SPOILERS FOR 7th HARRY POTTER BOOK! SERIOUSLY, IF YOU READ THIS BEFORE YOU READ THE BOOK YOU WILL SUDDENLY BE ENGULFED BY MURDEROUS INTENT AND I REALLY WOULDN'T WANT THAT TO HAPPEN!

Summary: Voldemort is dead. It's the day after that devastating final battle and all is well in the burrow. Well sure a lot of people are dead and George is both earless and twinless but hey, Voldemort's dead. It seemed like a good start towards happiness at the time until loneliness started to take it's toll on the twin who lived.

Disclaimer: I know, I know… I don't own anything. I'm not that brilliant of a writer yet to own anything like Harry Potter considering I'm really not that old…

Note: This is a sad story but I daresay it'll be a lot happier than you would expect. Especially for a story about the death of one of my favorite characters… George was always my number one fav but I admit little pebbles of teardrops started to well up in my eyes when Fred died. And I never cry during books or movies. So this is like, big. Well not really, I'll just get on with the story m'kay? (I don't really think m'kay is a real word…)

Chapter 1

Remorse from a Broken Half

I should've been with him… It was foolish to separate myself from him…

What does it matter? You were always his shadow, never coming up with the great ideas, never scoring the ladies. You didn't have a date to the Yuel Ball remember? It was Fred. You sat at the sidelines, until you finally had a chance to dance with a stranger. A pure stranger, hardly a word exchanged. The striking image of romance. Not to mention it was always Fred who cracked the best jokes, your holeyness.

What? Who the hell are you?!

Who am I? That you should be asking yourself, nobody.

I'm nobody? Yeah that's great. Who are you? Your some random cranny in my brain, some flux of my thoughts.

He didn't even die in battle.

…What?

A wall fell on him!

That was after… That was after…

You killed him.

George shook himself, rising from his bed. His bed under Fred's bed. Fred's empty bed with the cold sheets and recently used pillow. Maybe it still had his head's imprint, preserved in the feathery lump? Sweat patched George's skin as though he had awakened from a feverish dream. Perhaps he had, he could not entirely remember. He slowly raised his hand unconsciously and touched the smooth bare skin where his ear had been so brutally severed from. Luckily his hair seemed to cover the missing piece from his head, so not many stranger had noticed.

Why do I care? George asked himself, putting his head wearily into his hands as memories of the night before flooded into his vulnerable mind. Waves upon waves of rippling images, cascading through his mind's tortured eye. Fred's face. His last laugh upon his face. It was always this, nothing else anymore. The dreams of the shop they had run together were smothered, crushed. He shook uncontrollably, tears flooding out in between his trembling fingers more violently then the torrent tremors of the memories. Everything was flooding George from the inside. The memories, the pains of his mother's face when she accidentally called him Fred… It should've been him, resting in death.

"Children!" Mrs. Weasley called. George winced. He remembered how that morning call was supposed to be.

"Percy! Ginny! Ronald! Fred! You too George! It's time for breakfast!"

It had seemed, perhaps, that his mother was suffering so much she couldn't bear to take Fred's name out of her breakfast call routine. So she replaced the empty words with one empty word, so tarnished by grief and regret. Children… Oh how angry that would have made Fred feel. He truly hated to be treated like a child… Even more then George had it seemed at certain times.

"Breakfast!" Mrs. Weasley continued, her voice cracking. George wiped his eyes oh the back of his hands and stilled his silent sobs. He had to be strong for his family. Especially Ginny… He knew she wasn't taking the death of her idol well at all.

Creak…Creak…Creeeeeak… George listened to the rackety low moaning of the stairs as he descended sluggishly down them. He remembered when he ran down them with Fred. How loud and exuberant it sounded. Pounding of stomping feet, happy calls to the new day, the new adventure, the new life. The stairs almost seemed as merry as their thoughts of delicious breakfast. But now it was different. And now he was alone. A fresh wave of grief, memory and tears threatened to overtake him in a whirlwind of misery.

I am… lonely…

You are forgotten.

I am scarred.

You are finished.

I am… I am hurting…

You are alone.

I am alone.

"Good morning-" Mrs. Weasley chocked on her words, a look of horror stamped clearly upon her face. "George…" she said softly. George looked up, standing on the last stair. Waiting for a word to be uttered. Ginny, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley all looked up at him. Of course Percy wasn't here… He was job hunting. Probably left the house early to escape the cadged shadow of grief. Neither was Ron of course. He was with Harry and Hermione. Everybody had someone to be with or something to do.

"Yeah… You could call it that," George said, his voice as cold as snow smothered stone. It surprised him. The void in his heart seemed to show through his voice. Silence filled the normally happed house.

"Well come on, the food's getting cold…" Mrs. Weasley said. George's eyes flashed down to the food. Eggs, toast, bacon and marmalade. With a jar of milk to top it off. It looked freakishly normal. Though the empty seat next to his own wasn't set.

"Cause that really matters to me," George said softly, mostly to himself. When he looked up again, judging by everybody's blank faces, only Ginny had heard him, as she was the closest and looked the saddest.

It happened because you two were linked, you know? If you hadn't allowed your ear to be ripped off, Fred would be okay.

Just go fuck yourself, I'm sick of your bullshit! George clenched his fists, anger rising up in him. His surrounding family looked alarmed, so he instantly relaxed. He should not make things difficult… They were suffering too… But why didn't they say anything!? George took his seat, but did not touch anything at the table. He simply stared at his food bearing plate that seemed so dead to him.

"A new minister has been chosen already… It looks like the terrors at the ministry are already washing away," Mr. Weasley said in what he obviously thought was brightly. George's head snapped up. What did that matter!?

"That's a relief," Mrs. Weasley said, exhaling out and taking her place amongst the family.

"Butter?" Ginny asked softly, seemingly trying to acknowledge him. But he wasn't the one who needed to be acknowledged, and he knew it.

"No thanks Ginny," George said, trying to keep his voice kind.

"All right, more for me then," Ginny said with a small smile.

"There's gonna be a lot more of everything now, Ginny," George said, turning back to his plate. Everybody fell silent.

"Well err… Must be off now!" Mr. Weasley said, rising from his seat. "I can't be late on my first day back…" He added with a sigh.

He almost made it… Fred almost made it to the days of peace… George thought. He wanted to see him again… So badly… But nothing could turn back death or time… TIME! He piped up suddenly. He could get a time turner, go back to that night, and save Fred! He knew everything else would be all right because Fred's dying hardly did anything! Wait… There were no more left… Disappointment engulfed his senses, ensnaring his judgment. Furious, he looked up at the famous Weasley clock, and froze in surprise. He turned back to his father who was just walking out the door. Frantic, George leapt to his feet and screamed louder then he ever screamed before.

"WHY WON'T YOU SAY HIS NAME!?" Mrs. Weasley whipped towards him, her expression shocked. Mr. Weasley froze, his hand still atop the hat he had just administered to his head. Ginny leapt into the air and looked up at him. George panted, fists clenched, eyes flashing with rage. "Why the hell, does that clock still say he's home!?" He demanded flinging his arm towards the clock, pointing straight at Fred's grinning picture. And at the arrow that connected it with the golden word, Home. He could feel his entire arm shaking like a frightened ferret, though he knew right now all he felt was rage. "Why the hell… why the hell…" George started feeling dizzy. He swayed on the spot, his entire head throbbing. He could see, not only in his mind's eye, but in his real vision too, Fred grinning at him after George issued forth a hilarious comment towards Percy's new position of head boy. He knew it was that grin because he remembered being so proud of bringing it out… Then the image started to fade into darkness. "No…" George murmured, feeling the air rushing past him. "No…"

You are both severed, you are both alone.

"George?" A familiar voice called out. George listened with all his might, trying to find out where the far away voice was coming from. "George! George? Hey! George! Where are you!? I can't… I can't find you…"George felt himself thrashing around, desperately searching for the source of the voice, heart pounding in his ear.

"George!" An alarmed voice exclaimed. He could feel himself being held down, and soon his exhausted body ceased and relaxed. He breathed in heavily, and snapped his eyes open. He looked around desperately, not lifting his head from the pillow. There seemed to be an unbearable weight upon him, chaining him to the bed. He saw Ginny standing over him with her want raised. She twirled it around and the pressure subsided. She put her wand away breathing out in relief.

"Wha-?" George started, his voice failing as a fresh feeling of sick engulfed him. He paused, holding perfectly still. Being sick was the last thing he needed.

"You fainted," Ginny told him, sitting down at the foot of his bed.

"So that's what it's like," George said bitterly.

"No, that's not what it's like at all," Ginny corrected. Slowly, carefully, George pushed himself up into a sitting position. He leaned against the wall, head brushing with the bed above him.

"Why am I here?" George asked. "Where's mom and dad?"

"Dad had to go to work, you must understand it's important that he's at the ministry! Oh but he did help mom get you up here, and he did make sure you were all right..."

"Even though I wasn't," George said with a harsh bitter laugh. "What about mom?"

"She stayed longer than dad, trying to keep your temperature down," Ginny said. "You were muttering in your sleep, and by the time mom left you were… Well you were crying. It was scary really…"

"Seriously? Bloody hell I thought only Harry could do that," George said. Ginny smiled at him, but concern still etched the lines of her face.

"I wonder what Fred would've said to that…" George thought absent mindedly as weariness started to take it's toll.

"This is incredible, George, you must be Harry Potter!" Ginny said softly. "Fred would say something like that. I'm sure of it."

George smiled. Finally. Somebody had acknowledged Fred. "Yeah… I am. I'm like the twin who lived…" And sleep overtook him as he slumped down over himself.

So did you like? Sorry if George seems out of character, I haven't really written any Harry Potter fics. This is my first one.