AN: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters mentioned in this story. They belong to JKR, Warner Brothers, and whoever else. No copyright infringement is meant. Also, comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated!
It was gloomy, overcast. The sort of day that makes you wish you had stayed in bed, relaxing with a steaming cup of tea and a good book. The clouds were swirling ominously overhead, foreshadowing the downpour that was sure to fall in a few moments time. George sighed to himself as he observed the less than desirable weather through the front window of his shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He sat at the main desk, his head resting in one of his hands, the other twirling his underworked quill between his fingers. He always hated times like these, times when nothing was going on. It was hard for him to run from his thoughts that way. Time had sped by, sure. The fifth anniversary of the second Wizarding War had passed several months ago and as the loud celebrations continued through the night, George sat alone, mourning the loss of his other half. Mourning the loss of himself, really. Everyone, including George, knew that he hadn't—and probably never would, be the same person again. He shook his head, refusing to succumb to any slight thought of Fred. Instead, he turned his attention to what was right in front of him—his work.
Business at the joke shop had slowed down dramatically since the start of term at Hogwarts a little over a week ago. It was the same way, though, year in and year out. The monotony had begun to take its' toll on the once lively jokester. He looked down at the blank sheet of parchment in front of him, praying for some sort of divine inspiration to strike him with a new idea. It had been far too long since he had come up with some new gadget to sell. Being that it was only his mind at work now; fresh, brilliant products were few and far between. It always used to be that he would either start or finish the idea for something new; it was hard to form a complete thought anymore. The process not only eluded him, but his new partner, Ron, as well. He was grateful for Ron's help, of course, but he would never fill the void left by Fred. He looked over at his younger brother, watching for a moment as he restocked the shelves. George could feel proud of that, however. It was the first time in a while that they had managed to nearly empty the shop from business.
George smiled to himself slightly at Ron's enthusiasm for business. He had never seen someone do something as simple as refilling shelves with as much gusto as his brother managed to summon. It made him proud to be not only his sibling, but his business partner as well. George could admit to being a bit skeptical when Ron suggested helping out at WWW, but he had never been more wrong. Adding Ron to the team had been one of the most strategic career moves he had ever made, without even realizing it. As he watched him work, the urgency of George coming up with a new idea finally hit him. They had sold out of nearly everything, he realized. Groaning in frustration, he put his head in both of his hands.
"Doing alright there, Georgie?," Ron asked, his concern showing in his tone of voice. George looked up, as Ron approached, an empty cardboard box tucked under his arm. George hadn't realized that he had managed to make his shock of unruly red hair stand up in nearly every direction. "Yeah, yeah, fine," he said, waving his hand as if dismissing Ron's worry. "Though, it would help if we could string together a coherent thought for a product," he admitted his worry, finally.
Patting George on the back supportively, Ron flung the empty box into the back room and took a seat next to his elder brother. "We'll find a way," he stated, trying his hardest to be convincing. Though Ron could be less than sensitive to the feelings of others, he knew in a time like this that George was missing Fred. Holding back a chuckle, Ron looked back at George. "I know something that'll get your mind off of all this," he suggested. George looked skeptically at Ron's nearly guilty expression and arched an eyebrow. "What exactly would that be?," he asked, giving a warning look. "Mum expects you for dinner tonight," Ron said, clearly fighting back a belly laugh at George's haggard expression.