Ron stopped and stared at the door to his brothers room on his way down to breakfast. He had hardly seen George since the battle of Hogwarts. He had taken Fred's death brutally and had refused to do anything productive, but instead sat in his room all day. He, Ginny and his mother and father would take turns to bring George some food, and try to get him to talk, Harry and Hermione had been round to see him too, but to no avail.

So far he had been inconsolable.

Ron hesitated a moment before he made the decision to try once more. His hand reached out for the door knob, his insides were churning as he turned the knob and pushed the door open gently. He didn't know what he was going to do, what he was going to say but he knew he had to try.

His room was a mess, not like it used to be when Fred was alive, it would be full of Fillibuster Fireworks and samples of products they wanted to sell in their joke shop. Now it was just a mess. Clothes everywhere, dirty plates that hadn't been taken down to be cleaned yet. Even his wand had been thrown onto the floor. The curtains were drawn with only a small slit down the middle letting some light shine down onto the floor.

He looked to the bed, George was awake, he had his eyes on Ron but they seemed not to be there. He shut the door and sat down at the foot of the bed. He gave George the once over before he spoke, his orange hair had lost its vibrancy and was limp on his head. His skin was even paler and had bags under his eyes, making him look like a corpse.

'George.' he called, his voice was quiet and timid. He wasn't sure his words had reached him so he tried again. 'George, are you OK?'

The only reaction he got was a blink of the eyes.

'I know you're hurting.' he said. 'But so are Mum and Dad, so am I and Ginny. I know it may not be the same for me and Ginny, seeing as you were twins and would do everything together but we miss him too. Mum's going out of her head with worry over you. None of us are happy. None of us have moved on, but we've got to go on as normal or we'll go insane with grief. Mum's nearly there. Please, please help her …'

This was true, Molly had been so worried about losing another son that she had hardly done anything this past month correctly. She had charmed the food to be scrubbed in the sink and the plates to fly out of the window one dinnertime. Ginny had asked her to stitch up her top a few days ago, and not being able to find her wand(which was by her ear), she stuck Ginny with a needle in the stomach. She always looked as though she too was going mad but she tried to keep it together in front of the rest of the family.

'No one in the house is thinking straight, even though they try to hide it, I can tell. We miss you too, George.' he said. 'George, please speak to me.' Ron pleaded.

'You're being selfish!' Ron yelled as he lifted his head up from the spot on the floor he'd been thoroughly examining since he sat down and looked at his brother. There were tears in his eyes. The first Ron had seen since they had come home.

All the anger left him as he stood up and walked to the head of the bed, sat down next to George and took him in his arms. Then George let it out, he let it all out. Ron tried to hold back his own tears as he tried to comfort him. It was a weird feeling, comforting his older brother, but it was right.

'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I shouldn't have shouted. I miss him too. I miss Fred too … Things will get better soon, I promise.'