Summary: What would happen if Harry hadn't lost the Resurrection Stone? DH spoilers.

Rating: K

Critique: Please!

Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling.

George looked terrible. His skin was ghastly pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he was shaking slightly. He stepped aside and Harry entered the room. Harry glanced around as discreetly as he could, and was shocked—the room looked perfect. After Cedric's death, when Harry had locked himself in his room, he had trashed the place, but George seemed to have actually picked up and cleaned. Harry decided not to comment.

George closed the door behind him and went to sit on one of the beds. "So what does my family want you to say?"

"They didn't send me."

"Really?" George said, sarcastically. "I guess they think that, because you've been through so much, you must know how I'm feeling? That you know what to say to make it all better?"

Harry had never heard George sound so cold and cruel—but at least he wasn't shouting.

"No, they haven't said anything like that."

"Is that what you think, then? Is that why you're here? Because you think you understand me?"

"Hardly," Harry said, and was surprised to hear his voice so cold in response. He tried to ease up and hesitated. "I don't understand what you're going through," he acknowledged.

"Really?" George said again.

"Yeah. I mean . . . I've lost a lot of people, but I've never had a brother." Harry shrugged. "Closest thing to a brother I've ever had is Ron, but even he isn't my twin. And I can't imagine . . . losing him, as it is."

"Then you can't understand."

"Right." Harry took a deep breath. "I've lost . . . my parents, my godfather, my mentor . . . I lost the parents of my godson." Harry's voice cracked. "But I've never had someone I was so close to, like you and Fred. So I can't understand how you feel."

George's expression seemed to soften. "So why are you here?"

Harry paused. "I was wondering . . . if you could answer a question for me."

"What question?"

"If you had the chance . . . to talk to Fred again, for just a few minutes . . . would you take it?"

George looked at him incredulously. "Of course."

"Yeah?" Harry moved over and sat next to him on the bed. "If you were to get, say, five minutes or so, you would do that?"

"Would you not do that with the people you've lost?"

Harry shrugged. "It seems to me that when they left, it would be like losing them all over again. And I don't think I could handle that," he said evasively. "Could you?"

"I don't think it would be that way. Not if I knew he couldn't stay, you know? If I knew I only had a few minutes, I could . . . say good-bye." George looked away.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Why are you asking, anyway?"

"You know the Tale of the Three Brothers?"

George looked at him again, confused. "Yes?"

"The second brother. He got a stone that could bring people back from the dead." Harry paused, steeling himself for what he was going to say, his heart pounding. It's now or never, he thought. "What if I told you . . . that stone was real? And that I had it?"

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the Resurrection Stone. George looked at it, his eyes wide, terrified.

"You . . . you . . ." George's voice faltered. His breathing hitched and he swallowed. "It . . ."

"If you want to," Harry said quietly, "I can let you use it. If you think you can handle it."

George tore his eyes away from the stone and looked into Harry's face. "It's real?"

"Yes."

"It c-can bring him back?"

The thought flew through Harry's mind that he might have made a mistake. It might be too much to ask, for George to understand—but they had come too far now.

"Not really. He can come back for a few minutes only. Then he has to leave. And then you must return the stone to me. Do you understand?"

George looked back at the stone, horror etched on his face. After a few seconds, he jerkily nodded.

"Do you want to use the stone?" Harry asked softly.

George was breathing hard through his nose now. He opened his mouth a few times before sound came out.

"H-have you used it?" he asked.

"Yes." Harry lowered his eyes. "During the battle, I thought I was going to die. I went to . . . sacrifice myself . . . to Voldemort. On the way, I used this stone. My parents, Sirius, and Remus came to me. They walked with me until I reached him."

"You can bring back more than one person?"

"Yeah, if you want to."

George slowly reached out his hand and touched Harry's so that the stone was between them. And quite suddenly, the fear drained from George's face, to be replaced by a look of intense sadness. It made Harry ache to look at him.

George's fingers closed around the stone, and he took it. Harry touched his shoulder.

"Turn it over in your hand three times," he said, "and he will come to you. He'll stay as long as you keep hold of the stone."

"How long can he stay?" George whispered.

"He'll let you know when he has to leave." Harry stood up, took a deep breath, and then slowly walked out of the room. When he reached the hall, he turned and cast a Silencing Charm over the door, just in case.

A/N: Sorry, another cliff-hanger . . . but it isn't as bad. . . . FINALLY, we get to George. George was supposed to be the whole point of this fic, but then Harry kinda took over, as he tends to do. Next chapter will be George and Fred coming face-to-face. Beware.