"Expecto Patronum!"
Nothing.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
He pauses to centre his thoughts again.
"EXPECTO-"
"EXPECTO-"
"EX-"
Suddenly he's on his knees in the mud, and he doesn't know if he's drowning in his own tears or if it's just the rain.
Angelina is suddenly there, and though she doesn't try to say anything; she just picks a spot beside him and kneels down too.
They stay that way together for an immeasurable infinity, and though she doesn't offer any sympathetic speech, or even a placating hand on his shoulder, her presence calms him, brings back a little peace to his aching heart.
He's long since given up on his Patronus and instead focuses on what he can do- he can carry on their joke shop, which Ron has really pitched in with. It's comforting, to carry on with someone who carries the same weights you do.
That's what he's done, he muses, watching his boy, named for the brother he loved and lost, as young Fred practices spells under the big oak in the yard.
As he watches, Fred gathers himself, scrunching his eyes closed tightly for a moment before waving his wand. Nothing's happening. He's about to retreat to the bedroom to check on little Roxie, who's been napping all afternoon.
But before he can turn away, the boy in the yard takes a deep breath and tries again.
He can't believe what he's seeing - a misty, half-formed songbird is flitting about the yard, swooping by the young child who chases it around the oak, laughing as he plays. His father, watching from the window, cries.
Months later, long after the children have gone back to school, George stands out in the yard, staring at the oak for the longest time, preparing himself.
He reflects on all the old happiest memories, almost relishing the sting of them. Almost giving in to the old grief.
Then he lets his mind wander on through his life. He skips past the wedding, a bittersweet day, and through almost all the days since, until he comes to last summer. Sees in his mind his boy laughing, playing, growing up so fast.
He takes a deep breath, fixates on the memory, just the one, where he's back at the window, and the boy stands where he is now. He remembers the laughter. And then he's ready.
Expecto Patronum!" He shouts, and there it is. There it's always been.
Angelina has come to watch while he's been in the yard, and she puts a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder.
"He would be so proud," she tells him through her tears.
