George lay in bed, staring at the boards of the wooden bunk-bed he was so familiar with. He breathed in, then sighed. Home. He stood, stretched, and then dressed himself for the day. Something special, he thought. He chose his nicest pants, ones with limited tears, and opted for a sweater his Mom made him for Christmas the year before. She'd appreciate this, he thought. After all, it is April Fool's Day. He began down the jagged spiral stairs of the burrow. It smelled of home. Breakfast, flowers from the garden, Ginny's perfume, dust, owls, prank-tests and love. And, cake? Of course, mom wouldn't forget their cake. No matter how little gold, Mom still hadn't given up on the cake, George thought. It was quiet. So quiet. People certainly aren't sleeping if there's cake? He ventured down the hallway into the living room, on his way to the kitchen. He saw Mum's clock, the one that had so often shown Dad, Bill and Charlie away from home. Could it be? It's wrong, he thought. Everyone home! If they had planned on surprising them, maybe they should've covered the clock. Speaking of which, He thought to himself, Where's Fred? The phrase sounded echoed and dull in his head. Something was wrong. Where's Fred? Suddenly his knees gave out and he was on the floor gasping for breath. No. The room turned grey and the blood drained from his face. No. No. The last thing he heard was laughter from his family, someone shouting "Surprise!!!",before he was awake, curled on the floor of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, drenched in sweat. Through the window, the street light was the only thing he could see by. It was the middle of the night. He turned his head in the direction of the calendar placed on the back door of the empty store. It read April 1, 1999."Happy Birthday, Fred" George said, before placing his head on his lap and crying himself to sleep once more.