George awoke at The Burrow to Mrs Weasley walking in with breakfast on a tray. It was Sunday morning and he had been working hard at the shop the day before with Ron.

"George dear, what's this funny little box? Is it another of your experiments for the shop?"

George dozily looked to where his mother was pointing, on his bedside table. There lay the box which Fred and Violet used. He had no idea why it was there, he didn't think it was there when he went to bed... But that must mean Violet sent him something.

Obviously because Mrs Weasley didn't know about Violet, George had to cover up the truth.

"Err... Yeah. I wouldn't open it if I were you." George said, hastily grabbing the box.

Mrs Weasley gave him an odd look and wandered back to the kitchen. As soon as her footsteps had disappeared, George opened the box and grabbed the paper that was slightly scrunched up in it. He read it and then stared blankly at it, thinking: Well, Fred wouldn't want me to not help her... It'll probably be just this one time.

So he decided, rather reluctantly, to agree to meet her that night. He told his parents that he needed to sort out a few things before tomorrow and would leave in the evening and stay over at the shop. George had no idea what he was going to do when he met with Violet. He didn't much like talking about Fred's death with anyone and definitely didn't want to with someone he had only just met. Sure, he had sent her that note, but he didn't think she would take it seriously. He didn't want to her to see him crying, even if he tried to hold it in, he knew a few tears would escape.

Throughout the whole of the day, George was kept too busy to think about Violet. Although the same could not be said for her.

Her mother and father noticed the change in Violet's behaviour and decided to give her time off from working in the shop. She hated every second she was alone with her thoughts. As soon as she was by herself, they swarmed around her, like violent wasps inside her brain, not making any sense. Violet wanted to be kept busy, to do something with her hands so that her brain wouldn't have to think. Much to her disappointment, the day went torturously slow for her and she kept begging the time to go faster so that she could see George.

George's day, on the other hand, went (much to his annoyance) rather too quickly and soon it was time for him to meet with Violet.

"This is for Fred." George muttered as he apparated to the tree house where he and Violet met before.

George stood at the foot of the tree and took a deep breath, willing himself to clamber up the tree. When he reached the top, he saw Violet already sitting in a corner, tear tracks down her face. She gave him a watery smile. He smiled nervously back.

He smiled at me, that must be a good sign. Thought Violet, looking into George's eyes.

"You came." She smiled, still staring at him.

George smiled again, feeling more confident this time and sat next to her, leaning against the wall. He then started talking about his life with Fred, playing Quidditch at The Burrow, at Hogwarts and describing each of the pranks that they both pulled whilst at school. He didn't know why he was telling Violet this. He hardly knew her, but he felt so at ease, and it felt like he could finally breathe for a long time since Fred's death.

Violet didn't speak a word while George told her all of this. It was obvious that he just wanted someone to talk to, someone to listen and relive Fred's memory with him. She smiled again.

"You're so much like him." She breathed looking up at his face, the same face that Fred had. "Not only in looks, but in personality, you have the same smile, sense of humour, everything."

He looked back at her, his breath catching. What was she trying to say?

It all happened so quickly, Violet reached up and cupped his face in her hand and pulled it towards her own, kissing him lightly on the lips. George kissed her back.

"Freddie..." The whisper slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

This made George come to his senses. He pulled away from Violet and stood up.

Violet tried to grab at his hand, apologising over and over, saying how she didn't mean to, how it wasn't her fault. But it was all clear to George. To her he was just a replacement of Fred. They looked the same, in her eyes they acted the same and were the same person. But they weren't.

"I'm sorry. But I'm not Fred. We are not the same person." George whispered softly, although to Violet he might as well have shouted it at her. It hit her like a blow to the stomach.

And just like that he was gone. She never saw him again.