It was everywhere: curses, screams, bodies flying about. And George Weasley was dashing through the middle of it all. Voldemort's voice had echoed through the grounds, and George was hurrying back to the Great Hall, to find his family and Fred. They promised they would meet back whenever a announcment was made to share their stories of who's butts they've kicked so far.

George skidded around a corner, nearly running down his best friend, Lee Jordan. "Hey, Lee!" He greeted cherrfully.

Lee, however, stared at George with wide eyes and a look of serious pity. "George...but...have you...?" He sputtered out.

George held up a hand, smill smiling some. "Not now, Lee. Gotta get back to the family, they're probably worried sick. And Fred, he's waiting to hear my story."

Lee opened his mouth, but George was already going off down the hall, deadheading for the Great Hall straight ahead. He halted right inside, swivling his head around, looking for the group of red hair. Finally, he spotted them off in a corner. He sighed with relief, not counting how many were crowded around whatever they were crowded around.

Then Charlie turned to look around. He saw George and George could see his intake of breath. Charlie must be relieved to see him. George began towards them and Charlie shook his head slowly, staring down. Mr. Weasley noticed Charlie's reaction and when he saw George striding to them, he nudged his wife.

Mrs. Weasley glanced at George and began sobbing harder.

George froze, halfway to them, and sensed a sudden pain. Percy and Ron were in the way, and all George saw were a dead person's waist and legs, shealthed in battered jeans. George's breath caught in his throat and he focused hard in his thoughts.

Bill.

It had to be.

Bill was nowhere to be seen at the moment.

And he saw Fleur. She was crying too.

It just had to be Bill then.

Trying to breath, George slowly took a step forward and when Ron shifted. George chocked on a sob.

Bill was holding Fleur.

No.

No.

George moved muttering the word "No.", moved until he was right behind Ron and Percy.

Everyone moved around and George saw him. Fred was laying mostinless and dangerously pale, blood still gently running out from a cut across his forehead.

George's legs went out and he found himself kneeling, Fred's head in his lap.

"What happened?" He asked hoarsely, staring down at his twin's gone face.

It was Percy who answered.

"Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, and I had all been grouped together. A Death Eater made the wall behind us explode. Fred...he...he was under it. It crushed him, killing him instantly." When George moaned, Percy hurridly tried to comfort him. "But, I doubt he felt anything!"

Mrs. Weasley silenced him and the family let George sob quietly, stroking his brother's vivid red hair, remembering. Remembering how he'd said his final words to Fred.

George ducked as a curse flew right above his head, the last thing he needed was to loose another ear. Fred looked up, and suddenly dived on top of George, both twins fell to the hard stone flooring. Grinning, and confused, George playfully shoved Fred off of him.

"What's up, Freddie?"

Fred rolled off him, grinning the same. "You almost got hit!"

George rolled his eyes but helped his brother up, glancing around them. The time had arrived and George felt like he was ripping hisself in two and was leaving the other half while his half left. Fred's eyes told George that he was feeling the same way and when Fred grabbed George's wrists, George looked into his deep, green eyes. They looked to lively, yet deeply saddened.

"George..."

"Fred..."

They said no more, warpping their arms around eachother and clinging on, like it was life. When the twins pulled away, after a few minutes, George and Fred's faces were identical smiles, ready for this.

"See you, Georgie. I love ya."

"See ya, Freddie. I love ya, too."

They grabbed eachother's hands, held tightly, and turned around. Without looking back at eachother, they dashed into the middle of battle. And as George spun in place to delfect a hex, he saw Fred backing away around a corner, and they caught eachother's eyes, smiling for the last time.

George sat on the soft grass. Next to him was a headstone. Engraved, Fred's name, dates, and George's own personal message. It had been two years since the passing. The battle, The day.

George sighed.

"Well. It's been two years. Two, long, hard years." He paused, smiling despite himself. "But actually, I'm shocked. I'm not a wreck. When I was there, holding your limp body, I couldn't understand how I'd ever be able to go on. But, I have.

"They've made the difference. Our family, Harry, and Hermione. Without them, I'd have wasted away, I'd probably be here next to you. But, I'm not." George drew in a breath. "Mum, she's stopped giving me pity filled looks, and helping me go on. Dad's still crazy, old dad. Which helps, knowing he hasn't changed because of these events. Anyways, I thought I'd get you up to date on everything, and everyone."

George hugged his shoulders as the crsip, fall wind bit through his jacket.

"Ginny, she's still tough, little Ginny. But she's almost as tall as me! Us Weasleys, we're pretty tall and I always knew she'd have that gene, too. She's gotten more mature, but still acts like a little tomboy, sometimes. Hermione still comes over everyday, but we go to her house on the weekends. Her parents and sister are very sweet, and they are fun to play soccer with. It's a fun Muggle sport, you know." George half smiled, drifting into the thought.

"Hermione kind of had a thing for you. She admitted it a few weeks ago. She could tell us apart, and really admired you. That's why she won't wind up with Ron, you know. But Ron's getting better. Some. He's still annoying, potty-mouthed Ickle Ronnikens. But he's learning his mannors, slowly.

"Harry has moved in, his own room is down the hall from ours, that nice guestroom."

George froze when something out of the corner of his eye moved in the leaves.

"I've lost you, buddy. And mum, she knows how I'm feeling. Sorta. She lost her baby, the child she gave birth to. Something about losing your child sends a mother into hysterics."

George whiped away fresh tears and leaned around to read the back of the headstone. Hermione had made him listen to a song by some muggle American called Phil Collins. His song had inspired George. Now the lyrics rested on the cool, smooth surface of the grave.

Put your faith in what you most believe in
Two worlds, one family
Trust your heart
Let fate decide
To guide these lies we see

A paradise untouched by man
Within this worlds blessed with love
A simple life, they live in peace

Softly tread the sand below your feed now
Two worlds, one family
Trust your heart
Let fate decide
To guide these lives we see

Beneath the shelter of the trees
Only love can enter here
A simple life, they live in peace

Raise your head up
Lift high the load
Take strength from those that need you
Build high the walls
Build strong the beams
A new life is waiting
But danger's no stranger here

No words describe a mother's tears
No words can heal a broken heart
A dream is gone, but where there's hope

Somewhere something is calling for you
Two worlds, one family
Trust your heart
Let fate decide
To guide these lives we see

Family. In these two, seperate worlds that Fred and George were now living in.

Humming the song to himself, George shifted over so he was sitting directly in front of the grave.

Right on top of Fred.

No matter how many times he came here, no matter how many years will go by, George cannot believe his twin brother, his once so lively, happy, and amazing twin, was dead underneath his body. Under the grass and dirt, in a sealed coffin. There was no getting him out, and no seeing him again.

Never.

After two years, two lonely years, the realization finally set in.

Fred was gone.

Gone forever.

George bit his lip, then hopped up. He had no clue what to do now, possibly go back to The Burrow for lunch, or maybe head to Hermione's for another game of soccer.

Then another thought dawned on him. He hadn't pranked anyone since before Fred's death.

George hadn't dared, knowing this was his and Fred's thing, it felt wrong to go on without him, and George just hadn't felt the spark of happiness he ususally got before pulling a prank.

"Come on, you know you want to." A whispy voice said behind George.

He spun around, alarmed, but saw no one. He searched desperatley for the source of the voice.

No one.

"Just go, I'll be watching." It told him, laughing openly.

George felt his mouth turning up at the corners and felt Fred's spirit give him a little shove. George stumbled forward from the force and, without looking back, he pulled out his wand and apparated back.

The family was gathered around the table, enjoying a lunch, when George popped in. They all greeted him and Mrs. Weasley hugged her son. And when everyone had turned away, George hurried to his and Fred's room. There was one pocket-sized firework left.

Perfect.

He came back down, clutching it in his hand, and sat down beside Harry.

"I hope everyone isn't too busy to help me prepare for Charlie's wedding tomarrow, right?" Mrs. Weasley stared them down and they all shook their heads.

"Of course not!" Hermione called out, beaming.

George took his chance and slipped the firework into Harry's soup.

Harry turned back to it and George counted silently in his head.

One....two....THREE

KABAM!

Everyone ran out of the kitchen as the firework set the table on fire and blew up. Mrs. Weasley, Percy, and Hermione glared at Ron and Harry. But they only shrugged.

"Sorry, mum." George grinned cheekily.

Everyone faced him, looking flabbergasted. "G-George?"

"Yeah?"

"That was you?" Mrs. Weasley asked, eyes wide.

He nodded, grinning.

Then Ginny errupted. "He's back! George is back!"

Everyone, even Mrs. Weasley, started and embraced George tightly. Over Ron's head, George saw him leaning against the wall, his head cocked and smiling ruefully.

George winked at him and Fred saluted him. Then he disappeared.