Author's Note: It's awful, I know, but bear with me. :3

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, or the songs, sadly. Being a millionaire would solve all of my problems... Anyway, the songs, in order of appearance: Broken Strings, by James Morrison featuring Nelly Furtado, Until You Were Gone by Chipmunk featuring Esme Denteers, and Heartbreak by Sophie Ellis-Bexter featuring the Freemasons.

George Weasley woke up screaming "Nooo!" for what felt like the millionth time.

He had been dreaming about his brother, Fred. He always did. Although – they weren't dreams. They were recurring nightmares – always the same...

Fred's death.

He breathed in deeply and shakily, then looked opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the calendar – a big, red circle on it.

Fred's funeral was today.

He was gonna have to leave the house today, for the first time since Fred's death.

For the first time in six days, he had to leave the house.

He sighed wearily, dragging himself out of bed slowly. He heaved himself into the shower and turned it on. Cold water cascaded over him – anyone else would have called it numbingly cold, but George was already numb.

He turned the shower off, towelled off, and walked back to his bed slowly. Even the easiest of tasks seemed hard. He turned his radio on.

"Running back through the fire, when there's nothing left to save. It's like chasing the very last train, when it's too late... too late –"

He switched stations, wondering why he ever got such a stupid Muggle device.

"I didn't know how much I'd miss you, until you were gone, gone, gone –"

Tears threatened. Before they could flood him and melt the frozen lake that was his heart, he pressed the button to change stations again.

"I've tried to hold myself together... tried to forget you've gone away... the tears I've cried... they won't subside..."

George hit the off button, tears pouring down his face. He wiped them away and got changed in silence, into the suit his mother had brought him for the funeral.

It had been hanging on his door, like a dark omen. Standing in front of his door, he took a deep breath before opening it.

He managed the stairs... somehow.

Since Fred's death, he'd been living back at the Burrow.

Molly Weasley looked up and smiled as she saw him. She hurried to his side. "George, dear, are you okay?" She asked, eyes full of concern.

Well, it wasn't as if she could mistake him for Fred anymore. Not that that was any comfort. If anything, it made it worse... knowing that he and Fred would never play mind games on people by pretending to be each other...

He shrugged and sat down at the table, pouring out some random type of cereal.

"Dear? You don't like Shreddies," his mother said gently.

He dug in, not caring. Everything tasted like cardboard, anyway. Stuff that was meant to be his favourite food tasted like cardboard. He finished and stood up, going outside to the car, where he waited until his father came out and unlocked it. He climbed in without a word to anyone and Ginny came outside with Hermione, who had come over with Harry, both looking beautiful but suitably tragic. Bill, Charlie and Percy were going separately, as they didn't live at home.

Ron came out of the house with Harry, both talking earnestly, but they stopped when they saw George. He rested his head miserably on the window and gazed out of it. His father got into the drivers' seat, his mother into the passenger seat.

The rest of them sat in the expanded back seat, Ron and Hermione holding hands, and Harry with his arm around Ginny, comforting her.

They arrived at the funeral and George sat through the hymns, the prayers, and the Bible readings, with his head bowed, but he didn't feel as bad as he had imagined he would feel. None of this felt like Fred. Especially not the stuff about the end of life, and Heaven.

Then Angelina Johnson, Fred's ex, got up in front of the mike. She was giving the eulogy. The family had asked her to, something George had had a hand in, before he holed himself up in his room for several days.

Angelina started, and everyone listened. "We're here today for Fred Weasley. Fred was the kind of guy who would be sitting here now getting bored stiff, making jokes and betting on how much longer I'm going to go on talking for."

There was a short ripple of laughter. "To Fred, laughter was everywhere. He made jokes out of everything, even if the occasion sometimes didn't call for it.

He never enjoyed exams, preferring to spend his time with his twin brother, making Canary Creams and Nosebleed Nougat. This may have contributed to his bad OWL results, but he never regretted that. He and George both dropped out of school in a spectacular fashion, and I believe that many others will follow in their footsteps."

There were a few chuckles in the audience. "Fred could liven up any occasion, no matter how boring or sad. I seem to remember the only time I ever saw him being serious was at Dumbledore's funeral. He was still laughing as he died.

But Fred had other attributes. He was incredibly brave. He risked his life to help Harry Potter to safety, and joined in the battle that ended Voldemort's life. In doing this, he lost his own life. And it is for this reason that we are here today.

But we are not only here to grieve; we are here to celebrate the beautiful 18 years of Fred's life. He touched many hearts, and helped make the world a better place. This is why we are here today; to celebrate the life of one so loved."

The whole hall was in tears by now, especially the Weasleys, who were all pretty much bawling their eyes out.

"So I hope you'll all remember Fred's happy times, as well as the sad times." She smiled through eyes filled with tears.

George went through the rest of the proceedings like it was a dream. He floated around, letting people pat him, hug him and tell him they were sorry. None of it felt real. It just couldn't be real. Fred couldn't be dead... he'd been too alive to die.

"Hey, George." Angelina was standing in front of him with a warm smile. "You must be feeling like crap. I'm sorry."

He nodded and a few seconds passed before he managed to speak. "Thanks... the eulogy..." he croaked.

She squeezed his arm and smiled slightly. "It's okay. I was touched that your family asked me to do it. I heard it was your idea?"

He shrugged and nodded. "Yeah..."

She nodded, stepped forward and hugged him gently. "Thanks..."

He managed to pull his mouth into a smile. "Hey, it's okay."

"What are friends for, huh?" She asked gently.

He shrugged, wishing for this to be over already so he could go home.

The weeks passed. For George, still in an almost catatonic state, every week was the same. But there was one thing that was changing...

His family were getting over it. Three weeks after Fred's death, his mother was laughing at something Lee had said. Two months after, Ron and Harry were teasing Ginny about how hard the NEWTs were supposed to be. Four months after, Fleur and Bill were announcing that she was pregnant.

George just couldn't move on. He had been the other half of a whole. Without Fred, he couldn't be.

Months passed. People tried to talk to him, and got only blank looks and shrugs for their troubles. He heard his parents talking about "depression" and sending him to see a specialist in teenage depression. They decided against sending him to see a psychiatrist, not wanting to upset him.

People walked on eggshells around him and mollycoddled him. But in the end, he wasn't coping. He didn't go into work – how could he, without Fred? – and barely ever left his room, never mind the house.

A/N: It's gonna be three chapters long, I think. Reviews welcome!