Chapter One: Harry

"Open your eyes like I opened mine, it's only the real world,

Like you will never know,

Shifting your way to throw off the pain,

Well you can ignore it,

But only for so long,"

-Careful, Paramore.

"George". My name comes creeping across the dark bedroom. It means nothing anymore without its prefix. Funny how my name was never first. Probably cos I'm the lesser twin. I was. Without Fred I would never had gotten anywhere, in Quidditch, school, friends, girls. I would have been nothing. Maybe that's what I've become. Maybe it's some cosmic order. Whoever dies first. I can't find an example. I'm feeling too empty to back up anything. I'm lying face down on my stripped bed. The sight of my own hair spread on my pillow was even upsetting me, for fuck's sake. My eyes are screwed together and my face is in some crappy grey pillow. I stink. I say that like I can actually get up and go for a shower. Functioning normally. The part of me that's still reasonable is laughing sarcastically. My name comes from near the door again...Footsteps are coming towards me, followed by an extra weight on the end of the bed. Just speak. I CAN'T. I'm suddenly feeling incredibly pissed off at whoever's bothered to come in. At least they have. I'm sick of people whispering outside my door all the time.

"What?" That's all I can muster. Just look at them. Don't bother. They'll try and say something pathetic in a second and you'll tell who it is by their voice.

"You stink" the voice says wryly. Not bad. Harry. The one person's actions I won't be able to predict.

"Why don't you go back to eating my sister's face and being a substitute son to my mother, it's what you do best." I don't mean that. Why did I say that? There's a pause.

"Have you even eaten today?" he continues with a fake airiness. Hermione's rubbing off.

"You're not my mother you know" I muttered.

"True. I'm not very good at this"

"Who the fuck is?"

I sensed him take a deep breath. He began hesitantly;

"You look like I did... You resist me just like it. I can't tell you to heal. It hurts remembering how it felt to shut down. Right now you're feeling angry and empty and you probably don't think you'll feel happy or normal again. I also know it's about a hundred times worse for you. I don't know what to say, but I just want you to know that I understand. You're not alone in this. Appreciate that. I had no one."

That's a mouthful for him. Hasn't resolved any of my issues or anything, close but no cigar. I'm having such an out-of-body experience. That was weirdly mature. Harry was always mature, but not like that. Imagine him when he's thirty.

"So can I tell the others that it's ok to come in?"

"No, it's not really, but I have a feeling you will anyway, tell them to bring a cup of tea or something"

Harry gave me a quick grin, and produced one from under the bed.

"Thanks."

Author's Note: Turns out I can't go to bed at night without writing. The guts of this was written on my phone, as opposed to my usual pen and paper, while staying at my granny's house. Yes, I shamelessly stole from Paramore in Harry's speech. I was going to make this better, but had a compulsive urge to post it today, because of the day that's in it :) This was going to be a one-shot, but will probably develop into a series of how different people help George after Fred dies. The quote and the story make up 530 words. The thirty at the end's deliberate XD Harry is comparing George's situation to how he felt after Sirius died, but I've suddenly realised it could apply to Dumbledore, so pick which ever one you want. I've realised that I can't write a fanfic without the f-word (don't know why I'm calling it that, I've already used it). I'm also a bit addicted to missing moments. And long A/N's. Sorry dudes! The italics are sort of the bits of George that can still appreciate things, think rationally, love etc. Rest of it is his angry, bitter mess. The title's a bit random, but what can you do :P

I'm not J.K Rowling , I own nothing. Please review! It's one of the main reasons I write fanfics to be honest.

Thank you for reading, you lovely people.