Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Fred would not have died, and I wouldn't be writing this. Also, the quote on the tombstone is by E. E. Cummings.

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Nineteen Years Later

The man walked between the headstones. The names and dates stood out clearly on the marble, marking the graves of so many men and women. He recognized some names as he passed. Colin Creevey . . . Remus Lupin . . . Nymphadora Tonks Lupin . . . But the man did not stop to pay his respects. He was looking for one grave in particular, and he knew exactly where to find it.

As he approached the tombstone, his pace quickened. Realizing this, he slowed down, only to speed up again moments later. The tombstone loomed ever nearer until he came to a halt in front of it.

The tombstone was made out of marble, so the engraving was still readable, even though nineteen years had passed since it was erected. The man slowly knelt in front of the tombstone as he read the familiar words written there:

Fredrick Gideon Weasley

Born 1 April 1978

Died 13 June 1998

The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.

The man placed a trembling hand on the top of the smooth headstone.

"Hey, Fred," he whispered. "It's me, George. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I wanted to talk to you anyway."

He paused, struggling to find the right words.

"I miss you, mate. You don't know what it's like living without your twin. Although, I guess you do. Only, for you, you're waiting for me." George felt a smile tug at his lips. "At least you'll be the better looking one by the time I die, right, bro?"

George sighed and looked up at the leaves of the elder tree that was planted several meters from the graveyard, overlooking all of those who had fallen at the battle against the Death Eaters. The tree had been planted as a reminder to those still a live why those who were buried there had died.

"For the greater good," whispered George. Shaking his head clear of those thoughts, he turned them instead, to his twin brother.

"Fred is coming tomorrow, for school you know? But I doubt he'll visit until the weekend. Even then I have my doubts. He's a lot like you, Fred. You'd be proud of your nephew and all the trouble he's caused with his cousin James. Between the two of them, I'm surprised ol' Minerva hasn't died of a heart attack yet."

George licked his lips before going on.

"It doesn't fell right, you know? It's been nineteen years. Nineteen years. Twice my lifetime since the battle. You'd think I'd be able to get used to having no twin around to finish my sentences or come up with new ideas for the store with. But I can't get used to it.

"Maybe it's because I can't say goodbye. I don't want to say goodbye, though. If I do that, I'd feel like I was giving you up for good. And I can't do that."

George stood up, brushing the dirt off of the knees of his pants. He placed his hand on the face of the tombstone, right over Fred's name.

"Once a twin, always a twin," he whispered. Louder, he added, "See you later, Fred."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, George left, retracing his steps back to the edge of the graveyard. He lingered at the last row of tombstones. He couldn't be sure, but for a moment as a gust of wind blew past, he thought he heard another voice, whispering back to him.

"See you later, George."

Shaking his head, he looked back one last time at his twin's grave before turning around and heading home.