Note: I do not own any of these characters, they were created by the Goddess, J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1

The Great Hall was quiet. Some chatted lightly; some sniffled, while others mourned silently. George Weasley stared at the body of his dead brother; it was covered in a shimmering red fabric. Up and down the Great Hall, the fallen were covered in fabric that signified the houses that they belonged to. George's eyes glazed over as he replayed those last few moments with his twin.

He remembered him and Fred fighting back to back laughing and taunting the Death Eaters as they came. Even under dark circumstances with death prominent they still joked and laughed, keeping each other going. After they finished off one group of Death Eaters they went to resume their positions, but a masked Death Eater stepped from around the corner. A flash of green light hit Fred in the chest as a stunning spell was set off from George's wand.

George stood over the body of his fallen brother, who was obviously sleeping. George was so sure Fred was hit with a sleeping spell, there was no way he was hit with that unforgivable curse. He slung his brother's limp body over his shoulder and carried him down to the Great Hall. When he walked in he noticed the fallen covered in the colorful tarps, grateful that Fred wouldn't be one of them. All he needed to do was to ask Madam Pomfrey for an awakening potion and there would be Fred laughing again.

He spotted his mother and father getting patched up and walked over to them. Molly and Arthur's eyes widened at the sight of a limp Fred slung over his brother's shoulder.

"George, he isn't... is he," Molly couldn't form the vile word in her mouth.

Gently laying Fred down in a cot he replied, "No, he just got hit with a sleeping spell. The bloody Death Eater came out of nowhere, little bugger. I'll go fetch Madam Pomfrey for some awakening potion."

Just as George went to turn and leave, Molly knelt down beside her sleeping son and took his hand. "George," she said quizzically, "Why is Fred's hand so cold?" George turned back around. She moved her hand a little further down towards his wrist and gasped. "Arthur," she cried, "I can't find his pulse! You try!"

Mr. Weasley knelt beside Fred as Molly stood over him who was watching his concentrated expression. George knelt on the other side of Fred's body and started to frantically search for a pulse as his father began to shake his head.

Madam Pomfrey scurried over as tears began to well in George's eyes as he muttered, "No… no… no… Not him… He's sleeping…." He grabbed the elderly witch's wrist, "You find his pulse, it's there, he can't be… he can't be dead!" George spit the last word out as he let go of the nurse's wrist. She tried everything to find a pulse but couldn't find one. She slowly stood up and looked George in the eyes with grief in hers.

Falling to his knees beside Fred, George screamed and pounded on the soulless body of his brother. "NO!" he screamed. It wasn't fair! He thought; Please don't take my best friend from me. Not him. How could they? George sprung up and paced quickly away from the body but turned and started to stalk his way back. He started screaming, he cursed his brother for leaving him, he cursed the Death Eater for taking him away from him, and he cursed his father for holding him back. Tears streaming down his face, screams escaping his mouth, everything was distant.

However, now George sat quietly like the rest of his family, on a bench placed perfectly in front of his fallen brother. He felt a hand place itself lightly on his shoulder, but he didn't bother to look up figuring it was his father or mother grieving with him. A gentle squeeze meant to be reassuring but really sent more waves of sadness deeper into George's soul. He tried to shrug the hand off but a gentle voice stopped him.

"George," she said. So quietly, so soft, but the words resonated in George's head as clear and loud as a chiming bell. He looked up, unsure if it was really her. The first thing his bloodshot eyes focused on where her eyes. The lovely eyes that he enjoyed so much, with rims as gray as the stormy ocean, a brilliant green as deep as the forest in the middle, and a vivid orange as bright as the sun around the pupil.

"Astrid," he whispered. Her voice, her name, her face brought him back to his memories.

The first time he ever saw her was on the first day of his sixth year at Hogwarts. George noticed her as she quietly slipped into the Gryffindor table a few seats away from him during the sorting ceremony. Her eyes were cast down and her brunet hair was in a braid that fell down her back and over her shoulder.

At first glance it appeared she wasn't paying attention; however her hazel eyes showed the awe as she watched the Sorting Hat place the first years in their houses. George was confused, he and his brother have made it their life's goal to know every student in their House, and of course the entire school. Gently nudging Fred, George asked if he knew her.

"No mate, never seen her." Fred nudged Seamus who was sitting next to him, "Hey mate. Who's that girl a couple seats away, I've never seen her."

"Oh her," Seamus said as he casually threw his thumb over his shoulder, "She's a new sixth year from the States. I don't know what her name is except that it's something weird."

"Thanks Seamus," Fred now turned to George, "Well there you go Georgie."

Then the Durmstrang boys busted in. They're staffs hitting the ground and the sparks flying, they walked swiftly as they put on their spectacular performance. George's eyes were still on the new girl, he watched her giggle as Krum walked by. He let out a huff, She must be one of those girls who fawn over posters of Krum. He watched her turn to the fifth year boy across from her and make a serious, or really an attempt at serious, face. She puffed out her chest and apparently seemed to be imitating Krum; the fifth year across from her nearly spit out his food.

When the Beauxbatons girls walked in their sheer beauty, grace, and French allure had everyone's heads turned. Even George broke his stare to fill his vision with pretty French girls, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the girl roll her eyes and say something causing the girl next her nod in agreement.

After that George paid attention to the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament. When Dumbledore announced the age restriction he and Fred stood up and protested. They both complained for the rest of the night how unfair it was because they would be of age soon. In the stairwells, George chuckled to himself as the girl gripped the railings, surprised by the moving staircases.

"Mate," Fred nudged him, "If you don't want to look like a stalker I suggest you stop staring at the poor girl before she does everything in her power to avoid you."

George just mumbled and bustled into the dormitories.