The World Must Go On Turning

Tick… tick… tick…

The clock above an empty bed struck midnight, but was muffled quickly by a silencing charm. Everything was silent in the crusty old room, as a once undying presence lingered away. The ticking of the clock was quickly replaced by sniffling. Pathetic, cold, lonely sniffling.

"George, dear," said a quiet voice from the corner. Mrs. Weasley leaned against the frame of the door, running her fingers up and down on worn grain. "Dinner is in an hour," she continued. Only to the Weasleys was it somewhat normal to eat dinner at such a late hour. All of them had been falling asleep in the early hours of the morning, and sleeping until late in the afternoon. "But, if you don't want to come down… I-I understand. I can bring it up for you. But you have to eat. I don't want you starving yourself over this."

Only a grunt in return. Mrs. Weasley shuffled out of the room without another word. She had obviously been tearing herself apart at the death of one of her songs. Even since the final battle, a huge presence in the house was gone. George was still there, but he was nothing without his partner.

Fred Weasley's death was very honorable; just how he would have wanted it, George kept reminding himself. He had been battling Bellatrix Lestrange, when she hissed those fatal words.

Avada Kadavra

The words burned painfully in his memory. It sparked emotions and thoughts that he didn't even know he was capable of having.

In his dreams, Death welcomed him with a warm, loving embrace. It had the power to hiss "welcome home," while a shady figure, distorted in every way possible, lead him to his destiny.

A light knock at the door joined in the ticking of the suddenly un-silenced clock.

George didn't respond. Whoever it was should have known that he was not welcome here.

"George?" a wispy voice behind the door said. "George," it repeated as the door opened. Ginny, face stained with tears, approached her older brother. She held out a plate of rice and what looked vaguely like vegetable stew.

"I don't want it."

A scowl made its way cross Ginny's face. "Why not?" she asked harshly. "You haven't moved in days."

"Because--"

"Because he's not here?" Ginny interrupted. "Because you're nothing without your twin? You know its fine to grieve. I understand, but dwelling on it won't do any good."

"You don't understand," George snapped.

"He was my brother too!"

He glanced over at her, eyes full of guilt. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I--"

"Got caught up?" Ginny finished. "Yeah, everybody has been… Since Fred… then Neville…" She sniffed quietly. "We were really close, you know. Lestrange got to him too…"

George took a staggered breath. In all his grief, he had forgotten about everybody else. He was not the only Weasley suffering the loss of a brother. He had not been the only one who cried himself to sleep at night.

"Do you think Fred would've wanted us to stay on this forever?" Before he could answer, Ginny continued. "What he would like," she said, a weak smile appearing on her face. "Would be a giant prank, in his name!"

George just stared at her. It was a good idea, he had to admit, but it seemed so inappropriate.

"C'mon!" Ginny put the plate of food down on a rickety desk. "There's a time for crying, and a time for celebrating. Two weeks is enough! Its our turn to celebrate and move on."

A familiar grin lit up Georges face. "Let's do it."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Ron," Mrs. Weasley croaked. "Hand me my wand." Ron obeyed silently, picking up the neat wand and slapping it on the table next to her. "You know, you shouldn't be tearing yourself up like this when there are other," she jerked her head towards the stairs, "who are suffering also."

CRACK!

Ginny and George sniggered from their positions at the top of the stairs. Mrs. Weasley had said the magic world. A vibrant orange water balloon fell from the ceiling and landed on Mrs. Weasley's head with a splash!

Right after, more water balloons fell, covering every inch of the Weasley kitchen in either water or saturated bits of brightly colored rubber.

Suddenly, a sparkler flew by loudly, emitting high pitched screeches.

A banner fell from the ceiling. It was made of a red fabric, and across it, writing in gold was

Remember Fred Weasley.