George lay with his eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling. The blanket was barely covering him, draped across one leg. His wife beside him was fast asleep and was clutching it as she rolled over, blissfully unaware. Any other night, he might have watched her as she slept, taking in just how lucky he was to have such a beautiful woman to call his own.

But this night wasn't just any night. It was meant to be a night where he lay there with a giddy smile on his face, attempting to contain his excitement which mirrored what he used to feel as a child. He was meant to be happily waiting for 8 am when he'd force his family to wake up, eager to just get out and go as soon as possible. He was meant to take his kids for one of the many visits to their aunt and their Uncle Fred's house. They would see their cousins and George would see his brother. Angelina and whoever Fred's wife was would chat while sipping cups of tea while Fred and George hugged, catching up and wishing each other happy birthday, trading presents with one another as they always had.

After their little party between only the two small families, they would all go to the Burrow to see Molly and Arthur Weasley, inviting Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Audrey, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny and their children for a giant family dinner, as they did for each one of their birthdays except for the rare times one or two couldn't make it.

But the chance of what was meant to be ended when he was only 20 years old, unable to comprehend the fact that his twin brother was going to be gone forever. Unable to live out his life, have children of his own, see the shop as successful as ever. Fred didn't even get to see Harry win the war and defeat Voldemort. He didn't get to see the world in peace, without the threats and dangers they had grown up around.

Seeing his limp, pale body on a stretcher in the Great Hall had pushed George over the edge. He could remember it like it was yesterday rather than almost 9 years ago. Here he was, about to turn 29 without his twin to do the same.

He hadn't celebrated his birthday ever since. All he knew was that for years after Fred had left him, he hadn't been coping. He remembered the sleepless nights. He remembered the alcohol burning his throat. He remembered briefly wondering if you could Avada Kedavra yourself, before deciding that he couldn't do that to his family and Fred would have frowned upon the action.

Angelina had come into his life again in 2000, which was when he began to deal with what he was left with. She helped him pick up the pieces, even when he knew that they both felt a pang of guilt since Fred and she had once liked each other, even gone to the Yule Ball together. After about a year, he found that the guilt had faded and that he needed Angelina in his life.

He had found himself again, yet he still deeply missed his brother more than anything in the world. Some days were better than others, which his family and wife were always there with him for. With time, he eventually had his first son. He had been happy to name the boy Fred, honouring his late twin in the best way he could think of. Angelina had found the name a tender and beautiful gesture and agreed with a teary smile.

Angelina had done so much for him, yet he didn't want to be next to her. All he needed was to be squished into a single bed with Fred again, talking happily after casting a silencing charm around the bed they had chosen to share for the night - not waking Lee or their other roommates. They would be chatting about the pranks they would play on Ron and use their birthday as a valid excuse. They would laugh at the plans to sneak off to Hogsmeade and ditch class, even if it landed them in detention for a month.

"Do you think Lee would come?" Fred asked, leaning back and falling into his pillow. George laughed as he adjusted his position on the end of the bed, purposely sitting on Fred's legs.

"He has potions, he doesn't wanna be on Snape's bad side again."

Fred shook his head, still smiling. "Nah, he had enough balls to do it. It's gonna be our 15th birthday, Georgie!"

"Yeah, we can just drag him along if needed," George suggested, mirroring his brothers smile. "The git can pay, too."

George bit his lip at the memory. Their 15th birthday had been one of the best. They had successfully gotten Lee to come along with them to Hogsmeade and pay for their butterbeer. They had returned and been served with detention, yet it had been one of the best days that George could recall.

He felt his heart clench as the longing for his brother increased. He couldn't try to sleep, since it would be too hard with all these thoughts flying through his head. He glanced to the bedside table, seeing his clock read 11:52. He would have another birthday without his twin, another year. Each year, the only birthday plans he had were to visit Fred's grave and lay flowers and a letter. He always places a letter against the headstone, one he wrote every morning of their birthday. What he included in the letter varied each year, usually containing how he felt and what the latest was. This year, he was going to tell Fred about his daughter, Roxanne. She was only a few months old. He was beyond thankful that she hadn't cried yet that night, he didn't feel like getting up or waking Angelina.

It wasn't like he hadn't been to the cemetery and spoken, but the annual letter seemed to mean more. He had no idea if others saw the letter sitting there or if it was simply blown away each year before somebody could read it. It didn't matter to him.

If he could have anything, it would be to see his brother again.

Fred's voice still echoed in his ears to the day, saying phrases that he hadn't heard in years. A certain conversation from a few days after George had lost his ear was stuck in his mind, their conversation seeming so close yet so far away.

"Lee told me how much you drank," George told his twin cautiously, watching as he bowed his head and sighed.

"It helped," Fred said quietly. "Except for the bloody hangover."

George shook his head and reached under his bed for a small bottle containing a potion that would rid his brother of his hangover. He held it out for Fred to take from his hand, which he did with a quick mutter of thanks.

"You do know that I'm the one who lost the ear, right?" George said with a snort, referring to how Fred seemed to be more upset about it than he did. "It hurt like hell, yet I'm the only one who dealt with that."

Fred rolled his eyes as he finished downing the potion. He set the bottle down before looking at his twin right in the eye. "It's the fact that only you dealt with it that's bothering me, mate."

George stayed quiet, waiting for Fred to elaborate.

"We do everything together, you know? And I thought-...I thought you were..."

George held a hand up to stop him, knowing where the sentence was heading. "I'm not though, I'm okay."

"You lost an ear!"

"Freddie, I'm fine. I'm alive, I'll be alright."

Fred seemed to search his eyes for any doubt. He swallowed, casting his eyes down.

George stood, ignoring the dizziness and working on keeping on his feet. The bandage around his head was secure, he ignored the stinging of the wound. He moved forward and opened his arms, waiting for Fred.

His brother glanced up before almost leaping into George's hold, burying his head on his twin's shoulder on the side where he still had an ear. He made sure that he wasn't hurting George as they held each other, attempting to wash away worries and fears about the war that they were trapped in.

George felt his eyes burn as they filled with tears, not spilling over just yet. Surely he didn't think life would be like this. Fred had been worried about George losing his life when Fred was the one who lost his. Memories of the horrible day he lost his brother haunted him. He clenched his fists at his sides, determined not to wake his wife as he felt the pain of the loss of Fred, hurting more than losing a body part ever could.

He could hear Angelina snoring softly beside him. He hadn't slept that soundly since his death. Salty tears finally spilt and cascaded down his temples, falling into his ginger hair. Biting down on his lip, he tried desperately to not let out the sob that was threatening to escape him.

He turned his head to the side, just in time to catch the clock change to midnight. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, controlling his wild emotions. He opened his lips and whispered something to the person he longed for the most in the world.

"Happy birthday, Freddie."