The boy stood facing the reflective glass, his brow furrowed in despair. His eyes held the hint of an old spark which was long gone, replaced with the grim reality of age. Even in his forties, George Weasley still brandished the tell-tale signs of a Weasley boy with his fading freckles and the mop of bright ginger hair – now streaked slightly with a fair few grey strands. He had often contemplated dying the locks but he knew that once the grandkids started reaching the terrible two's, the entire idea would be entirely fruitless. Not to mention the fact that there was no dye which he had come across in his many years which completely matched his shade, and to dye it even the slightest bit darker would be horrific and not truly be him. He would look in the mirror and no longer see his better half, but instead notice the old man who had grown to accept the life he was dealt and the losses he had endured. The loss of his brother, his best friend – his twin, in particular. Never in a million years would George undergo any kind of treatment or apply any dye to his hair which would erase any remaining traces of Fred from this world. Every time he looked in a mirror, although aged physically, he could still see Fred looking back at him, smiling and goading him to secretly curse Professor Snape again.

George had never glimpsed the famous 'Mirror of Erised' himself, however the stories which his youngest brother, Ron and the boy's best friend, Harry, who he had taken to calling a brother, spoke of one's most inner and purest desires. For George, there was never any need for a magical mirror to reach into his soul and pull forth his deepest desires – as he owned his very own Mirror of Erised. In fact, every mirror or reflective surface that George had ever laid eyes on after the battle of Hogwarts was. And every time he caught a glimpse of himself, he would see Fred standing before him with his vibrant smile. Then, of course just as any deluded desire, the pain sets in and George is transported back to that shattering moment when he first glimpsed the sight of his brother lying motionless before him on a stretcher. There is no way of explaining the heartache and absolute lack of will to go on which he experienced in that one moment – that moment where he realised his life would never be the same. For those who have never lost anyone dear to them – oh what a wonderful dream they must live in – to never have to experience such painful emotions ripping you to shreds as your throat clenches with the oncoming tears. The sobs which wrack your entire body and you feel as if death would be less painful and easier. However, George nevertheless pulled through it with his supporting family and wife, Angelina. The boy cracked a smile as he remembered the day his son was born, never had he been any more in love with his wife than in that very moment when he watched her hold their son in her arms for the first time, quietly cooing and smiling down at the boy. The tiny babe which his wife cradled already had a small tuft of dark ginger hair upon his soft head and his eyes mirrored those of his own.

"Oh George, isn't he just adorable?" Angelina smiled as the child let out a hiccup before beginning to cry. His face scrunched up as he let out his very first wail and George couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"He sure is a noisy one – gonna be just like uncle Freddy, loud and a jokester." He laughed as he knelt down to his small family, circling his arms around his wife and softly patting at his son's soft skin.

At the sudden change of voice, the child paused in his cries and watched Fred in all-too knowing way. The boy's eyes seemed to hold a slight spark in them and he revealed a baby smile to his father.

"It's okay, George. You know, I think it's a wonderful name." Angelina spoke quietly as she watched her husband in a wistful manner. He hadn't voiced his idea to her as of yet but having been married to her for a few years she seemed to have caught on to his train of thought.

Smiling down at his son with a single tear escaping the corner of his eye he whispered in a low tone so that only his small family may hear "Welcome home, Freddy."

Later came his second child, often referred to as daddy's little girl, Roxanne had him wrapped around her tiny finger since the day she was born. Even though he wasn't there for her birth, as soon as he saw his little girl being cradled in the arms of his beautiful wife, for the first time in a long time – he felt as if things were finally starting to get better. However, Fred II didn't exactly take to being an older brother too well and didn't enjoy sharing mum and dad with the new baby, but as they grew older he became the ultimate big brother – even jinxed her cheating boyfriend in their fifth year for her.

"Honey, are you ready to go? The kids are waiting for us." Angelina called to George as he straightened his tie in the small mirror above the bathroom sink. He knew that if Fred were there he would tell him that he looked like a monkey in this suit, but it was for him after all so George was sure he would make an exception - hopefully.

"Have you got everything, love?" He asked as he hopped down the crooked staircase of the burrow. Yes, that's right – George was staying at home for the time being as it was his 45th birthday and Molly had wanted to see him. After Arthur, Molly's husband and George's father, died when George was 38, Molly hadn't been doing too well with long term separation from all of her kids so every once in a while they all tried to get back together for Christmas or other occasions and just try to celebrate the best they could. Of course, no matter how hard they tried to distance themselves from memories, drinking more butterbeer than was humanly possible, there was always that lingering sadness throughout the house – those lingering memories of those they had lost.

"Of course I do, I may be getting old but I'm not that senile yet." Angelina laughed as George came to an abrupt stop before her. She had thrown her greying hair up into a loose bun with a soft light blue sun dress which came to her knees. George smiled as he took in her natural beauty before pulling her to him and walking towards the door.

"I thought you said the kids were waiting for us?" George questioned as he took in the bare surroundings while circled the house. With empty fields and long grass around him, there was no sign of their children.

"They're already there honey." She whispered as she drew her wand from her small bag. It had an extension charm on it which Hermione had helped her with and it also held the roast lunch which they would all be sharing. Her wand was a seven inch, yew with dragon heart-string and she, as any other wizard would, treasured it close to her heart.

Taking her hand, Angelina muttered below her breathe and George suddenly felt his stomach drop before landing nimbly on his feet in the large green cemetery. Stumbling slightly, he grabbed a hold of Angelina to steady himself which she simply smiled and shook her head mockingly at. No matter how many times George had apparated in the past – it never seemed to get any easier.

"Hey mum, hey dad – what took you guys so long?" Fred II smiled as he held his wife close to his side. She smiled in our direction as she cradled their three month old, Christine, in her arms. Huffing, George walked slowly toward the large group composed of Ron and Hermione's family, Ginny and Harry's family, Molly, Charlie and Fleur's family, Percy and his wife's family etc. However, as George neared the large group he quickly recognised the centre of their attention – a small gravestone with a simple inscription that tore at his heart.

Here lies Frederick Joseph Weasley

1978-1988

Loving son, brother and trickster

'I solemnly swear that I was up to no good'

George vaguely felt his wife pat his shoulder in a loving manner before the group slowly receded to leave the twins alone.

"Hey Freddy, how are you and dad doing?" George whispered as he slowly knelt before the cold headstone. He smiled as he imagined Fred standing with him, laughing about how much of a brute he was being for talking to a bloody stone.

"Yeah, I know but it's not like I can actually see you, y'know?" George spoke as he shook his head wistfully, wishing that he was wrong and Fred would jump out from behind the headstone and laugh about how funny the look on his face was. He never did though.

"I guess I should wish you a happy birthday – make sure you give Snape a big ol' jinx for me up there and say hi to tonks and the lot. You know, it's just never been the same without you, Freddy." George felt the familiar sting in his eyes as his chest tightened and tears began to drip down his slightly wrinkled face. "Mum said she saw you again in her dream the other night – how come you never visit me? I know it's probably just her old age getting to her but the other day she called me Fred. I swear, in that one moment, I felt like all these past 20 years or so were just a terrible nightmare and I turned to her and said 'honestly woman you call yourself our mother' but then I realised it was only me talking. She didn't even bat a lash – I think she's starting to lose it with you and dad being gone." George blew out a deep breath before turning to lean his back against the stone, imagining he was waiting for Fred to finish planting the trap in Umbridge's office and that he would be back any second. He never was.

"You know Fred, I really don't like living in a world where one twin is gone and the other is left to see his everywhere he turns" George whispered as he slowly closed his eyes with a tear escaping the corner to land on the old firecracker which George held close to his heart.