George and I continued our little question game, playing in brief little rounds whenever we had time. At Harry and Ginny's wedding, when George pulled me onto the dance floor with him, we asked a couple questions. George asked what memory I normally used for my patronus. My answer had been getting my Hogwarts letter, because when I got my letter my parents made a huge celebration. I helped my mum make a cake and lick the bowl, and I helped my dad set up streamers around the house.

George's answer had been the first time he flew a broom by himself, without someone on with him. Him and Fred had been able to get it their first try, instead of nose-diving into the ground, like their brother Percy.

For my turn I asked him what his favorite family tradition is. His answer was when his mum made them sweaters every year for Christmas. My answer was decorating the house for Christmas with my parents; especially stringing popcorn together and wrapping it around the Christmas tree, and making a family of snowmen in the front yard.

About a week after Harry and Ginny's wedding everyone gathered at the Burrow for the usual Sunday dinner. Everyone was present except Harry and Ginny, who were still on their honeymoon. Apparently they were trying to visit every professional Quidditch pitch in the world. Charlie, who had made it to the wedding with his date, who was also his match, Andrea, was staying for a few more days before they both needed to get back to Romania. They'd been teammates on the dragon reserve for quite a few years now.

I was sitting between George and Hermione, talking with Hermione about one of our coworkers who was getting on everyone's nerves. However, all conversation slowly grew quiet as Bill stood up and started tapping his fork against his glass.

"I'd like to make an announcement." he stated loudly.

George gasped theatrically, "You're getting married, too?"

Everyone laughed as Bill rolled his eyes with a smirk, but Fleur was giving George the stink eye.

"No, George, thank you for that."

"You're very welcome." George responded, smirking.

"Anyway, Fleur and I have some news." he continued, smiling down at Fleur, who took his hand. "We're pregnant."

Molly shrieked happily, launching herself at the couple as everyone started cheering. I felt breath on my shoulder as George whispered, "So, how's the baby supposed to come out of Bill?"

I snorted, and covered my mouth with my hand, swatting George's shoulder. Most people, including me, found it romantic when a guy phrased it as 'we' when it came to pregnancies, but of course saying it in front of the twins was going to earn Bill a lot of ribbing.

After a rather excited dinner, everyone split up to go about their business for a few hours before it was time to go home. George lead me back outside to the large tree by the pond. He laid on his back in the grass and motioned for me to do the same.

We stared up at the pinkish-blue sky through the branches and leaves. We were silent for a few minutes before George spoke.

"Do you have any nicknames, and if so, what are they?"

I thought for a moment, thinking back to when I was little. "Well, not technically. My dad used to call me Munchkin, but that was about it."

"Nice." George commented with a smirk, making me elbow him in the ribs. "I guess I've got a couple. Mom and Fred sometimes call me 'Georgie'. Everyone sometimes calls me 'Fred'." I snorted, making George grin again, "And sometimes Fred calls me 'Forge'."

"'Forge'?" I repeated in confusion.

George nodded with a smile. "Yeah. You know our 'Weasley sweaters' Mum makes us every Christmas?" I nodded. "You ever notice only mine and Fred's sweaters have our first initial on them? Well, during Christmas our third year we made a joke about it, saying Mum must think we forget our names. Then we called ourselves 'Gred and Forge'."

"Oh, so if you switch your sweaters you'd wear the one with the 'F' on it, making your name Forge, and Fred with a 'G' would be Gred. I get it." I talked it out to make sure I understood.

George nodded proudly. We were quiet again as I tried to think of a question to ask in return. I finally thought of one, but stayed quiet, not sure if this would be too personal. Finally, I decided to just go for it.

"What's the hardest thing you've ever gone through?" I asked quietly.

George sucked in a sharp breath, making me regret asking.

"Well, um, in the final battle…Fred…got hurt." I turned my head to look at him, hearing him get a tiny bit choked up. "Him and Percy had been dueling a couple guys when the wall behind them exploded. Fred took a blow to the head…The Healers decided to put him in a medically-induced coma so his body could focus on healing itself…They didn't know for sure if it'd work, or how long it would take. He could wake up in a week, a year, or…not at all." George paused to swallow, and I watched his Adam's apple bob heavily.

"Three months." he finally whispered, "I sat by his bedside for three months, just watching him, waiting for him to hopefully wake up. Not knowing if today would be the day he'd wake up, or slip away forever. I hardly ate, or slept, or left the room that whole time, wanting to be there the second he opened his eyes…I couldn't imagine what I'd do if he died. There is no George without Fred. We've been through everything together. He's been my other half since before I was born."

I hesitantly slipped my hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. I was almost surprised when he squeezed it back, clutching it like a lifeline.

"I guess that's kinda why I was so affected when you tried to kill yourself because of me. While I was sitting there, contemplating all the worst case scenarios, and thinking about a life without Fred,…I didn't think I could keep living without him. I knew it'd hurt my family if they lost both of us, but I couldn't see myself living without my twin. I actually considered ending my own life if Fred didn't make it."

I bit my lip, feeling tears burn my eyes as I scooted closer to him, holding his hand in both of mine.

"But he did make it." I whispered, feeling as if I needed to remind him of that.

George smiled slightly as a single tear managed to slip down his temple into his hair. "Yeah." he chuckled quietly, "The second his eyes opened I practically hugged him to death. When he got a good look at me the first thing he says is, 'You look like crap, Forge'. I was so relieved I couldn't even joke back for a little while."

I smiled, resting the side of my head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

George looked down at me and smiled slightly. "It all worked out, I guess. And don't be sorry, you should feel special. You're the only person, besides Fred, I've ever spoken with about it."

"Really?" I pulled back in shock. George nodded with a smile.

"Yep. And I only talked about it with Fred because he's caught me having nightmares about it. I wouldn't have told him otherwise, at least not for a while." he looked back up for a moment before saying contemplatively, "You know…the only times Fred or I have ever gotten seriously hurt…were when we were split up. The first time was my ear, the second was in the battle. Never any other time."

I smiled, staying quiet for several moments before I started to talk. "Mine was when my parents died." I whispered. I could feel George watching me as I thought over how to start.

"It was during my seventh year, back when everything was getting really bad. My parents had opened their home to hide muggleborns. I was home for Christmas break. One day, my Mum asked me to go buy some stuff, since we were running low on food and things with all the muggleborns coming and going. I was gone for a few hours…" I trailed off, trying to swallow past the lump building in my throat as images flashed in my eyes. "When I came home the house was trashed, a chunk taken out of the side. Inside things were smashed and…there were bodies everywhere…blood…" my breathing started coming in gasps, my nose burning with the familiar metallic stench of blood as bile rose into my throat.

I felt an arm slip under my back, pulling me into George's side as his hand started rubbing soothing circles on my back.

When I nearly had my breathing under control, I started speaking again. "I should've been there. If I'd been there with them I could've done something. I could've saved them."

"You don't know that." George whispered into my ear, "The Death Eaters would've just killed you, too. There wasn't anything you could've done, Misty."

I buried my face into where his neck met his shoulder, breathing deeply to regain control. After several long moments, I swallowed back my emotions and spoke again.

"December 14th." George paused with his hand between my shoulder blades. "That was the day my parents were killed. The first anniversary of their death was the first time I tried to kill myself. I was all alone and it was all my fault. I couldn't handle the guilt. I still can't."

"It's not your fault, Misty. Your parents would say the same thing. Even if you were there, there was nothing you could've done. Now it's up to you to keep your parents' memory alive. Remember all the good times you've had with them, remember what they died for, and they'll always be remembered as heroes."

I sniffed quietly, thinking over George's words. He was right. My parents fought for muggleborns who were being hunted by the Ministry and Death Eaters. They died fighting for the war. They were heroes.

"Thank you." I whispered, wrapping one arm around George's stomach in a hug.