A/N: Based on the song "That's Not Her Picture" by John Michael Montgomery.


George sat in the Three Broomsticks, staring into his half-empty glass of firewhiskey. It was after midnight and the pub was mostly empty and unusually quiet. Even the barmaid, Madam Rosmerta, simply sat behind the bar, reading a book in the candlelight, glancing up every so often to see if her few customers needed tending to.

For lack of anything better to do, as he didn't feel like drinking his firewhiskey at that time, George pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He had bought it on a whim from a Muggle shop and didn't even keep anything in it. He opened it anyway and looked at the only thing in there: a picture. When he bought the wallet he thought it was a hoot that Muggles had already put a picture in there, so he left it. But tonight, he looked at the picture lovingly, tenderly, smiling a little even though his heart was breaking.

Because it was a Muggle picture, it didn't move, but George could tell the woman was laughing. She looked genuinely happy, her long blonde hair hanging around her shoulders.

He started to pull the picture out, but found that he simply couldn't. That came as no surprise to him as he had tried to do that same thing several times over the past month. But he couldn't bear to get rid of that picture, that almost-perfect embodiment of innocence.

George had met perfect innocence, and, thinking back to that moment he started getting close, he couldn't help but smile.


After the war ended, George moved back into his and Fred's flat above their shop in Diagon Alley. But he knew it would be far too quiet with Fred gone, so he invited someone who needed somewhere to stay for a few weeks to be his temporary roommate.

"Is that a Blibbering Humdinger outside the window?" Luna dropped her bag on the floor and ran to the small window, pushed it open and leaned halfway out. As most of her body was hanging out over the street, George ran forward and grabbed her legs to keep her from falling.

"Um, Luna?" George said as he pulled her back inside, "Why don't you go downstairs and try to see it from there?"

"That's a good idea. I would probably scare it by being so close." As she skipped down the stairs, George wondered what exactly had possessed him to ask Luna to move in. Sure her house was destroyed and her dad was missing, but why couldn't she stay at the Burrow?

"Because," George reminded himself, "it's far too crowded in the Burrow. That's why you came back here. Charlie and Percy are staying for a few months and Harry and Hermione are staying indefinitely. If that weren't enough, Mum is refusing to let Mr. Ollivander go home because she thinks he's too weak, and Andromeda Tonks and baby Teddy are staying for a while, as well. To top it all off, the ghoul decided that it like Ron's room and is refusing to leave. There was simply no room for Luna, but Mum couldn't turn her away. So, of course, you opened you big mouth and said she could stay with you until she goes back to school in September."

George picked up her carpet bag and turned to toss it onto the bed, only to have it split along the bottom seam.

"Crap," George muttered as Luna's few outfits, books, photographs, and other odd possessions spilt out over the floor. He knelt down, repaired the bag, and began stuffing everything back in. The last thing he grabbed was a photo of Luna on a boat, pointing at something in the water.

"That was my trip to Sweden with Father."

George turned around and looked at Luna standing in the doorway.

"There was a Crumple-Horned Snokack in the water. By the time he turned the camera that way, it was gone."

"Did you ever see another one?" George heard himself ask. He didn't know why he bothered if they weren't real.

"Not while we had the camera with us. You can keep that if you want. It's just a copy. The original is in my scrapbook." Luna pulled a large blue and bronze book out of her bag. On the cover was a small plaque with a moon on it. She handed it to him and motioned for him to look through it, then turned to unpack her stuff.

The first few pages had old covers of the Quibbler on them, obvious among them being the issue in which Harry had given an exclusive interview, the rights to which Xenophilius sold to fund the trip to Sweden. There were pictures of a young Luna with both of her parents and some unanimated sketches of Neville, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and herself. Then, towards the back, were a few pictures from the trip, the one he held in his hand among them.

He noticed how, in the pictures, she was happy, innocent, carefree. Then, looking at her now, he noticed a sadness, the worn-down look in her eyes of someone who has seen too much.

He looked back at the picture in his hand. "You know," he said, "I think I will keep this picture. I'll let you finish unpacking." He got up and left the room as she continued to hang clothes in the small wardrobe.


George was still staring at the picture of the Muggle woman, lost in his memories. The woman had the same oval face as Luna did, although the model's chin was slightly pointed. Her eyes were pale and wide open, like she had just walked into her own surprise party.

The arched eyebrows were so pale, they were almost nonexistent. But it was the crystal earrings dangling from the Muggle woman's ears that looked so much like Luna's own Dirigible Plums, those bright orange radishes, that made his heart lift and reminded him of the last time he saw those earrings: the night before Luna went back to Hogwarts.


Over those few weeks, George had found himself in love with Luna. Her quirks didn't bother him anymore. Anything she wanted, he gave her. He woke up in the morning not wanting to wait to see her. When he did see her, his heart soared. She was a huge help getting the shop reorganized for its Grand Re-Opening, and George was happy to spend as much time as possible with her.

It had been decided that Luna would Floo to the burrow on the morning of September 1 and go with the rest of the Weasleys to Platform 9 and 3/4 while George and his few employees handled the re-opening.

On the night of August 31, George took Luna over to the Burrow to drop her trunk off so she wouldn't have to worry about it in the morning. Mrs. Weasley set up a huge dinner to celebrate Ginny and Luna starting their last year at Hogwarts. Luna had succeeded in making a pair of Dirigible Plum earrings from the ones growning outside her ruined house. Her original pair had been in her trunk that was taken away when she had been kidnapped the previous Christmas. She had worked all week making them by hand and was wearing them for the first time tonight.

After dinner, George and Luna Apparated back to the flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"I'm probably going to leave pretty early tomorrow morning, so I'll be out of the way when the store opens," Luna said. Then she threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you so much for letting me stay here." She gave him a peck on the cheek and gave him one more squeeze before flouncing into her room and shutting the door.

"No...problem," George stammered, his hand touching his cheek where she had kissed him. As he went to his own room and got ready for bed, he decided that, come morning, he would tell her how he really felt.

He didn't get to. When he got up, her bedroom door was oper and her overnight bag and few other things were gone. She had left early, just like she said she would.

"Don't freak out, George," he told himself. "She'll probably stay with Ginny for Christmas break, it they haven't found her dad by then. Either way, she'll be back in Ottery St. Catchpole in a few months. You can tell her then."

December came, and George accompanied the rest of the Weasleys to pick up Ginny from the Hogwarts Express. George caught a fleeting glimpse of Luna carrying her trunk through the barrier, accompanied by a tiny, mousy-haired boy.

When they arrived back at the Burrow, Ginny talked nonstop. She talked about the new Quidditch teams, the new teachers, and new relationships.

"Guess who Luna is dating?" Ginny gushed. When no one answered in half a second, she cried out, "Dennis Creevey! Colin's little brother! She's actually spending Christmas with him and his dad. Sure, she's two years older, but whatever..."

George tuned out the rest of Ginny's updates. Luna was seeing someone else. He'd lost her to someone else because he hadn't told her his feelings soon enough.

After dinner, he went back to his flat, showered, pulled on his warmest pajamas, and was about to blow out his bedside candle when he saw the picture of Luna in Sweden sitting on the table. He couldn't bear to see that sweet face, unknowingly mocking his inability to express his feelings.

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he had picked up the picture and was ripping it, getting rid of that sweet face that was causing him so much pain. As the pieces fluttered to the ground, he hated himself. He had destroyed his one link to Luna for something that wasn't her fault. He felt like he was punishing her for something he did.

He didn't fix the picture though. He felt guilty for shredding it. He wasn't worthy of seeing her sweet smile. He had betrayed her. So, he left it as it was.


George removed himself from his thoughts and looked at the picture one last time. He folded up the wallet and put it in his back pocket. He often thought about "What if?" What if he told Luna how he felt? What if Fred were still alive? What if everything hadn't gone bad?

Maybe tonight, a month later, he would be able to sleep without looking at the pieces of the picture for five minutes where they still lay on the floor next to his bed.

He drained his firewhiskey and dug around in his money bag for the Sickles needed to pay for his drink.

He reached Madam Rosmerta behind the bar and dropped his money on the counter.

"You were looking at that picture pretty intently, George," Rosmerta commented. "Is she your girl?"

George just smiled and turned his back on her without answering. He headed out of the pub and Disapparated back to his flat.


A/N: So this was my very first fanfic that I wrote way back in June of 2008. Thought I should move all my old stuff to the sites I actually use now.