It was the first time in George's life that he had woken up thoroughly dreading his birthday. Normally, He and Fred woke up at the same time to the smells of their mother's cooking wafting up through the floor boards. When they got downstairs there were always food, presents and family. Not today. It was true, there were presents (they had started arriving last night) and there was likely to be food with Ron, (sent by Molly of course) and if Ron was here, there was family. But there was also the fact that the memorial for Fred had sprung up again, there was no one to share presents or birthday cake with and his best friend was furious at him.

None of these things were motivating George to get out of bed. In fact, he would have laid there all day had it not been for Ron bursting into his room with Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Percy, and a handful of enchanted balloons, all of which were screaming "Happy Birthday" in musical tones.

George sat up and accepted the hugs and the balloons (vowing to get rid of them as soon as possible, they were giving him a headache) with a smile and a few thanks. It was early, before the shop was to open. Ron had spent the night here after working all night and Hermione had brought sweets, butterbeer and a ton of breakfast from the Burrow. They all ate and talked in cheery tones. All the while George hoped that no one would notice anything was wrong. He had no such luck.

"What's up with you, George?" Ginny asked while picking delicately at her bacon.

"Nothing," he lied.

"It's alright if you miss Fred. We all do. But today is your birthday, so cheer up mate," Ron bluntly. Hermione chastised him for his lack of tact.

"Yeah, I expect I'm just missing Fred." and he was. So it wasn't technically a lie.

Breakfast went on, slightly less cheerily then it had begun. George was just beginning to feel better when there was a knock on his door.

"Come in!" he called without really thinking about it, assuming it was perhaps Charlie or Bill.

It was Angelina. She was already dressed in her uniform and clutching a bouquet of neon, multi-colored daises that flashed in sequence. George could have sworn his heart stopped. He had not expected her to be in today; he had half expected her to never talk to him at all. But here she was, smiling, albeit a bit weakly, and handing him the bouquet.

"Happy Birthday, boss," she gave him a small hug. "Hello, all," she greeted the others. "I'm opening now, but I just thought I'd stop up before work. I expect I'll see you all tonight. Are Bill and Charlie coming?"

"We should all be there," Percy answered her warmly. Percy had not missed a family gathering since he had come back from the Ministry.

Angelina smiled brightly. "Well then, I'll see you tonight. Does Molly need me to bring anything?"

"Just yourself," Ginny said.

"And an empty stomach," added Harry with a grin.

"And perhaps a gift for George," Ron laughed.

Angelina joined him, "Alright then. See you all later," she waved and was out of the door before George realized he hadn't said anything. Ron looked after her.

"I had better go and help," he sighed and shoved another biscuit in his mouth, then shuffled out too. One by one, the occupants trickled out of George's flat with the promise of seeing him tonight, until only Ginny and Hermione were left.

"So," Hermione began stealthily. Ginny half-glowered at him from behind her glass of orange juice. "Angelina showed up for work today."

"You know, do you?" George asked miserably.

"Yes, She came over to Hermione's place last night in tears." Ginny said sharply. "And consider yourself lucky it's your birthday or I'd be tearing you up right now." Her eyes flashed.

"What, Ginny's saying," Hermione interrupted quickly, "is that she is clearly willing to forgive you. So I might go and apologize sooner rather than later."

"Yes, please do." Ginny continued to glare, but got up and cleared away the dishes. The girls left with a shouted "Happy Birthday" and George washed up and changed into his uniform.

He hurried downstairs, thinking he might catch Angelina before it got too crazy. Once again, he had no such luck. Between restocking the shelves, ringing up customers, and preventing shoplifting and keeping the place tidy, the entire staff was kept impossibly busy. George was forced to forget the rehearsed apology he had been thinking up since the night before.

If Angelina was still mad, she wasn't showing it. She was smiling at children and customers, offering advice on the best pranks to pull on schoolmates, and answering question after question on the new products. She didn't spare George a glance at all that day, not even when she came in with her arms filled to capacity with gifts and tokens from well-wishers.

"Thought you might want these," she said, dropping them behind the counter before hurrying off again. This only increased George's sense of dread.

It took over an hour to close and clean the shop, and Angelina moved at whirlwind speed. Finally, unable to stomach it any longer, George cornered her.

"Can we talk?" he asked. Ron had gone home to take a nap and get ready.

"I suppose," she finished straightening up a shelf and looked over at him. "What about?" her look wasn't cold, but it held none of her normal warmth either.

"I wanted to apologize," he said steadily. "I didn't mean what I said last night. I don't know why I said it," she looked skeptical. "Alright," he conceded, "I do know why I said it. I was jealous of that bloke-"

"Sean," she supplied. George blinked.

"Right, Sean. Anyway, I was just going to ask you to dance when he waltzed up and I don't know…I just got mad I guess."

"You could have still asked. I much rather would have danced with you," she chastised. She wasn't going to let him off easy.

"I know." he admitted. "I was just being thick-" she snorted.

"Yeah, I could have told you that." she went back to straightening the shelf.

"And…You were right." he stuttered a bit.

"About what?" she was moving away now, using her wand to wipe the windows clean.

"About me caring about you." George blurted. "I do care. A lot." he finished, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest.

It took Angelina a while to respond. She walked behind the register and looked at something. "You put my picture up." she said easily. "The one of me in the snow."

"Yeah," George moved toward her. "I needed to see you and you weren't here so…" he gestured lamely to the photo, mentally smacking himself for his response.

"Aren't you wondering what I brought you?" she asked suddenly, her brown eyes locking on his.

"Actually," he chuckled nervously, "I'm wondering why you're even talking to me. I thought for sure you wouldn't want to see me again." Angelina smiled slightly, but waved her hand.

"Please. George, how many times did you irate me in school with your pranks and jokes? And when did I ever not talk to you?" she had a point.

"But this one was slightly different. I never said anything like that at Hogwarts."

She looked at him seriously. "No. But I knew you didn't mean it. I mean," she smiled a bit, "my picture is taped to your cash register." George laughed. She continued. "Besides, I know it's been rough for you lately. And your birthday, well, it can't be easy."

"So you forgive me?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I guess so. Besides, I promised to go with you to the Burrow tonight, and you can't go back on a promise." she sounded serious, but her eyes were sparkling with slight mirth.

"Thanks for understanding, Ange. You always understood me." she flushed slightly, but smiled.

"Do you want your gift, birthday boy?" she asked. George thought that her forgiveness was a gift in itself, but he nodded. "Alright, close you eyes," she instructed, reaching under the counter for something. He obeyed. He heard something scrape across the counter. It sounded heavy. "You can look now," she said.

George opened his eyes and saw a large, rectangular object wrapped in brown butcher paper.

"Open it," she was smiling brightly now. George reached forward and gently tore the paper off the corner. It was a large picture frame with ornate carvings. Curious, he pulled the paper off completely. At first he thought he was looking in a mirror, but the occupant of the photo smiled and winked at him.

"Long time no see, twinsy." George gasped. Fred was staring back at him cheerily, sitting in the portrait, eyes twinkling.

"Fred?" he breathed.

"Of course, you dolt. I was wondering if any of you would get around to making me a portrait. Angelina had to do it. And she's not even family." Fred mock chastised. "Anyhow, happy birthday. You're older than I am now."

"I was always older than you," George fired back, a smile splitting his face.

"Pah," Fred scoffed. "by what, three minutes? Now you have months on me." George felt his eyes start to well up.

"I miss you, Fred." he said.

Fred's smile widened. "Of course you do. I miss you too. Heaven's not the same without my partner in crime. But don't go dying anytime soon. You've got to live for both of us now. Expand the shop, get married, babies, the whole thing." he looked at his twin sternly.

"Of course," George agreed. "Angie's been helping me in the shop. And Ron as well."

"Ickle Ronnykins?" Fred asked, impressed.

"Yeah, he's going to be an Auror soon. Imagine that. Him and Harry. Hermione is in the Ministry as well."

"Wow, I'm going to have to talk to them all." Fred said.

"I'll tell them you're here." George promised.

Fred scoffed again, but this time at Angelina. "You didn't tell him?" he asked accusingly. George had almost forgot she was here, but she was smiling, her eyes shiny.

"I had three done," she explained to George. "One for here, one for the Burrow and one for Hogwarts, so he can travel in between," upon seeing George's expression, her smile widened. "McGonagall's agreed to hang it in the castle. So he can wreak havoc for centuries if he wants to." Fred laughed.

"And when we're reunited, George, the artist said he can add you too. But that's a long way off, right?"

"Right," George agreed.

"But for now, I suggest you get going. Mum will hate it if you're late. But before you do that, I think you have someone to thank." Fred's painted eyes landed on Angelina. "And I'll even walk out of the frame so you can do it alone." He looked at George pointedly and even though it was not Fred in the flesh, George heard his telepathic message as clearly as though he'd been alive.

"Angelina," George started, watching Fred slip away out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes," she wiped her eyes hurriedly.

"Will you go out with me?" her face split into a giant smile.

"Yes, you twit. I will." George pulled her in for a hug while laughing. "Took you long enough," she mumbled into his robes.

Instead of answering, George pulled her face to his and kissed her with months' worth of repressed passion. It was the best birthday he'd had to date. And he hadn't even gone to the Burrow yet.