Speak! George Speak!

~o0o~

Diagon Alley was surprisingly scarce on people despite it being a weekend; the bustling alley of their youth but a memory. And though the battle had been won, it resembled the worried months before the end of the war far more than the Diagon Alley in which Hermione had bought her wand when she was eleven.

The war had been kinder to the shops and apartments filling the wizarding meeting centre than their respective occupants, though, and not much construction had been needed after Voldemort's downfall.

Astonishingly, the most damage had been made by Hermione, Harry and Ron when they'd broken in and out of Gringotts. It was still awkward going there for money, but the Goblins had so far made no attempt at their lives which the trio had interpreted as a good sign.

Hermione walked past the many shops she'd grown up with and tried to ignore the pull some of them had on her. While she would love to browse for books at Flourish and Blotts, that wasn't the reason she was here.

Harry and Ginny stared longingly at the Quidditch Supplies store window, until Bill ushered them on, Fleur holding his arm and openly criticising the robes displayed in some of the other windows.

"Orange in winter? It is times like these that I miss Paris, you wouldn't believe the robes they have there. Not like these."

Though liking her, Harry, Ginny and Hermione put some distance inbetween themselves and the married couple. Just because Bill had chosen to spend the rest of his life enduring the glances his loud wife was getting, didn't mean they had to.

But of course, they were already stared at plenty.

There were whispers and pointing. Several times they had to stop as people wanted to shake hands with Harry and Hermione. It wasn't too much of a bother, most of them wanted to thank the two for their fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the only time Hermione actually got annoyed was when a pair of elderly witches had asked her why she'd ended things with Ron, seeing as how she 'wasn't getting any younger'.

"I'm only nineteen!" said Hermione, when they finally managed to shake off the witches.

"In older magical circles that's practically spinster age," said Ginny.

"Really?" asked Harry.

His girlfriend nodded. "I don't know too much about these things seeing as mum and dad aren't the most traditional purebloods around, but I've had some experience with this through a few of mum's old acquaintances growing up." Ginny shuddered and appeared to be shaking away some unpleasant memories. "Urged my mum to arrange for me to be engaged before it was too late. I was nine."

Harry and Hermione shared a look of relief over having been brought up in the Muggle world.

A few minutes later they arrived at their colourful and loud destination. The shop remained the busiest in the whole of Diagon Alley; people needed to laugh just as much after war as during, if not more.

It was with her heart thrumming hard against her ribs that Hermione approached the entrance. She was excited to meet George. She genuinely enjoyed his company, of course, but now there was also what she'd seen him do in the vials. He'd been willing to punch Malfoy for her, he had talked to Ron about Scabbers and he had been overall nicer than she'd previously given him credit for. For those reasons she also was most anxious about his reaction regarding her breaking things off with Ron. She felt it really important what George thought of her. No matter what Ginny'd said, she had to make sure he didn't despise her.

The group entered the shop and was met with the usual rowdiness it exuded. There weren't any Hogwarts kids present but young people in their pre-Hogwarts years and in their twenties seemed to find the place just as riveting.

They parted to look for George, arguing that it would be best to approach him in smaller groups at first, so as to not crowd him or make him feel cornered, but rather as if they were dropping by casually.

The couples went in different directions and Hermione found herself alone, which didn't bother her for it suited her needs. She wanted to have a chat with George without an audience.

She walked along the shelves, tracing some familiar items with a sense of nostalgia. To think she'd been there when it had been developed. When all they'd come up with so far had been Canary Creams, Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougats…

"'Daydream Charms'…", she read aloud, stopping.

"You know, that really is extraordinary magic!"

"For that, Hermione, you can have one for free."

Hermione looked at the display with the charms and smiled at the memory.

It wasn't long until her reminiscing came to an end as she felt someone step up behind her, whereupon she instinctively reached for her wand.

"Whoa, easy there, Granger!"

Hermione blinked and withdrew the wand, blushing as she realized what she'd done. "Sorry, George. Old habit."

George's previously amused features darkened somewhat at the mention of her leftover reflexes from the war, but thankfully it didn't last long. He attempted a smile. "Pathetic excuse, you've just been waiting to take my other ear off, haven't you?"

Normally, this would have her feel sad, but for some reason she felt like joining him in the teasing. "Oh, you caught me," she said, holding her arms up as if caught in an act. "It's been bugging me for ages how uneven your features are. If you had to go lose an ear, at least make it both; otherwise, it just looks weird and unsymmetrical."

He laughed. An honest to Godric laugh.

Her chest swelled.

She decided to take the plunge while he was in a good mood. No reason to let the elephant linger in the room longer than necessary.

"So I take it you're not too upset with me about Ron?"

"Always eager for answers, aren't you?" said George while he rubbed his jaw, his laugh muscles no doubt out of practice. "Honestly? I was a bit put off at first, but then I had to live with Ron again, and frankly, I almost judge you for not breaking it off sooner."

Hermione winced. "That bad? Harry said-"

"Harry doesn't live with him. The first few days…Lot of anger. It's better now, think he's even started missing you. But you know Ron; he probably won't ever tell you himself. Always been a bit slow. "

"And 'has the mentality of a five year old'," said Hermione, realizing too late that she'd quoted the person in front of her.

George blinked. "…Yes. That too." It looked as if the words were familiar to him but they weren't exactly a rare thing to say so he let it go.

Hermione struggled to find something else to talk about. "So, er, is it just you working?"

George shook his head. "No, there's this boy Franklin, and Verity found her way back, bless her. Been helping me set up the things Ron doesn't know how to organize and taking some load off the work Fred usually managed."

"You didn't do everything together? I always assumed-"

"No, while we are- were," George sighed. "on pretty much the same level, I have more of an affinity for Potions while Fred's specialty was Charms."

Hermione's lips quirked. "I bet it was."

George raised an eyebrow at her joke. "You know, I've been meaning to ask-"

"There you are," said Ginny and pulled her brother into a hug, unintentionally interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. "Hermione, I thought I told you to come find us once you found him."

"I was going to but he just wouldn't stop talking," said Hermione and rolled her eyes in mock exhaustion.

Ginny's eyes widened but they almost popped out of their sockets when George laughed again.

"Okay, colour me confused. Did someone slip either of you anything?"

"Nope, sis, it's just that Hermione here has figured out that treating me like a wounded puppy really isn't working," he said and looked pointedly at his youngest sibling. "Don't think I don't know why you're all here." He waved at Harry, Bill and Fleur, who attempted casualness by lingering behind by a shelf of 'Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder'. They looked a bit embarrassed when they realized they'd been caught.

Ginny frowned.

"Fine, we're here to see if our brother's doing well. Aren't we just awful people," she said sardonically.

"Didn't mean it like that," said George. "It's just…you know...I'm fine, Gin," he added, looking earnest.

She crossed her arms. "Then you won't mind if we take you out for lunch?"

"I have work to do."

"Oh, hush," said his sister, almost harshly, having obviously taken to heart what he'd said about the puppy treatment. "I spoke to Verity and that other guy working here, and they said they'd have it all under control. It's just lunch, George. You need to eat."

The last part made Hermione jolt. There was apparently more than just George's mood that Ginny wanted to check on.

But he'd been doing so well over Christmas…he even had seconds…

"Well, I suppose one bite wouldn't hurt. And it will hopefully get you off my back," said George.

Ginny tried to not look too hurt by that last comment. "All right, then. Let's head for Leaky. I'll go get the others."

Hermione turned to George. "Go grab your cloak, and don't try to sneak off, you know she'll make you pay."

He sighed. "Yeah."

~o0o~

Once they were seated at The Leaky Cauldron they ordered food and drinks, that is to say butterbeer and minced meat pie ('They should really add more dishes to the menu' said Fleur).

Bill got their butterbeer which they drank gratefully, the January weather having left them a bit chilled.

While they sipped the warm drink and waited for the pies, George answered their questions about the shop. He told them that reopening had been fine and that he and Fred had luckily stored enough supplies to last a while before they had been forced to go into hiding.

At the mention of Fred, the others nervously turned their gazes downwards, something which both Hermione and George noticed.

"So, as I was saying," George continued, eyeing them. "We'd sealed a storage unit and it's come in handy, since there's been a high demand for our products. We're selling mostly our old stuff, but I have some small things under development...and yeah. That's basically all there was."

Bill nodded. "Good to hear business is still good."

"Thank you. Well then," said George, clasping his hands together, "now that we've awkwardly made our way through that subject what should we talk about next, the weather?"

"George-"Ginny began.

"No, I'm sorry, maybe that topic's too sensitive."

"George, we were just asking about your work," said Bill in a calming voice.

George didn't answer but downed the last of his drink and then excused himself to the bathroom.

"Shouldn't someone go after him?" asked Hermione, whose eyes had followed his exit warily.

"You're welcome to try," said Ginny. "His mood swings have given me enough whiplashes to last a lifetime, though."

By the look of the other faces, they had experienced the same thing and felt like Ginny.

The redhead sighed. "How on earth did you manage to make him laugh before, 'Mione?"

Harry spluttered. "You made him laugh?"

"Why is that such a surprise to all of you? I can be funny!" said Hermione, flustered.

"No-I mean yeah, you can," hurried Harry. "It's just that I spent Christmas at the Burrow and George never laughed the whole time we were there. Right, Gin?"

His girlfriend shook her head. "Not a single time."

"What did you say to make him laugh," asked Bill curiously.

"Well," Hermione blushed. "I sort of pulled a joke about blasting his other ear off…for symmetricity."

"And that...worked? Merlin, I don't know which one of you is more bonkers, he for laughing or you for saying it," said Ginny.

"Hey!"

"I think it's great what you did, Hermione," said Fleur.

"Nobody asked yo-"Ginny began but her boyfriend quickly put his hand on hers, silently urging her not to lose her temper.

The food arrived and George had still not returned. Hermione grew worried, feeling as she always did when someone seemed to be in need of help; responsible.

Though knowing about his grief for a long time, Hermione had never quite felt this way before for the twin, as it had mostly been about protecting Ron after Fred died, thinking that she'd help George when she could but that he most likely were far more secure in the arms of Angelina anyway.

But Angelina wasn't here right now and there was no way Hermione could ignore George's current distress.

What would Fred have done?

Hermione rose from the table and excused herself to bathroom as well.

What would Fred have done?

This thought had popped up in her head ever since they had arrived at Diagon Alley. When she wondered how she would approach George, how she should treat him. And that's how the jokes had begun.

Hermione didn't joke during sad times, she comforted. But for a Weasley twin, the most comforting thing would probably be the other twin, so she'd channelled her inner prankster and found that what little was there had been enough.

This is why they did it, Hermione had thought as she watched George's lips pull upwards. This feels amazing. And this is all they ever really wanted to bring to the world. Laughter. How childlike and pure and positively….good.

She arrived at the doors leading to the wizard and witches bathrooms and found George standing outside, leaning against the wall.

He turned his head when he heard her footsteps.

"Here to retrieve the lost puppy?"

"No, I'm here to tell you your food is getting cold, you tosser."

He started at that.

"Yeah, you heard me," said Hermione. "Your family is just worried about you, so how about stop acting like a-like a…prick and come join us again."

George stared at his shoes. "Only when they stop acting like Fred didn't exist."

"Is that really why you stormed off?"

He didn't answer.

"George, they're hurting too...We all are," she added, her shoulders slumping a bit.

"No reason to avoid his name," said George.

Hermione remembered Bill the day before, saying 'him' until he had to explain whose scent he'd smelled.

"Have they been doing it long?" asked Hermione.

George nodded. "You did it too, you know."

"I did? I wasn't aware."

"Yeah, you used to do it up until recently." He looked up from his shoes, an extremely contemplative look on his face as he struggled to find the words for something he clearly had been thinking about for quite some time. "I don't know what's changed, but Hermione, something has."

"What do you mean?"

The wizard scratched his head and sighed. "Nothing…just that I'm grateful that at least one person can think about Fred and smile."

Something told Hermione that there was more George had planned on saying. Whatever it was, Hermione had no idea, but he obviously had something on his mind regarding her and Fred.

"He wouldn't have wanted people to be sad," said Hermione, as if that explained it.

George scoffed.

"Well, he wouldn't have!" Hermione tried again. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything else, for she had the impression George would take it the wrong way. Misinterpret it.

However, the answer she'd chosen seemed to only have aggravated the wizard. He now looked at her like he was disgusted. "What do you know what he would have wanted?" George asked, his voice filled with what seemed to be accusation, like he was blaming her for something, but she had no clue what that could be.

"I…" Her own voice failed and she could do nothing but wait for the man in front of her to continue his harsh words.

"You might think you know everything Granger but you don't. You have no idea who Fred was."

It was as if she'd been stabbed in the chest.

Her breath caught and a searing pain made its way across her upper body. And she knew why.

The fear she had tried her best to push aside and ignore the past few weeks had been confirmed by the twin.

That she didn't know Fred.

That she never had.

That she never would.

He was gone and no matter how many vials she looked through she'd never know him properly.

Just as she would never get to smell his scent properly.

Hear him laugh properly...ever again…

"You, George Weasley," said Hermione, recovering just enough to realize that there was no point arguing back. He was lashing out like Ginny said he'd been prone to do. "You have no idea what you're talking about either."

For a second, George, though still looking annoyed, let shock cover his face as he stared at the tears already making their way down the girl's face. No doubt he hadn't even imagined Hermione would cry over his spiteful statement.

Hermione sniffled. "Now get your mood-swinged arse back to the table before I'll have your sibling's drag you back." With those words the witch turned and stormed into the ladies' bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

She waited for a few seconds until she heard his feet shuffle away, and after casting a silencio she let her tears stream freely and her wails likewise, not holding back any of the despair she'd bottled up.

This is so not what Fred would have done.

~o0o~

A/N: Hello, lovely people!

Thank you so much for your reviews, I love reading them! And as mentioned before, they work like writing fuel! And thanks to your kind words I've been able to push this chapter out.

And okay, so about this chapter...

I was thinking long and hard about how George would be acting around Hermione and you know what? I found that if I was put in a position where my dead sibling's crush *cough* love *cough* acted like she knew everything about that sibling, though not having seen the years of pining the sibling had gone through for her: I would feel a bit bitter.

True, Hermione knows about Fred's fancying her (which is why she's suddenly acting like she knows him), but George doesn't know she knows! So for him, she just looks obnoxious. Like, "Girl, don't even talk about him, you didn't see what was right in front of you."

Anyway, hope that clears some confusion. I hope my writing makes that point come across, but just in case, there you go.

Thanks to the many followers and people who have added this story to their favourites! You are all awesome!

Until next time!
/Primrue