It was a curse to be whittled down to one, when you were meant to two.

Character(s): George

George watched his father wave his wand over the last mirror in the Weasley house. He tapped the glass with a soft tap of his wand, and looked pleased with what change he saw. Touching the glass with his forefinger, he smiled again as something met his his expectations. Arthur turned to smile at George, his eye dry but blood-shot, "There we go m'boy. All done. If anyone wants to use the mirror they just need to tap it with a finger, otherwise it's frosted. Now...why don't you shower, and I'm going to pop over to your flat and shop, and go get everything ready for you when you feel like retuning."

Arthur's voice was cheery and he clapped George's shoulder. He gently tugged on the beard George was beginning to obtain before adding, "And if you need a shave...your Mum and I...we can help with that."

George smiled and rubbed his whiskers. They were infuriatingly itchy. He hated them. "Think I might keep the beard a might longer, it makes me look incredibly handsome and rugged," George said flashing a large grin.

Arthur nodded smiling slowly at his son. With a gentle pat, Mr. Weasley marched down stairs headed to join the rest of his family downstairs.

George stepped in the bathroom, and willed himself to look at the mirror.

With great relief he could not see his reflection, there was a colored blur, but he could not see his face. Though George had changed after the battle of Hogwarts, missing an ear, and sporting whiskers-he still looked like him. He could still see Fred. George had been dodging all reflective objects for almost two months now, and then this morning he shattered a mirror. He'd caught his profile in the mirror's reflection, and for a foolish, wonderful couple of seconds he thought Fred was beside him. When he realized he was next to a mirror he punched it with a scream, shattering the glass.

He'd caused quite a bit of commotion.

Bill's arms had wrapped around him, and both George and his father had grasped his bleeding hand, while him Mum immediately went about clearing glass with a flick of her wand.

George hadn't needed to say what had upset him. Before an hour had passed Hermione was instructing Mr. Weasley how to magic mirrors and make them appear fogged, while also still maintain a way for others to be allowed to use them. George couldn't help but be impressed with how his family knew what he needed without him saying anything...but then again maybe he shouldn't be. They had lost Fred too.

'But it's not the same for them... it's not,' George's mind whispered spitefully.

George snatched up his toothbrush and began to brush his teeth.

Half an hour later he had showered, and cleaned up. He wasn't in the mood to head downstairs, or to the tent that he'd been sleeping in with Ron and the others for the past two months. Instead he looked to the familiar door of his old room. Slowly he grasped the door knob, and with a bracing breath went inside. George shut the door, and with an elbow flicked on the light switch. His mother had obviously been keeping it clean. There was no dust, but nothing had been moved. There was still chaos on his and Fred's old desk. Designs for inventions, and failed tests all over the room. A piece of wand here, an extendable ear there, a piece of a canary cream over there...

George felt his throat tighten, but smiled at all the old items.

Carefully he made his way to a desk, and opened the last drawer and pulled out a stack of letters. They had been written after George had come home with a missing ear. Not right after, but as soon as George was feeling more on the mend, he and Fred had set to writing letters to their siblings and parents... just in case they died. It had been Fred's idea whispered to George in the middle of the night.

"I...I would be lost if you died that night, So would have the whole family. I can't stand the thought," Fred had whispered that night almost a year ago. He had turned away from George looking out into the night, eyes glistening. George had thought Fred had looked so different that night. Fred took in a deep breath, " So let's write something. Wills. Good-byes. Jokes. Whatever it is, we need to write something to our family... just in case the unspeakable happens."

Almost a year later, and the unspeakable had happened, Fred was gone... and George was truly grateful for his twins foresight in the matter.

Thumbing through the letters, George plucked up the last two. One was addressed to Fred, while the other was addressed to George. These had been the only two letters the pair had written apart. George swallowed hard, and carefully opened the letter addressed to him. Carefully he held the thick parchment in his hand, and after several calming breaths, began to read.

Dear Feorge,

If I have gone, and left you alone-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know an apology sounds meaningless, but there it is. I am so sorry George.

But I'm glad it was me.

Now don't get upset Georgie Porgie, hear me out! I know that's hard with you being so unbalanced and all!

But look. I'm not going to make it without you. I won't ask for help, or let on how much your absence would hurt me. I'm the more destructive out of us, and we both know that. If you're gone, then I would follow suit... in one way or another. I can't ask for help George. I'm weak in that way. But you're strong George. You could do it. You could make it. I'm not saying it won't hurt, but I am saying you're less of a git than I am. You're strong enough to ask for help.

So ask George, ask.

Don't face the world alone, because there are a million Weasleys out there. The most important Weasleys are the other seven you're surrounded by, and I know they're hurting too if I'm gone. So talk to each other. You're not alone.

Look after Mum. Don't let her cry forever. I hate it when she cries. Make sure Dad's okay too, and it's not his fault. He can't protect his children from everything. Don't let Bill or Charlie feel responsible, just because they're older. That doesn't mean they can take the blame for all this. Make sure Percy knows I forgive him for being a prat. If he hasn't come around and is still being an idiot even after I'm dead-well then he can fuck off. (You don't have to tell him that. I won't do that to you Georgie.) Tell Ron I'm sorry about his bear. It's always bothered me that I did that. I'm sorry I took the piss out of him so much, but I loved him. Don't let him think I hated him. And Ginny. Our little partner in crime. Tell her to stay as she is, and that I love her. And that any boy she dates I plan on haunting.

So I mean it when I write that I hope its me that kicks it. I'm selfish. I would hurt our family more by leaving them later if you were lost. But you won't do that, because you're so strong. So much stronger than me.

I love you mate,

With the fondest farewell from your much better looking brother,

Gred

P.S. I'm really sorry to have left you alone. So sorry George.

P.P.S. I'll be looking out for you. Don't worry.

George was sobbing as he folded the letter. He tossed it on his desk and buried his face in his hands, his body shaking as it was overtaken by his sobs. He cried for a long time, but eventually a few chuckles began to escape him as his tears slowed. The letter was so Fred. It was a literal piece of him. For a moment Fred was sitting here with George, and they were a pair again. Swallowing hard, George folded up the letter.

He would never be fully okay, not ever again. But he could try. He could live. Even with this cold dead hole at his side, even if he could never look in another mirror again, he could live because Fred had asked him to. Because Fred believed in him.

Leaving the letter behind for now, George got up. Quietly he left his childhood bedroom behind, and went to rejoin his family.

End