George hadn't smiled since Fred's death. Not even once. More than a year had passed, yet George was still mourning for his twin. This took its toll on the rest of the family; Fred and George, mischievous spirits that they were, used to be the source of light and laughter in the Weasley household. Granted, the other Weasley children, but for Percy, did their fair share, but Fred and George had truly been the family comedians.

Now, however, things had changed. Fred was gone; George was deeply depressed. He hadn't been to work since the Battle of Hogwarts; the shop had a saddening sign on the front that read "Closed until Further Notice." Passing children would always look unhappily upon this sign, wondering what had happened. George had enough money to last him a lifetime, but the children, and even some adults, missed him, his cheerful demeanor, the two Weasleys, jollily going about their business in the shop and playing with the little ones.

George sat by his twin's grave in the Weasleys' yard. Fred had always wanted to be buried at the Burrow, rather than in a general cemetery. George couldn't take it any longer, couldn't survive without his brother and best friend. His family didn't need him, for all he was doing was making them more depressed. They had moved on; he had not. Fat lot of good I'm doing everyone, he thought. Might as well just go and – hey, that's an idea. George was that desperate to be gone, gone from this world, gone forever.

That night, he went to the bottom of Stoatshead Hill, to the side facing away from the town of Ottery St. Catchpole. No one would ever find him there, his family would not have to know the gruesome thing he was about to do. They could move on once George was no longer weighing the rest down with the memory of his identical twin. George didn't want to live any longer, had no motivation, no laughter. He closed his eyes, laid down in a dreamlike state, and placed the point of his wand on his chest.

Luna Lovegood and her dad had rebuilt the house fairly well after the Erumpet explosion and ran the Quibbler together. The magazine had gotten a surge in popularity after the Second Wizarding War, having had exclusive interviews with people as important as Harry Potter himself afterwards. However, it had reverted to its former nonsensical and odd ways. The Quibbler was still selling pretty well, though, since the Wizarding population seemed to have become more open-minded since the Ministry had been de-corrupted.

Each night, Luna would stroll in and around the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, often circling Stoatshead Hill several times, sometimes fishing for Gulping Plimpies and sometimes merely stargazing. She was taking one of her nightly strolls when she looked down and saw someone lying on the ground. It was George Weasley. She laid down beside him.

"Hello, George. The stars are nice tonight, aren't they? I can see Orion over there – can you see his belt?"

George jumped up, snapping out of his trance, eyes wide. "LUNA! BLOODY–"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said serenely, rising to her feet as well. "Did I frighten you?"

"Frighten me? Well, I am surprised. You're the last person I'd expect to come along right in the middle of my–" He stopped, cutting himself short.

Luna was puzzled. "What, you weren't looking at the stars? They are quite interesting. Have you met the squirrel on the left star of Orion's belt? He's quite a charming little creature."

Now it was George's turn to be confused. "Squirrel – Orion – no – I was – I was – going to – kill–" And he wept.

Luna understood, though. "Fred wouldn't want you to."

"Wh – what?" he said, drying his eyes.

"Fred," Luna continued, "wants you to go back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The children miss you."

"How would you know?"

"Orion's squirrel told me," she said simply.

"What the–" And then George burst into laughter for the first time in over a year.

Luna couldn't see what was so funny, but she was glad George was happy. She and her father had worried about him.

"Goodnight, George."

"Goodnight, Luna."

She pecked him quickly on the cheek and then continued her peaceful walk.

George laid down on the grass. If he squinted hard enough, he could see the squirrel on the left star of Orion's belt.

The next morning, George bounded happily down the stairs for breakfast, a smile on his face.

"Good, morning, George," his mother said gloomily.

"G'morning, Mum. Fine day, isn't it?"

"It–" And she turned around to see her sun grinning cheerily.

"Oh, Georgie!" she exclaimed, wrapping him in a tight hug.

The Weasleys went back to being their old happy selves after that. George reopened his shop and children everywhere rejoiced. Of course, the Weasleys never forgot Fred, but they made do.

And every night, George and Luna would lay side by side at the bottom of Stoatshead Hill, having conversations with Orion's squirrel.