AN: This was written for the story beginnings challenge and round 10 of the Quidditch League: Write about an important familiar relationship in your mascot's (Ginny) life.

Prompts: Dialogue: I shouldn't have asked, Apologize and "We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same and worth saving." – JK Rowling

Word count: 1,196

Concern

Sometimes it seemed like everyone was moving on and she was stuck right where she always was. Except maybe that wasn't completely true. Her whole family was stuck right where they always were. Stuck in the memories that were Fred Weasley.

Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of her brother.

It was hard not to think about him.

His picture on the Weasley family clock was stuck on 'lost' and would be like that forever.

The discarded Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products scattering the floor, Fred's Weasley sweater, the closed door that was Fred and George's childhood room and the silence in the Burrow was far more than she could take.

The silence was the worst – it just made everything all the more real. That Fred was gone…dead… and he wasn't coming back. Ever.

The redhead sat in a chair with her feet tucked under her, staring out at the garden. She slowly breathed out a sigh.

She could still remember the summer days that involved Quidditch matches, pranks, laughter, joyful screams and the happiness that came with it.

Now there was nothing.

No pranks. No Laughter. No happiness. Nothing.

Nothing was the same anymore and she didn't think it would ever be the same again. Not without Fred.

George definitely wasn't the same. He kept himself looked in his room and refused to come out.

"It's not healthy," a familiar voice said, pulling her from her thoughts. "George locking himself in his room like that."

Ginny turned her head and realized that it was Hermione who had just come in from the kitchen.

"Do you have an idea as to how to get George to come out of his room?" Ginny snapped and quickly regretted it. She gave a small gasp and her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry, Hermione, that came out wrong."

"You're hurting, I get that," Hermione replied. "It's okay…but maybe you should try talking to him."

"I'm not sure what good that would do," Ginny said as she slowly stood up. "But I guess I can give it a try."

She left Hermione standing in the living room and started to make her way up the staircase.

Hermione was right – being locked in his room like that, with all those memories of Fred wasn't doing George any bit of good. In fact, it was probably doing more damage than actually losing Fred.

She slowly made her way towards the third door on the right after stepping off the third floor landing.

He most likely won't even open the door, Ginny thought.

He needed to get out of there and actually do something. Anything.

Her hand hovered above the door. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to knock.

Sure, she lost a brother too but she had no idea what George was going through – losing a twin. It had always been Fred and George, George and Fred, Gred and Forge. Now it was just George.

He's your brother and he needs someone, Ginny told herself. You're a Weasley, you can do this.

She quickly knocked on his door and dropped her hand. She stood there in silence for a few moments, not getting a reply.

"George, are you alright?" Ginny asked. After a few minutes, she added. "I shouldn't have asked that. Of course, you're not alright. None of us are."

"We're all concerned about you" she took a deep breath. "George, let me in. You can't just hide away in your room forever. Some time you're going to have to come out and face the world at some point… You can't just let yourself go to waste and wallow in your sorrows."

There was still no response but Ginny could hear small movements from the other side of the wood.

"Fred wouldn't want you sitting around moping over his death," Ginny went on. "He wasn't that kind of person – we all know that. He would rather you celebrate the life he had. Honestly, if Fred could, he would probably yell at all of us for how we were acting."

"He's gone…" she heard George reply in a mere whisper.

She leaned against the frame of the doorway and loosely crossed her arms over her chest. "And hiding away in your old room that's full of nothing but memories of Fred isn't going to help you," Ginny told him.

Eventually Ginny heard his bedroom door open slowly and a head full of red hair poked out.

Ginny glanced at George and couldn't help but feel a pang in her chest. His hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot as if he'd spent all the time locked in his room, crying.

"I never thought I wouldn't have Fred around, you know?" George said, softly.

"None of us did," Ginny replied. "Never in my worst nightmares did I ever think there would only be one of you instead of two."

George ran a hand through his hair and around the back of his neck. He took a deep breath. "It was always just the two of us."

For as long as she could remember, everything George did, Fred wasn't long behind. All their jokes and pranks were meant for two people. George planned all the pranks and Fred was the one who made sure they were seen through.

Ginny placed a hand on George's shoulder. "You don't have to go through this alone. We're all here for you when you're ready."

"I know that," George started. "It's just…it's hard to talk about this because it just makes Fred's death all—"he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"It makes it all the more real," Ginny finished.

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passed between the siblings and for once in the few weeks since the battle, it was a somewhat comfortable one. Or as close to comfortable as they would get for a while.

"Fred wouldn't want us moping over his death," Ginny said, after a while. "It just wasn't who he was. He'd rather we celebrate the life he had instead of mourning over him…It's terrible and sucks that he's gone, and we're all hurting – but Fred wouldn't want this."

George slowed turned around and walked into his room. "I know that in my head, but—"

"It's hard. I know." Ginny said, walking in after him.

George turned around to face her. "Will it ever get better?"

"I don't think anyone has an answer to that right now," she replied. "All we can do is wait and hope for the best. With time, things will slowly heal."

"I hope so."

Ginny walked closer to George and placed her hands on his shoulders. "You're not alone, George. You never were and you never will be."

George wrapped his arms around her and pulled in for a tight hug. "Thank you for forcing yourself into my room."

"What are stubborn little sisters for?" she said, pulling back.

She gave a slight smile and she saw the edges of George's mouth move slightly. She knew that one way or another, they would find a way to get through this as long as they had each other because that's what family was for.