George Weasley stared into his empty apartment, taking another sip of Firewhiskey. He surveyed his surroundings, and his eyes fell on a Muggle invention called a television, a gift from his father. It was entirely useless, as George had never bothered to figure out how to work it. He picked up the bottle next to him, and saw that it was empty. Groaning, he realized how much he was going to regret having drunk three bottles of Firewhiskey in the morning. Of course, George had never really been one to care about consequences. Neither had Fred.

A flash of rage erupted in him, causing him to fling the glass across the room. It smashed on the wall and the orange liquid seeped down the wallpaper. He covered his face with his hands, lying down flat on his bed. He knew it was starting to get out of hand, that his life was on the precipice of spinning out of control entirely. They had all come over to try and help. Ron and Hermione, his parents. Ginny popped in every other day, sometimes with Harry. They simply did not understand, just didn't get it.

It wasn't just something he could forget about and move on, like them. How could he just get on with his life when it felt like his right arm was missing? As the years passed, the gaping hole in George's life seemed to open further and threatened to engulf him entirely. Fred had left him alone and gone, his best friend in the entire world. Since they were born, they had been together. And now George was just supposed to get on with life? He didn't have a life without Fred. He simply did not know how to function. He was my bleeding twin, George thought savagely.

"You're a bloody git, that's what you are," he whispered to the darkened apartment. "When Snape sliced my sodding ear off, I didn't die on you!" George considered going down to the store and doing some inventory. Weasley Wizard Wheezes had far outstripped other joke shops like Zonko's in the recent years, in part because George threw himself so bodily into his work. He took less time off than ever and began living a particularly Spartan lifestyle. He needed less and less help around the store, and so profits went up, and somehow there were now twelve branches all over Britain, and there was even talk of an American branch.

Without warning, George's phone beeped to life. As a family treat, Arthur Weasley had presented his whole family with telephones and answering machines. He had one sent to Harry and Ginny in Godric's Hollow, and to Ron and Hermione in Hogsmeade. Not unusually, it was Ginny calling.

"George, its Ginny," she said. George snorted. As if he needed an introduction. "Look, we're having a bit of a get-together for Teddy's fifth birthday tomorrow. Harry and I'd really like it if you could come. Ron's promised him a new toy broomstick!" There was a pause in her voice. George was tempted to pick up the phone. "Just come. You haven't been over since the wedding." Another pause. "Look, I know you're there so you might as well pick up the phone-"

"Silencio," George muttered, and Ginny fell silent. If he didn't know any better, he might have assumed that she had given up.

He, however, was sick of it. If they had even one, single clue as to just how much he missed Fred, how badly he wished the prick would just burst out of the grave and brush the dust of his shoulders, they might not be speaking in the same way. As George drifted into an uneasy sleep, he half considered using a Blasting Hex on the phone…

Ginny hung up the phone and sighed, as Harry entered the living room with his back to her. He had been rifling through mail. Lately, much of the mail Harry sent out was to the Ministry. Both he and Ron finished their Auror studies a few months ago, having scored distinctions in their final exams, and were applying to become junior members of the task force.

"Still nothing from Kingsley. I thought he hinted that I might get an answer about in a few weeks," Harry said, levitating the letters onto the dining table. "There's a letter from Ron, too. I think it's about that…" he trailed off when he saw Ginny's face as she sat next to the phone.

They had not changed very much. Harry had become taller and more muscular, but other than that his hair was still untamable and messy all the time, and he still wore black, round glasses in front of brilliant green eyes. Ginny was still a head shorter than Harry, and now wore her hair in a shoulder-length cut.

"I really thought he might pick up," she said sadly, heading for the kitchen. Harry hated how Ginny's face looked every time George ignored their calls.

It had been five years since Voldemort had been overthrown, and wizarding world had been restored to a state of peace. Those who fought in the war against Voldemort were starting to move on, and all the known Death Eaters had been rounded up and placed on life sentence in Azkaban. Of course, they now employed specially trained Aurors, and it was rumored that, like in Gringotts, there were dragons guarding high-profile criminals. Dementors were becoming rarer and rarer, and it was rumored that they were preying on each other. The new Minister for Magic, Argon Marius, who took over from the interim Minster Kingsley Shacklebolt, also hinted that the Department of Mysteries was working on a way to kill Dementors.

Harry had never seen anyone more affected by the war than George. Since Fred died, he had shut himself to the world. It was very unusual to see such a morose and grim character who had once been called the Troublemaker in Chief at Hogwarts, along with Fred. Harry also missed Fred, but sometimes it was important to move on. Then again, he understood how hard it was to have the one, irreplaceable person in your life leave. Harry knew the awful emptiness life seemed to have, days stretching into months. But he had always had something to do, some sort of goal…he couldn't imagine what it was like for George.

"Ginny, you have to stop trying to sort out his life," Harry said, pulling his wife into a hug. She didn't resist and wrapped her arms around his waist. "He just needs time to find his own way to move forward. Fred was the most important person in the world to him."

"He's wasting his life away, Harry," she said finally, looking up at him. "He's my brother, and if he keeps blundering through life like this, he'll…" as her voice cracked, Harry hugged her fiercely. As someone who rarely got emotional, when Ginny began to tear up about something, it was important.

"He'll get sorted, I promise," he said, rubbing his hands over Ginny's slightly shaking shoulders. She was not crying, but Harry could tell that her concern for George was threatening to overwhelm her. "Hey, we've got dinner to prepare for tomorrow, right? Pretty sure your mum said to soak the rice overnight. And, of course, I'd do it myself, but I don't think Hermione will be very forgiving if I give her and Ron food poisoning again," Ginny gave a chuckle and followed him into the kitchen.

A young boy of about five came hurtling into kitchen, beaming up at Harry and Ginny. Teddy Lupin was a little on the short side for his age, and looked a lot like his father. Traces of his mother were definite, however, as Teddy's hair was now bright orange with purple streaks in it.

"Uncle Harry! Uncle Harry!" he cried, waving his arms up and down. "Look, I can do the pig nose!" Teddy screwed up his eyes, wrinkled his nose, and a few seconds later a pig's snout had appeared on his face in place of his normal nose.

Laughing, Harry picked him up and gave his nose a squeeze. While they lived at the Burrow, Harry and Ginny had looked after Teddy, who was taken there after Remus and Tonks died. After they found a place in Godric's Hollow, they both decided to take Teddy with them. Kreacher also accompanied them.

"Yes, well done," Harry said, placing Teddy on the dining table. "But remember, you do that too much and Aunt Ginny might mistake you for an actual pig!" Teddy gave a fake scream of fear and returned his nose to normal. "Right, now where's that house-elf of ours?" he asked. Teddy slipped down from the table and began calling for Kreacher.

"Coming, Master Teddy," Kreacher wheezed from the corridor, appearing in Harry's and Teddy's midst with a crack. Teddy pointed to Harry, whom Kreacher turned to for instructions.

"Yes, Kreacher, help Ginny in the kitchen while I put this little changeling…" he added to Teddy, whose hair automatically turned gray, reminding Harry strongly of Remus. "To bed," Kreacher bowed, waddling into the kitchen. "Alright, come on Teddy. Time for bed"

Teddy threw a bit of a tantrum before giving in. Harry managed to calm him down by producing bubbles from his wand that rapidly changed colors. The little boy shrieked happily and tried to bat them, following the bubbles to his bedroom. Grinning, Harry glanced into the kitchen, where Ginny was giving Kreacher instructions on the baked potatoes. She noticed Harry looking at her and smiled back. Sending up a silent prayer for George to accept Fred's death, he followed Teddy and indulged in the child's demands for more bubbles.