chaos. The only difference was the thin layer of dust that covered the shop. The silence in the store was deafening compared to the ambient chatter of the crowds that used to fill the area. George glanced around the room, taking in all that he had created with his brother. This was their life's work. The ambition was sparked with the first dung bomb planted into the house. He wandered to a shelf, filled with Snackboxes. He lifted one gingerly, and blew the dust off of it.

"It all started with one of these. Fred and I spent so many hours bleeding and retching testing these things out. Good thing we had the idea of hiring those first years." He explained to the two other boys with him, smiling sadly. He placed the box with the others and walked along the row of shelves, running his fingers along the different products.

His mind was shortly filled with memories of his brother: bewitching snowballs to hit Quirrell in the back of the head, spying on the order with their extendable ears, and their grand show of leaving the school in the midst of OWL's. These moments were the making of Fred's entire life story, and George's as well, up to the point of his brother's death. And yet somehow, these memories hardly scratched the surface.

There was no way that George was going to let the Ministry evict him, and more importantly, Fred, from this shop. This was how Fred would live on. This was a dream that he couldn't let die alongside his twin.

George reached up onto the shelf and grabbed their (admittedly better) version of Filibusters Fireworks. With his other hand he took out his wand and pointed it to the sign at the front of the store, so that the "Open" part was facing out for all of Diagonal Alley to see. He set off the fireworks, and laughed at Ron and Harry when they jumped at the sudden noise.

"It's time to open up shop, boys. I could use some help if you wouldn't mind." He said. His little brother, and his friend grinned at him, their mission clearly accomplished. And George grinned back.