The Sun hid behind the tall trees around the Burrow and everything went dark, but the house still kept that glow and warmth that not even night or a fierce winter could beat. The lanterns went off in the garden, illuminating the dark yard, making it look like the night sky.

The Weasley family was gathered in their cosy living room. All Molly and Arthur's children were grownups now, and had their own families, but they still thought of the Burrow as their true home. And it was considered illegal to the Weasleys not to turn up to the Sundays Reunions.

However, this Sunday was special. It was Molly Weasley's ninety-eight birthday, and her eyes filled with tears while watching everyone chatting in the living room. She remembered the Dark Days, the worried and scared looks on everyone's faces, the fear that toured the country and took control of it.

"Mom, are you okay?" Molly raised her head and noticed everyone was looking at her. She couldn't recognise the voice that had worriedly asked her, but she could feel an arm over her shoulders.

"I- um-"She stammered until her voice became faintly whisper. But she didn't realised, as her eyes caught a red headed figure standing at the back of the room, his back against the wall. Molly's eyes sparked at the sight, and with her voice full of excitement she cried, "Freddie?!"

Someone gasped, but it was not clear who, as everyone had a mixture of emotions on their faces. Arthur tightened his grip on his cup of tea. Bill put an arm over her shoulders. Charlie crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Percy looked down in shame and guilt, in less than a second a tear rolled down his cheek. Ron looked away from all the people; holding Hermione's hand like there was no tomorrow. And Ginny kept a straight face, while Harry draw circles with his hand on her back.

George ran away. He evaded everyone's eyes as he closed the door to the kitchen, then sprinting out into the garden. He fell to the cold ground as water came pouring down his eyes. All of a sudden the garden stopped being warm, its glow disappeared and the memories came back, the ones George tried to avoid since the Battle of Hogwarts. He was losing the race, the image of his brother was catching up and George was losing his breath day by day.

He still wandered why he was still waking up each morning. Of course, he had his wife, his children, their children and the rest of the family. He was not alone but he still felt lonely. It was like a part of him had died, and it was chasing the rest of him, a never ending pain.

Angelina stood up and ran behind his husband, but her mother-in-law's voice stopped her. "Why did he left again?" She turned around and looked at the old woman, whose tears created rivers down her cheeks. Angelina noticed everyone was staring at Molly, but no one knew what to do. How could they tell her his son was dead? How could they tell her he was George, and Fred was gone?

"Mom, Fr-"Ron started but his mother cut him off.

"It's been years since I last saw him! I miss him, why does he keep leaving me?!"Molly cried. She hid her face behind her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Why her own son did avoid her? Had she done something wrong? Was she a bad mother?

"Molly..." Arthur sighed and put an arm on her back, trying to comfort his wife, but it was impossible.

"He hates me, Arthur! He does! He left me!" She repeated, again and again. She wouldn't stop.

"Molly..." The old man bend down in front of his wife. He looked into her blue eyes, red from crying, full of sadness. He started crying, he couldn't see her like that. He loved her so much. "Molly, he-"

Footsteps. Arthur's voice was drowned by footsteps coming from the kitchen. Everyone's heads turned in that direction, surprised when they saw George coming into the living room. He couldn't see them though; he was looking down at the floor, trying not to see her mother, because he would start crying once more.

"Freddie... you came back?" Molly's voice sounded like a whisper, a beautiful whisper. It felt like a flower growing on spring, its colourful petals dancing with the wind.

"I'm George, not Fred! Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother!"

Then suddenly Molly's expression changed. Her tears were now falling terribly, but she stood up. She could barely walk, and everyone was still amused by George's response that they were thunderstruck. Molly hobbled towards his son, who looked down at her regrettably.

"I'm sorry, George... I-I forgot..." She broke down into a mess of tears and sobs. And winter came to Molly's face, killing the colourful flower.

Suddenly, a grin appeared on George's face. "Only joking, I'm Fred."

Molly's eyes widened and he threw herself over his son, wrapping her chubby weak but warm arms over him. She pressed her head against his chest, breathing in his scent and closing her eyes to the sound of his heartbeat.

Spring came back to Molly's face.