The date was May 2nd, 1999.
The Wizarding World was, to say the least, cheerful. Pubs all around the world were filled with people, drinking and celebrating the one year anniversary of the death of Lord Voldemort. They drank to Harry Potter, to Dumbledore, to everyone.
At home, little kids played outside without worry, and at Hogwarts, they celebrated with a feast so big that all the residents of muggle London could have joined them. The parties in the common rooms lasted all night, and most of the next day, if anyone was still awake after all the fire whiskey that had been snuck in from Hogsmeade.
But not everyone in the Wizarding World was happy.
George Weasley certainly wasn't.
He stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the flat that was above Weasley Wizard Wheezes. George was wearing his normal everyday attire; just a t-shirt and some old muggle jeans that his dad had bought for him last Christmas. His hair was a little bit longer and shaggier, and he had a little bit of stubble on his chin, but he didn't mind. He wasn't trying to impress anyone, so why care about his appearance?
With a sigh, George ran a hand through his hair, remembering what day it was. Molly would want him at the Burrow, so they could all have a nice family dinner, and try to forget everything that had happened.
But it wasn't really a family dinner if one was missing.
Trying to ignore these thoughts, George grabbed his traveling cloak, threw it over his shoulder, walked downstairs, and disapperated with a sudden POP!
When he arrived at the Burrow, the familiar aroma of his mother's home made cooking immediately filled his nose. He walked inside, with a fake smile plastered on his face.
Molly was at the sink, cutting up carrots and other things. Ron was at the table, reading over that day's Daily Prophet. Percy was feeding his old owl Errol, Bill, Fleur, and Charlie still hadn't arrived, and George guessed Ginny was up in her room getting ready. Since it was a special occasion, Hogwarts had requested a small break, so families could celebrate this day together.
"Hey mum," George said as he pulled of his cloak and hung it on the rack by the door as he walked inside.
"Georgie!" Molly set down her knife and ran to hug him.
"Mum…can't-breathe-"
"Oh, sorry dear, it's just that I missed you so much!" she hugged him again and buried her head into the crook of his neck.
"I missed you too, mum."
"I made your favorite, mashed potatoes and gravy! Bill and fleur should be here soon, and Charlie will be a little late, so we'll have to postpone dinner by and hour or so. Is that alright?"
"Yeah, that's fine mum, I don't mind waiting."
"Are you okay Georgie? You seem a little sad."
"No, I'm perfectly fine mum. Nothing to worry about." Lies. To make it more believable, George smiled widely.
"Alright then. Ron, can you help me with these carrots?"
George walked around the house, looking at all the old photos that held thousands of memories.
He and Fred in Ollivander's playing with their new wands, pointing them at things to try and make them fly. One picture was he and Fred flying for the first time in the backyard when they were eight. The third was the two of them laughing with Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione at the Quidditch World Cup. In one, George was throwing up into a bucket after eating their first Puking Pastilles, but smiling widely, giving a thumbs-up. And the most recent one was just after they left Hogwarts, a picture of them standing together in front of their shop.
George walked away from the photographs before he could start crying.
He walked upstairs to their old bedroom, only to find boxes of junk that they had left behind.
"George, dinner's ready!" Had it been an hour already? He walked downstairs. Everyone was seated in their normal seats: Molly and Arthur as the head and feet of the table, Charlie next to Molly and Bill next to Arthur. Fleur was next to Bill. Percy was across from Ron, who sat next to Ginny. Ginny sat next to George, and George sat next to Fred.
Or, Fred's empty seat, now.
They prayed, and since George didn't have Fred's hand to hold, he just set his hand on the table sadly.
They didn't talk about Fred at all during dinner. They didn't talk about much, actually. Just about the work that Charlie was doing in Romania, or how Ginny was doing in her classes at school.
Dinner was soon over, and Bill and Fleur left to go home, and Charlie apperated back to work. Ginny went back upstairs to pack to go back to school in the morning, and Ron went right to bed because he was a lazy potato. Molly and Arthur cleaned up the kitchen together, and Percy went back home. The house seemed empty without everyone living in it.
George found himself blindly getting up from the table. He walked past the Family Clock that had hung on the wall since before he was born. George found himself searching for his brother's name on the clock, and grimacing as he noticed it was still locked on 'lost'.
Thick tears threatened to spill from his lashes, but he hurriedly blinked them away before anyone could see.
"I'm going for a walk mum," he called as he took his cloak from the rack and pulled it over his shoulders.
"Don't be long George, you'll catch a cold," Mrs. Weasley replied as George stepped out into the cold night.
It had certainly gotten cooler as the night passed, and the sun was long gone. The silvery light from the moon guided George to the very back of their garden, on the edge of the woods that surrounded the Burrow.
That's where Fred rested.
It was a simple gravestone, with the words:
Fred Weasley
1 April, 1978 – 2 May, 1998
"Alright there, Freddie?" George asked with a sniffle. He sat down in front of the grave, a stared at his brother's name engraved on the rock. He took a deep breath.
"Mum misses you a lot. They all do, really. I saw her looking at your empty seat at the table tonight, and she looked so sad, Freddie."
George bowed his head and played with his shoe laces.
"I can't believe it's already been a year," he said as a hot tear slid down his cheek. "The shop's been so different without you. Ron's been helping, but he isn't as creative as you. He doesn't get it, Freddie. All our inside jokes, all our pranks… he doesn't get it."
The tears were flowing freely now.
"I try so hard to be strong sometimes… it's just… I miss you so much!" George cried, knowing that no one could hear him. "Every day I look in the mirror, and I see you looking back at me, and I can't stand it! I put a smile on my face and act like everything is okay, but it isn't! I wake up every morning thinking you're going to be downstairs cooking breakfast or getting the shop ready downstairs, but you aren't. I have to walk past your bedroom every day, and try not to cry because I miss you so much. I look at all our old photos, and think back to those memories. I wish I could have hugged you more, told you I love you more.
"Remember that time when we made that Aging Potion in 6th year, so we could get into the Triwizard Tournament? I wish that wasn't the only time we saw each other old. If I had known you would've left me so early, I would have made us do more of that kind of stuff. Or remember when we trashed Hogwarts with fireworks? I'll never forget that day, Freddie, never ever. Or the time we tried to lock Ron in a pyramid in Egypt, or when we stole dad's car to go rescue Harry. You're not the best driver, by the way." George smiled weakly at the memory.
"Nothing's the same without you, Fred. You're my other half, the beginning to all our jokes. You're never there to break those awkward silences anymore. I just stand there now, wishing you'd come down and say something. I think we all miss you running around the house tricking mum and Perce with fake wands. Ginny wants you to come to her graduation.
"Angelina and I have started talking again. She misses you a lot too. The other day I found her just staring at a picture of you, and I had to take it away and hide it because she didn't want to stop looking at you. She said she didn't want to forget you. She really loved you, you know.
"I love you too, Freddie, I hope you know that. I wish that I could have said it more. Do you think about me, do you watch over me? I hope so, because I think about you every day."
"I really, really miss you, Freddie."
George leaned forward and kissed the top of his brother's grave.
"I love you," he whispered. George got up, wiped the tears from his stained cheeks, and headed back to house.
But it wasn't a good bye after all, not really.
They'd be reunited one day.
One day, Gred and Forge would live on.
Well, that was kind of sad… but I felt that in honor of Fred, and George, my two favorite partners in crime, I'd do this for them. :)
Please review as this is my first story; it'd make my day :)
Thanks!