George flicked his wand and watched his glass of some potion that Hermione had forced into his hand at Mum's insistence, float away and out of the window. A sudden rush of guilt stole over him and he brought it back with another flick. It landed on his bedside table with a slight thump.

Fred would have teased him mercilessly if he had known that he, George needed medicinal potions. Fred. His comrade-in-arms. His partner. His brother. His twin.

He was gone, never to return. George touched the hole on the side of his head gently. They had laughed over that. Would Fred have found something to joke around, about death? He would, George felt confident.

A tear slid down his face; but he made no move to wipe it away. He wondered if he should go downstairs then decided against it. Mum had enough to worry about without him being there. He leaned against the head of the bed and glanced out of the window. Bill and Fleur were striding arm-in arm towards the door.

He closed his eyes. He could hear Aunt Muriel saying something downstairs and was doubly glad he had not gone downstairs. He grabbed the vial and swallowed the potion in one gulp.

"There, Fred." he said. "Tease me all you want, but I did that for Mum."

Talking to Fred as if he were there made him feel slightly better. George lowered himself under the covers and closed his weary eyes.