Disclaimer: Sickle-Pops and Flutterby Pins are my idea, the rest is JkR's.

"To Open your heart, to someone,

means exposing the scars of your past,"

Author Unknown

September 1998, Four months after the war

He didn't like living in the future. He wanted his past, his memories. He wanted his redheaded twin who would make mischief with him back. George Weasley hated staring in the mirror. It haunted him of his brother. Broken glass was often found in his home. Shattered, like his life. He couldn't live with his parents anymore due to his room he shared with his brother so he moved into his shop. It was the one place where his brother's memory was alive, but not protected like it was in his mother's home. It was where he could attempt to smile. Until she came along and changed everything.

A chime rang in his store as a tall, dark girl from his past entered his shop. He hadn't seen her since the funeral for everyone who died in the war. She shared the same look on her face as he did. A dark, morbid look, not wanting to talk to anyone or trust anyone. Laughter was far from her mind as she walked through the shop. She came to his counter, not speaking to him. He made the first move.

"Want some tea? Mum always says tea's best for situations where you don't know how to talk, or do anything but sit there." George didn't smile, he never smiled anymore. He leaned against the counter waiting for her to respond. She looked towards the door, as if it was a mistake to come in.

"I should go. I shouldn't have come in. I don't know why I did." Her voice was fragile, as if any sign of his brother would make her cry. George knew why. She dated his brother for a while. They were each others first love.

"How about some tea? I could use the company anyway. Company from a friend is better than company from customers. We don't open for another hour," he asked again. She eyed him when he said 'friend' because they had never been friends. They spoke often at school because of Fred, but never as friends themselves. They didn't have anything in common but Quidditch and his brother.

"I noticed your Help-Wanted sign hanging in the store window." The reason behind her being there came out. He never pictured Angelina as shy, but today, she was shy. As if something was holding her back.

"Fill out this application while I make tea," George said. He bent under the counter, picked up a pile of parchment, and a quill, and put them on the counter. He then went to his apartment above the store to make tea. The tea finished in a few minutes as he joined her downstairs. She had just finished the application as he placed the two cups on the counter.

"What next?" she asked accepting the tea.

"You're hired," he said with out even glancing at the parchment. He knew he wouldn't read it, it was just for show.

"That quick? How do you know if I'll be a good employee?" she questioned as she gripped the cup of tea.

"I know you. I know how you were in school, I know you were good on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and I know you got good grades," George replied, taking her application and tearing it up in front of her.

"When can I start?" she asked, as her big brown eyes stared at him.

"How about today? We have a rush of Sickle-pops coming in, as well as a rush of Flutterby pins."

"Sickle-Pops?"

"Different flavored lolly-pops with a chocolate Sickle in the middle, and Flutterby pins are pins shaped like butterflies that come to life when you pin them on your clothing, they become still again with a wave of your wand. Very popular with girls." George watched her as he explained the inventions.

"Did you create those?" she asked.

"Sickle-Pops were his idea, I found a journal of ideas in his box of things. And my sister Ginny thought of Flutterby Pins after seeing a blue butterfly one day. You know what a blue butterfly symbolizes right?" George asked. She shook her head. "Hope that a loved one lives on in another life, they're made in his memory." He stopped talking when he saw her look away at the mention of his brother. He could have sworn he saw tears gleaming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't forget him, no matter how much I want to on some days. He was my whole life after all." George was sensitive for her feelings, but knew he was right in their disagreement.

"I didn't ask you to forget him. His name's still got a soft with me," she snapped sharply.

"Then why do you want to work here?" he declared angrily as he felt his temper rising. 'Breathe George,' he reminded himself as he calmed down.

"I need the money, and I don't feel like playing professional Quidditch. Too many memories," she admitted. He glared at her.

"Too many memories? Angelina, look around! This shop is full of Fred. He's everywhere. Even in the Fred-printed chocolate candy, he's in the wrappers and stamped on the Gallons, Sickles, and Knuts. If you think playing Quidditch brings up memories, it's nothing compared to working here. Hell, at least you don't look like him!" George's outburst caused her to leave the shop. He watched her sit down on the bench in front of his store with her face in her hands.

"Damn it. Why can't I just act normal when help comes my way?" He put his fist down on the counter hard, making a tea cup fall over. 'Because you will never be normal again. War changed that,' a nasty voice from his mind argued. "Shut up you," he voiced out loud.

He shook his head as he picked up the tea cup, and placed it gently on the counter. She was still sitting in front of the shop. He knew he had to go apologize, but he didn't want to. He meant every word. She just had his memories, he looked like his brother. He supposed war scarred other people too, but not as bad as it had scarred George. He gathered his coat and scarf, put them on and stepped outside onto the snow covered ground. It had been months since the war, months since the funeral, and months since he saw anyone related to him.

"I know you hurt, but you're not the only one George," she said not bothering to look up at him. Her words shocked him. He had expected to apologize, but she talked first.

"Do you know I can't stand to look in a mirror because it reminds me of my twin? Identical twins look alike, they're suppose to. Half of me is gone, while the other half lives." He placed his hands in his trench coat, it was freezing outside, he didn't understand how she could sit on the snow covered bench.

"Sit down," she ordered, finally looking up at him. He was right, she had been crying. Tear trails were on her face. He stood there, not wanting to sit on the cold snow.

"Sit down," she repeated.

They talked for an hour, trying to figure each other out. In the end, they both apologized. She understood a little more how he felt, and he understood that everyone else was hurting.

"Now, will you come inside with me?" He held his hand out, shaking with cold.

"Yes," she said taking his hand. His hand warmed up as it came together with hers, like vines twisted around a tree, and took her inside his shop.

December, 1998

They stood together by his grave holding hands. They both needed to tell him in person they were dating and expecting, but neither wanted to talk. A mid-December snow fell around them as they stood frozen.

"Fred, we came together because of you. Your memory lives through us better together than apart. She came to me first to work in my shop, a few weeks into it, I realized I fell hard for her. And now, we're expecting. Some will say it's too fast, or it isn't right, but it's right for us. Our relationship is based on us, not what others think or say." George looked at his girlfriend.

"You were always my first love Fred. George is my second. He understands we dated, understands we were together for a short while, and understands how important you were to me, but it doesn't matter to him. George knows I love him, and will never leave him. I hope you understand how much we need each other to mend our scars caused by the war," she said putting her hand over her belly.

"Happy Christmas, Fred," she added after a few minutes of watching the soft snow fall hitting the tombstone and melting.

"I hope you're causing trouble wherever you are. Happy Christmas brother."

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, they smiled.

Author's note: There will be an epilogue.