Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and will never make any money out of this WHATSOEVER!

A/N: After the War the Weasley family are reeling from Fred's death, from the point of view of George, Ron and Percy – following the twists and turns of their life as they learn to live without. NOT SLASH! Rated M for some explicit language and dark themes. Will contain references to self-harm and suicide, so could be triggering. Keep yourself safe and I hope you enjoy :)

This Chapter is in George's POV.

My quill was poised over a slightly grubby piece of parchment; I wasn't entirely sure who this piece of parchment was for… The last one had been for Percy, but I had known that before I even found the parchment. Now I was sitting at the desk with a quill in my hand with no idea why I had pulled out another sheaf of parchment.

I was staring into blank space near the door of the room, I was about to give up and put the parchment, quill and ink bottle away again when I realised that in my daydreaming I had written one word – Ron. I had sent a letter to Percy for clear reason, but why had I written Ron's name? Maybe I was feeling guilty about throwing Ron out a few days ago?

'Ron, Sorry for throwing those cups at your head. I'm not really sure why I did it. George.'

There – maybe that would ease my "guilty" conscience, even though I wasn't exactly sure that I even was feeling guilty about it. I'd have to wait until the owl came back from delivering the note to Percy before I could send this one.

Today was the first day in a long time – the first day that I intended to do anything, the first day that I had made a plan for what I wanted to do today. Wake up, shower, go out, come home, go to bed. It was simple; I had just been in the house so long that I had grown accustomed to not having to do anything, then days had blended into one another and weeks had passed without me realising. But today was going to be different, today I was going to go out and do something, even if that was just doing food shopping…

But I had woken up and been distracted by writing a note to Percy. Now I was still sitting staring into space, wondering whether I might change my plan so I did it tomorrow. I would have a shower, then I'd decide.

An hour long shower, maybe it was longer than that… I wasn't exactly sure, well I hardly timed the length that I was in the shower for, but by the time I got out, the sky outside was much lighter than it had been when I went in. The owl I had sent with the note to Percy was perched on the kitchen window ledge; I noticed it as I stepped out of the small bathroom and swing that window open (with some difficulty) and let the owl hop in.

"I have another letter for you to deliver." I said quietly to the owl, it hooted up at me as I carried it through to my writing desk. I folded the piece of parchment that was going to be destined for Ron and attached it onto the owl's leg by a small leather strap. "This one's for Ron, alright? He'll probably be at The Burrow, I'd take it there." I told it, before letting it down onto the window sill so it could take off. Ron would get that message in an hour or two, and, no doubt, he would come to see me – he would want to know why I was suddenly feeling remorseful for my actions! With the thought of Ron coming to visit, I decided that I should go out, walk along to the shop and buy some milk so that Ron could have milk in his tea.

I pulled on some clothes, taking no consideration as to what I might look like; and went to leave to go to the shop. However even as I pulled on shoes there was a strange weight pulling down on my insides – I couldn't explain it, but it felt like my stomach was tensing with the idea of leaving the flat. Trying to shake off the feeling, I made sure I had money and went to leave.

As the door of the flat snapped shut, the feeling intensified. I could feel that my knees were shaking vaguely and I was breathing hard through my nose. The first couple of steps took me towards the stairs; but when I got there I thought the whole world was about to collapse in upon me… My head was spinning, it felt oddly like it had been detached from the rest of my body – my legs seemed to now be made of jelly, they were shaking, but at the same time they felt like they had been filled with cement which had now set, immovable.

I clutched the handle bar of the banister, holding on for what felt like dear life; a weight that felt like it could be from a person that was standing on my chest, becoming heavier and heavier by the second. Hands seemed to be closing round my windpipe in a strangle-hold. My arms were tingling, I was hot all over and then freezing cold; I couldn't do it, I couldn't breathe – there were dark circles encroaching on the corners of my vision as I relinquished my grip on the banister and turned back to the door of my flat. My fingers were numb as I fumbled in my pocket trying to hook out the keys to my flat, but my fingers clumsily caught and dropped them more than once; all I needed to do was get back into the flat, then it'd all be alright. Just get back into the flat…

The key missed the lock four times, I counted as my chest felt tighter and tighter, the weight was getting heavier. On the fifth try the key succeeded in sliding into the lock, I turned it in a frenzied manner and slammed the door, my knees were visibly trembling even as I sat. I dropped my flat keys and they fell with a tinkling clatter as I put my hands up to my face. Very slowly the knot that seemed to have restricted my throat was being untangled and air was rushing into my lungs and making my head reel with the sudden amount of oxygen that was entering my bloodstream.

I didn't know how long I sat there for – as long as I wanted, as long as I needed until I could breathe and everything came back into focus.

I couldn't… I couldn't leave the flat!

A/N: Yet again- I apologise for the length of the break in between I last posted! I hope you enjoy :)