Disclaimer: I wish it could just be fill in the blank at this point. Don't. Own. It.

As Harry left the podium and hurried back to his seat, George's heart started to race. He couldn't do this… but he had to. He would let everyone down if he didn't. But what could he say? He hadn't prepared anything, and he was afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he just stood up there. It wasn't even the words that scared him. It was the possibility that there wouldn't be any, that he'd be standing up there, gaping like a fish, and then… nothing. He owed Fred more than that.

Bill whispered in his ear, "You don't have to if you don't think you can."

How did he always know? George gritted his teeth, his older brother's understanding starting to aggravate him, when he realized that Bill still had his hand on his shoulder… and he also realized that he was shaking. Oh. That was how he knew.

He turned to look into his eyes, and Bill tried to smile at him, whispering, "We'll all understand if it's too hard. Everyone will."

"But would Fred?" George asked, his voice a lot harsher than he'd intended. Bill jerked back as if he'd hit him, and George immediately felt sorry, but all of a sudden, he found himself on his feet and hurrying toward the podium. It was now or never.

Turning to face the crowd, he closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, though, he found himself in the same predicament Harry had. Who on earth had he looked at, George wondered? The family wasn't safe. No way. If he so much as glanced in their direction, he would be done for, the laughing stock of Hogwarts and not in the way they'd always dreamed. They… he swallowed hard. He just had to start. He'd be fine. He had to be. He just wouldn't look at anyone.

"It's been a year." His voice still sounded rough, and he cleared his throat. The attention of the crowd made him uncomfortable, and he glanced down at the podium, wishing for a moment that he'd listened to Ron, that he'd actually written something. He looked back up. "It's been a year since the Battle that changed so many of our lives, but for me, it's been a year of not believing how much my life will never be the same again. Most of you knew me as part of a matched set, Fred and George, the Weasley twins. Well, as just George for a year now, I can tell you one thing for sure. This world is a hell of a lot more boring. My brother was so much more than just a part of this set. Fred dedicated his life to making people laugh as much as possible. He wouldn't want to make us cry, and he'd want us to enjoy the world he died to save. I just don't think he could have ever known that without him… there's not so much to laugh about."

George trailed off. He felt as if he were choking, and he swallowed hard against the snitch-sized lump in his throat. He had one last thing he wanted to say, but he knew his voice would be almost unrecognizable, so he shoved his hands into his pockets and just… walked away. He didn't go back to his seat. He knew this control was only temporary, and the goal right now was getting away in time.

The rest of his family, however, was still frozen in their seats. Arthur had his arm tightly around Molly, and she was sobbing openly again, unable to restrain her tears for the first time in months. The tears were rolling down his face as well, and he bent his head down so he could bury his face in her hair. Neither of them were in any shape to listen to Dennis Creevey as he took the podium.

Bill sat next to his mother. When George had gotten up to speak, he'd sagged against Fleur, all of his strength gone. He'd thought he'd have time to regroup while George was up there, but he hadn't counted on what his brother might say, and hearing him speak and then listening to his mother's sobs had the complete opposite effect. Fleur looked up into his face, but he couldn't look back at her. He knew if he did, she would see the tears he was struggling with all of his might to hold back. Crying in the broom closet was one thing. George was the only other person there, and he'd been crying too. But now? In front of all of these people? Impossible. But Fleur took his chin in her hand and turned his face to look at her, and suddenly he was powerless to stop her, powerless to stop the tears. He choked on a sob, and then he hunched over, burying his face in his hands.

Charlie sat on his sister-in-law's other side. He struggled to control his breathing, and he tried to focus on the boy now standing before them as he struggled to speak about his own brother who had apparently died in the Battle. Percy sat beside him, leaning forward, holding his head in one hand. Without thinking, Charlie rested a hand on his shoulder, and he felt it begin to shake slightly. He gripped it harder. At least Percy's tears were silent, he thought, glancing toward Bill and wondering if he ought to suggest to Fleur that she take him aside. But he knew he couldn't do that. It would embarrass Bill, and even more than that… he wanted him here, no matter how hard it might be for both of them.

The only people in the row who were listening to Dennis were sitting beside Percy. Ron was still staring straight ahead, and Hermione was still watching him out of the corner of her eye. She was at a loss again, and listening to Dennis sniffling wasn't helping. Her own face was wet, but she could have sprouted another head for all Ron had noticed. And then… without a word to anyone… he stood up abruptly and walked off. He didn't look back, and he didn't walk in the same direction George had, and Hermione had no idea what she should do. She turned to Harry and Ginny … and her eyes welled up with tears.

He was shaking with the effort to contain himself, and Ginny was sitting beside him, her own body taut with the strain of not letting go. They had each wrapped their arms around themselves, not touching one another, and Hermione knew these were not the ones to ask for advice. She sighed, wishing she could get up and go after Ron right now, but she felt bad leaving when Dennis was still up there, so she turned her attention back to him in time to hear him say, his voice quavering, "I know he would never regret fighting beside Harry Potter. I just don't know what to say anymore when people ask me if I have any siblings. I wish he'd thought of that."

He was leaving the podium now, but Hermione barely heard him go. Harry's intake of breath beside her foretold disaster, and before she could even comprehend that it was happening for the third time, he, too, had gotten up and walked off.

That was when Ginny finally turned her head and looked directly into Hermione's eyes.

"He's right," she whispered as people wiped at their eyes. Her own eyes were shining, and Hermione slowly and carefully moved into the seat Harry had just vacated.

"Right about what?" she asked gently.

"How many brothers do I have when people ask?" she asked, choking on a sob. She looked away, but Hermione wasn't about to let another person run out of this row. She grabbed Ginny's arm, and before either of them realized what was happening, Ginny had thrown her arms around Hermione and was sobbing into her shoulder. Hermione tightened her grasp on Ginny. She didn't know where Ron was or what he was doing. George could be long gone by now. And who knew where Harry had disappeared to? But none of that mattered at this moment, she thought, tears slipping down her own face as she stared over Ginny's shoulder. This was where she needed to be right now.

A/N: Obviously, I'm sure you all know we'll catch up with the rest of them soon enough. There were way too many reactions to get into this chapter.