A/N: FFFF this chapter bores my pants off. But I need to start off the story somehow, yes? Lol. Review plz. It'll get interesting. Hopefully? :)

Like A Burden

George Weasley snuggled deeper into his blanket, covering his face from the sunlight pouring in from his window. He grit his teeth, quite frankly angry with the sun. It couldn't leave him alone, just this once?

The sunlight was the least of his worries, however; his mum had bought him a new owl, as if it could replace his… His late twin. It was a brown barn owl, and much to his dismay, it had taken a liking to having a mini meltdown when sunlight came near him.

"GEORGE!" came the small, angry voice of his little sister, Ginny. There was a pounding on the door, yet George just shut his eyes tighter, pulling the blanket more over his head. "GEORGE, OPEN THE DOOR AND SHUT THAT BLOODY OWL UP."

'If I ignore her, maybe she'll go away…' thought George hopefully.

"You're not going to get me to go away by ignoring me, dammit George Weasley!" the raging voice of his sister called. George had half a mind to jump out his window just so she couldn't find him, but was much too tired to make any such movement. He jumped slightly, his eyes flying open, when a sudden slam caused his owl to make a horrible noise that George was sure wasn't healthy.

"Blimey, George," he heard Ginny huff, "What spell did you use to lock your door? Oh, take that blanket off your head."

"No," George muttered stubbornly, pulling the blanket even tighter over his head so that his feet were now showing.

"You sound like a child," Ginny giggled. George pouted at her comment. "Come on, I brought you breakfast. Mum made eggs and sausage, and it was delicious. She didn't want to wake you, but I told her I had no problem."

"Gee, thanks Ginny," the male red-head grumbled. He felt the blanket suddenly tugged off his head forcefully, and immediately sat up. "What the bloody--" he was interrupted by a piece of toast being shoved in his mouth.

"Eat up," Ginny said, and George looked at her. She looked a mess, something like him. There were bags under her eyes, and her hair was carelessly pulled back into a messy bun. It seemed like the pajamas she had on wore her. "You need to get your strength back up, if you're going back to the shop soon. Ron said you've been showing up later and later by staying here."

George spat the toast out of his mouth, and frowned. That's right, it was almost time for him to go back home… The thought of being alone, in his two-person apartment complex, was enough to make him want to knock himself out for another couple days. "Right… Shop…" he muttered.

George Weasley had not said much in the past month and a half he's been home. His mum thought it best for him to stay at the house, just for a bit, and George was more than happy to accept. He knew staying with his family would help, if anything it would get him used to being… alone. The house had a very solemn feeling to it, they had the funeral for Fred not to long ago. A huge part of their lives was gone, and everyone knew it. Despite the loss, they still celebrated the defeat of Voldemort, holding an enormous party in the backyard of their only one that hadn't attended was George. It didn't feel right, celebrating without Fred. He and Fred would have been the life of the party together, but without Fred… There was just George. Just George. And Just George didn't feel like facing everyone without his other half. It felt… too bizarre.

There was one thing that hurt George the most: The way nobody dared to look at him. Everytime he'd walk into a room, everyone politely averted their eyes. It was as if George was the constant reminder of what was lost, and the single twin was feeling more and more guilt every second he was in that house. The only one who seemed to be okay with looking at him was Ginny, and even then she cringed once in a while.

"Thanks Gin," George muttered, throwing off the blanket. He yawned widely, stretching his limbs, and his younger sister helped him up. "I should probably get packing now…"

'You're such a prick, Weasley.'

"What?!" cried the older to his younger sister, eyebrows raised.

Ginny had her back turned to him while she set down a tray of sausage and eggs, but turned when hearing George's cry.

"What?" she asked innocently, frowning.

"You called me a prick?" George said, more of a question than a statement. Ginny stared at George, and shook her head slowly.

"I didn't say anything," she said slowly. "Are you sure you're okay?""Yea…" muttered George, sitting back down on his bed. It creaked slightly. "I'm just fine…"

"Okay…" Ginny said uncertainly. She frowned, sitting down next to her brother. "George… Don't cry anymore, please?"

"Oh please," the older Weasley rolled his eyes. "I don't cry, I've never cried."

"You shout in your sleep," Ginny said, genuine worry etched across her face. "George, I… I hear you, sobbing at night…"At this George blushed bright red.

He turned away, afraid to face his little sister with such shame. "I don't…"

"George, listen to me," Ginny put her arms around her brother, a comforting feeling to both of them. George shut his eyes, lower lip trembling. He didn't want to talk about this, not now, he was just beginning to get used to being alone… "Fred," he cringed at the name, "wouldn't have wanted you to be upset… He would have wanted you to be happy. It's been months, it's time to move on...."

"I know, Gin," George replied flatly. He refused to cry, especially in front of his little sister. "Look, mum probably wants me out of the house soon. She's taken a liking to complaining about the smell of my socks. I need to shower and finish getting my stuff."

"I'll help," another voice drifted in. Ron Weasley entered the room, his little owl Pigwideon flying around his head. Harry Potter followed close behind.

George groaned, "Oh, invite the whole house in, sure. My room's the perfect place to party your arse off, isn't it?!"

"Oh, shut it and take your damn shower, hothead," Ginny teased, shoving a pillow into George's face, and giving Harry a cheeky grin.

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

"Careful with my things!" George cried, as Harry accidentally bumped his luggage into a wall while levitating it down the stairs. "My lucky old boot's in there!"Harry considered asking how an old boot could possibly be lucky, but decided against it. George seemed to be in a terrible mood already. It was quite a change, and Harry greatly wished that old George would return. He was sure Ron did too, and Ginny.

"I've got it, I've got it!" Mrs. Weasley quickly took over, and the luggage finally made it to the bottom of the steps. George plopped down on top of it, now in muggle jeans and a Chudley Cannons T-shirt Ron let him borrow. He looked at his mum, who was now tending to trying to tame Harry's hair in a desperate attempt to avoid George's eyes.

George raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish. When she showed no sign of stopping, even with Harry waving her off, he said, "Mum… I think I'm gonna go now."

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley turned to him, and for a brief second glanced in his eyes. "Oh, right, right… Well, um… It's too bad you're not staying until your sister goes back to Hogwarts, but I suppose you do need to return home one day…"

She gave George a kiss on the cheek, and hugged him tightly. George noted that she still hadn't fully looked at him. "I love you, George, and I'm sorry your father couldn't be here, but you don't live far, you'll see us often, yes?"

"Of course," George lied. He ran a hand over the side of his head, where his ear was missing, the only thing that had deciphered him from Fred. Truth was, he planned on avoiding his family for a while. Not for his own needs, but his family needed to move on, and …

With him being a constant reminder, he couldn't help but feel… Like a burden.