Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to him.

Note: This was written for Fire the Canon's "50 Days of Inspiration" competition using the prompt till.

Warnings: n/a

Rating: K+

Characters: George & Harry

Word Count: 784

The was a knock on the door once more. George gave a groan that was muffled by the pillow his face was buried in. His family had been trying this every day, sending different people up to try to convince him to leave their- no his- room, and rejoin life. How was he supposed to do that when he felt dead inside? He shouldn't be going through the aftermath of the war by himself. It had always been Gred and Forge, and now who was he? Just George. It wasn't worth it.

The knock grew more insistent, and George wondered why whomever it wasn't hadn't just walked in like previous days. It had to only be days before they physically dragged him out of his haven, but he was going to fight it every moment. After two minutes of the knocking, the sound grated on his nerves enough that he finally snapped. "Just come in already!"

There was another moment, and the doorknob turned hesitantly. After a pause, it opened fully, and Harry walked in and across the room to sit on the unoccupied bed. He looked around the room, examining everything fully except George, and gave the distinct impression he didn't want to be there. Had he not been in such a dark mood, George would have snorted in amusement; the great Harry Potter could face down Voldemort and dozens of Death Eaters, but was unsure about facing a depressed teenager? Man, he must really be stressing people if that was the case.

"The till is empty," Harry remarked quietly, and George had to wonder if the young man really had lost his mind in all his encounters with the Dark Lord. He halfway rolled so he could see the other person, but choose not to comment on Harry's lack of sense.

"I don't think that was part of the agreement," Harry commented, finally actually looking at George. "I gave you my Tri-Wizard Tournament winnings so you could start up that shop of yours, and you're just letting it sit there in disrepair. So since you didn't hold up your end of the bargain, I guess you should pay it back. Granted, half was Fred's, and he did what he could, but that still means that you owe me five hundred Galleons, and with an empty till, I'm not sure how you're going to pay up."

"I thought you said you were just going to bin it anyway," George countered, not budging from his spot.

"At the time, I might have. Now, however, there's plenty of people who suffered in the war that could use the assistance. If you're not doing your part, I'd rather see it go to one of them," Harry shrugged one shoulder casually.

"So how are you suggesting that I pay you back?"

"Well, unless you have another job that I don't know of, I guess you're going to have to go back to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and run it until the payment is full."

"How am I supposed to do that? It was our store, and now he's not there anymore."

"That's your problem, isn't it? You're not willing to go somewhere that has so many memories of him. Sometimes, though, you just have to deal with it. I ended up back at Number 12 Grimmauld Place after Sirius died, no matter how much I didn't want to return to his prison," Harry admitted grimly.

"Mum sent you up here to talk to me, didn't she? You're not actually looking to get the money."

"Not if I can get you back to working and creating prank items. If you're really going to abandon your dream, then yes, I want to see the money go to help someone else." Harry paused for a long moment. "Yes, though, your Mum sent me up here to see if I could talk any sense into. The rest of your family was just as persuasive, though. They seemed to think that I had experience with losing people and dealing with guilt and everything. Can't imagine why they thought that," he commented.

"You just expect me to go back to my daily life like Fred didn't die, or like he never existed or something?"

"No, I expect you to leave your room, clean yourself up a little, and go downstairs to eat breakfast with a family that's suffering the loss of a loved one, just like you." The two young men stared at each other for several long minutes before George very slowly pulled himself off the bed and walked out the door. Harry followed with a slight smile.