Woot! My first review for this story! Thank you so much Chanty! Well here it is, the third chapter. I'm going to try harder to make George act like George, I can't help feeling that he might be a bit out of character. Though that might be because Fred isn't with him… (bursts into tears) I read the part in the first book when the twins first enter the series… Omg it was so fing sad. I've also noticed how there are so many fanfics that were written about Fred before he died. I recall one person saying how excited they were for the book, and how the fanfics would be continued when the person was finished with the book. So far they haven't been continued… Ahhh so sad…

Disclaimer: All I own is George's angst since J.K really didn't go into that at all… Nothing else, not Harry not Ron especially not Fred's death not Hermione not blah blah blah you know the rest.

Chapter 3

Memories are Always Painful

"Oy George! Where'd you go?" George heard his brother calling out to him, but he remained hidden underneath the tree darkened by the night. Tears stained his cheeks and slid off his chin to join the pouring rain in a dirty muddy mess. He was only seven years old and he didn't know why he ran away from the backyard where he was playing catch with Fred and a few friends. Well that was lie, he knew why but he was upset but he didn't know why he felt he had to run. He huddled up around his knees, staring at the torn bloody rips biting at his knees.

"George! I know you're here! I always know where you are, that's why you fail at hide and seek! Just come out!" Fred called, his voice getting closer and closer.

"I don't fail at hide and seek!" George screamed back. Suddenly Fred's head popped around the corner of the tree and George fell back in shock.

"That's why you fail. Actually I lied before, sorry about that," Fred said, dropping down to sit on his heels. The rain started to get uncomfortable as George could feel his orange red hair plaster to his skull. "So what's up?" Fred asked kindly.

"You know what's up!" George said loudly, his voice cracking at the intensity of it's volume.

"Those gits aren't my friends anymore, if that's what you're asking," Fred said bitterly, looking to the side. "But what made you so angry?" He asked, looking back at his brother.

"They teased Ginny, she's only three years old! They made her cry, I told them to knock if off," George said.

"I can't believe you managed to so much yesterday in the little time I spent being lectured by mum. If I was around I would do the same thing," Fred assured him. "Well actually I'd knock them off for 'em."

George smiled and the young joke, once again hugging his knees and sitting on his heels as well. Even though their feet were on level ground, Fred was still at least half a foot higher. "Well they started to tease me, trying to get me to tease her."

Fred gaped at him, "What? The nerve! You- You didn't right?"

"Of course not!" George snapped.

"Didn't think so, you're more of a man then them," Fred said, punching George in the arm.

"Nah, I punched them," George said with a sheepish and amused smile.

"What? Really?" Fred asked, "what a pleasant surprise! Way to go, George!"

"I knocked them down. All three of them," George said.

"Then what's the problem? You showed them who's boss!" Fred said loudly.

"They told the entire neighborhood, all the parents, the teachers, the shopkeepers…" George said. "Now everybody hates me, and mum and dad are disappointed because I failed… I-I hate talking to people… Every time I try something like this always happens."

Fred looked down and his crestfallen face that was slumped down towards the ground. "Brighten up Moaning Myrtle, screw all those people! We're going to Hogwarts, not schools near here! You'll meet new people!"

"Moaning what?" George questioned, looking up.

"Moaning Myrtle. Ah yeah dad told me about her. Apparently she just mopes and moans all day long in the bathroom. She's a ghost they say," Fred said knowledgably.

"Who's they?"

"Me of course!"

George smiled slowly, then laughed merrily. But soon it vanished and he looked back at the ground. "They'll be the same. People are always the same."

"Well they are if you don't put your faith in them," Fred said. "You have to give people a chance, they've got no reason to tease you if you be yourself."

"How do you know?" George asked, making lazy circles in the mud.

"Because your so much like me!" Fred said, enthusiastically jerking his thumbs at himself. They both fell silent, then burst out into childish laughter. "So come on George, don't be like Moaning Myrtle! I promise you we'll cause all the mischief we want, and everybody will love us."

"I'm not so sure…"

"Hey, not every kid is like that prick John ," Fred said.

"Really?" George asked.

"Just don't be so terrified! Then you'll mess up. Come on, I'll teach you everything I know. And you always have me if you're lonely, you know that."

"And we always have Percy to make a fool of," George added, feeling a lot better. They both rose and headed for the direction of the house.

"We've only done it once," Fred said.

"Or twice."

"Or for the length of a day."

"Or for the weeks of a month."

"Or was it forever?"

"I've forgotten the…" They both paused and looked at each other.

"Time?" Fred suggested.

"I'm swamped. What rhymes with month?" George thought aloud.

"We'll work on it," they both said in unison as the Burrow came into view.

George slowly opened his eyes, sunlight filling his vision. He sighed at the memory he had dreamed up, and slowly rose from his bed, hitting his head on the bottom of Fred's bed. He swore loudly, rubbing his head like a mad man. His fingers ran roughly through his flame hair, messing it up even more then his fitful sleep had. Muttering thousands of curses, he slid out of the covers, the pain in his head slowly subsiding.

"George, good to see you up and about," A familiar voice said from the doorway. Startled, George looked up, still bent over, hands still draped over his head.

"Charlie!" George exclaimed. "Good to see you, sneaking around the bedrooms as usual. Hoping to get a peek?"

"You know I don't swing that way," Charlie said, walking in the room, bright hair shining in the light seeping in through the half drawn curtains.

"Oh you must have been sidetracked sneaking off to Ginny's room," George said, still blinded by pain. Though most of it was reduced to a throbbing and he was able to raise up to his full height and let his hands fall to his sides.

"Now that's just disturbing."

"Hey, being a dragon-extraordinaire is a lonely life, I understand."

"Come on, get dressed," Charlie said. "Unless you want to scare Hermione half to death again by falling on her with nothing but your boxers on." George gawped at his brother.

"How do you know about that?" He demanded.

"Ha, Fred told me," Charlie said with a sad smile. "She was visiting and you were running down the hall with nothing but your boxers on. Uhh… Why exactly?"

"Test product gone wrong. Don't tell mom though…" George paused. "No, it doesn't matter. No more tests in the house even if I still tested at all, I have the shop still."

"Test products gone wrong? What on earth were you testing in nothing but your boxers? That sounds suspicion… But anyway, what about the shop? What are you going to do with it?" Charlie asked.

"Sell it," George shrugged.

"Don't do that," Charlie protested softly.

"What?" George asked.

"Keep it."

"Why?"

"Just do it okay?" Charlie smiled weakly at him. "It's what he would've wanted." With that last remark he turned and suddenly left the room, leaving George to his thoughts.

He's right. Fred would've wanted me to keep at it. George nodded, feeling a bit better. He also knew that if Hermione was here Ron and Harry were here. He needed to ask the three something very important… He quickly changed into jeans and a red polo, and outfit that matched Fred's. He wouldn't tell anybody, but it was actually Fred's shirt, not his own, that he wore. He could tell the difference, but he doubted anybody else could.

Once again he trekked down the depressing stairs and entered the dining room a little more smoothly then the day before. Bill, Fleur, Harry, Ron, Charlie and Hermione were all looking up at him in concern. He probably looked bare and exposed when he wasn't backed up by the one and only Fred Weasley.

"Hey Harry, nice job whacking Voldemort, the ugly bastard had it coming," George greeted. On normal occasions, the Weasley's would've gasped as loud as if Ginny screamed the word fuck at them, but it seemed there was only a buzzing air of surprise in the room.

"Thanks," Harry said with a rather depressed grin.

"Bill, Fleur, Hermione, mum, dad, Charlie again, Perce, Ickle Ronnings," George greeted with nods as he walked closer to his seat next to Fred's empty one. In truth he had just noticed Percy sitting next to Mr. Weasley, quiet as a mouse and sincere as a lobster.

"Oy! Stow-" But Ron was interrupted by his own yelp. Judging by Hermione's grimace and sudden movement she had just dug her heel into his foot.

"I'm actually not to hungry," George said casually, uncomfortable with all the pitying stares he was getting. "So I'm just gonna… You know…" He made a movement to dash out of the room, but that was before Bill spoke.

"Funeral's tomorrow, that's why everybody's here." George froze, his back to everybody. He ran a hand slowly through his red hair, scratching an itch that had been bothering him.

"So soon?" He asked, every bone and muscle in his body rigid from the effort not to burst into tears.

"He's going to be buried here, if that's good with you," Bill added.

"Yes, I would prefer that," George said with a stiff nod. And he left the Burrow. Just like that.


"I don't get what you're going on about Hermione!" Ron protested. "He seemed fine!"

"Idiot," Ginny said sharply.

"You call that fine?" Hermione demanded. Harry just sighed, leaning against the doorway. Everybody was sitting on Ron's bed, talking about George.

"I'm bloody miserable! But he didn't anything about Fred did he!" Ron looked as though he instantly regretted those rather harsh words as Ginny and Hermione closed in on him.

"Not to you he didn't," Ginny said, her voice dangerous.

"Ron for once, please, use your brain!" Hermione said, her voice equally dangerous, though to Harry the words didn't seem to fit her tone of voice.

"No I didn't' mean it! George must be worse off then me. I mean, who could stand it?" Ron asked. "I can hardly stand it…"

"How did it happen anyway?" Ginny asked softly, sitting back down in between Ron and Hermione.

"Killing curse," Harry said gruffly, heading over to the window sill.

"Oh… Who did it?" Ginny asked again.

"Rookwood," Hermione said. Harry was surprised at this, he had no idea how she knew.

"Really?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, remember when Percy chased after him? That was why," Hermione said.

"I didn't realize…" Ginny said, her voice breaking. Harry turned to her in concern, ready to be there if she needed him. "They really actually cared about each other."

"Of course," Ron said, his voice sounding heavy. "But I still don't get why George looked fine!"

"He didn't and he isn't!" Ginny protested. Harry sighed and looked out the window, shocked at what he saw. None other then George Weasley was sitting by the shed, leaning against a fence, head buried in his hands.

"Goodness Ron! He obviously isn't fine! Harry, help me out here," Hermione begged. Harry turned towards them and stood by the window.

"Ron, call this fine?" He asked, gesturing out at George. Ron, Hermione and Ginny all rose and slowly walked to the window sill. Harry moved past them, waiting for their reaction.

"George…" Ginny whispered quietly. Hermione said nothing, but Harry was sure she was looking.

"Bloody hell he's crying," Ron said, gawping. "I've never seen George cry… never…"

"HIS TWIN JUST DIED YOU IDIOT!" Ginny screeched, obviously broken down by seeing George this way. Harry instantly knew that it was than that she needed him. Before she let herself crumple to the floor Harry rushed over and caught her around the waist and shoulders, bringing her up. She cried softly, not sobbed as she hardly cried at all, onto Harry's shoulder. Ron blinked, stung and feeling rather foolish. He averted his eyes, grief shining in the tear drops of his eyes.

"I need to go talk to Perce," he said quickly, rushing out of the room.

"Oh for goodness sakes," Hermione muttered. "Are we just going to leave him?" Harry gave her a warning look over Ginny's red head and she fell silent. "I'll go talk to him," she said, surprising the embracing couple. She left in a hurry and Harry frowned to himself. Was it just him, or did Hermione seem all to eager to go?


Well that was an odd chapter. You get a little taste of Harry being the main character again it seems. Next chappy is the funeral, just to tell you…