I made the right decision-I constantly say this to the that part of me that so adamantly thinks I did not. 'But are you sure you are ready?'-says that opposing nagging voice inside me. I made the right decision- I repeat and turn to face Fred's bed. I sigh. The bed was unmade for several days. I had finally managed to do it one day. When I was finished doing it, mum had passed by and from the door frame only managed to pass me a weak smile. I sigh. Again. It's quite late because I cannot hear a single sound of movement, let alone any voiced, in the house and it is only during the wee hours that the Burrow is completely silent. It hasn't been this tranquil many months for now. Even after Fred died, there was always some rushing about going on in some room or the other. I turn my head towards the window instead, stare out into the darkness as I am unable to sleep.

Knock-knock

"Oi. Get up!", I hear Bill's voice booming through the door. I turn my head towards the door and there's a pain rushing through my head. I suppose I did sleep then. But in a bad posture it seems. I must have dozed off with my neck bent towards the direction of the window and my body in the other. Whatever position it was, it is now causing spikes of pain shooting through my head.

"Oi!", Bill shouts again.

"Oh stop howling and get in!", I shout back. Bill enters and his tall frame crouches to get through the doorway in hurried steps.

"What took you so long?", he gets in and finds his way to the small- not exactly small, it was big enough that took almost one entire side of the room-pile of things lying in the corner of the room. The things include everything from crazy muggle stuff dad collects to all the old stuff like photographs, the tiny jumpers mum made for us, Ron and Ginny's toys which were actually our toys passed on to them and such. Without a glance at me he begins to rashly look through the pile.

"I slept in an awkward position. Caught a cramp or something when you hollered", I manage to say getting up.

"Hmm, what did you say?", he mumbles from the pile. Apparently not listening.

"Never mind. What are you looking for?", I ask trying to move my neck.

"This-this - no. This perhaps, no.", he mutters while still fumbling with the pile of things.

"Would you tell me what you're looking for!?", I raise my voice. He stands up and climbs on the bed. He sits cross legged across from me. His face still bears the scar Greyback imprinted on him. It no longer reminds us of that beast, but instead of Remus. I see his face does not have the usual relaxed look. His hair is still at the length which mum does not desire but Fleur and Ginny absolutely dote upon. Even little Victorie plays with his hair more than Fleur's.

"Do you remember", he begins in a measured tone,"the one summer when my hair was longer?" I distinctly remember that summer. Ginny was an infant and Ron was not at school yet. Bill has this trend of growing his hair long and he did. Much to mum's agony actually. We had a brilliant summer watching mum sneak behind him to cut of his hair and he skillfully managing to dodge it. But one night, she managed it. Bill was so furious with her that he almost swore at mum, when dad intervened and put a stop at it. Good old dad, always playing the head of the family whenever it was painfully necessary.

"Who wouldn't, among us?", I chuckle.

"Well. Okay. Do you also remember that, um, that"- I wait patiently. "That-err", Bill continues.

"Bill you know you are freaking me out just a teeny tiny bit here",I urge my older brother,"But that's alright brother. You have all the time in the world-"thepictureofmeinafrockanddressedupasagirl",he cuts in urgently.

Even though his words were barely understandable I understood and roll on the ground with laughter. But a pain shoots up my neck and I stop moving but am still laughing. Bill just sits there, clearly embarrassed to have brought this up. Who wouldn't be? "Well, do you know where it is?", he says silently once I stop.

"Honestly Bill! You were a pretty little thing then", I cannot stop grinning.

I vividly remember that incident. Well it was so that because Bill's hair was flowing like that of a maiden, Charlie thought of making a memory out of it. He convinced mum too. She was thrilled. She had always wanted to doll up a daughter and Ginny was much too little an infant. They brewed a plan...to make Bill dress up as a girl. One summer evening, it was raining, and all of us, except Charlie, Bill and Mum, were in the living room engrossed in our own little projects. And then Bill, well we didn't recognize the girl to be him but we knew his locks well to misunderstand, come down the stairs wearing a frilly frock. All of us burst out into laughter. Ron's ears turned pink from his laughter, Ginny smiled in her childish cuteness from the crib, Dad seemed to have a choking fit and Fred and me whistled while rolling on the floor.

Dad managed to say,"This is probably the first time the twins had no hand in any prank," his face was red," and I shall preserve this moment. " He takes out a camera and snaps. So that was it.

"So?",Bill urges.

I am pulled back to the present, from the fringes of the fading memory, and say, "I don't. It's probably lost somewhere. Why do you want it? To put it up in your home with a frame that says- The Best of Times?".

"Shut up. It's just that, mum let it pass to Fleur and she is determined to find it. And I am determined to not let it come to her hand," he gets up," in any case."

"Have you tried the cupboard in the attic? Well, mum stuffs pile of junk in there", I say, trying to move my neck, but the blasting pain stubbornly remains.

"No! Shall do that right away",he says breathlessly.

He is about to walk out when I say,"I am moving back to the shop".

He turns around and surprisingly, hugs me. The old pain resurfaces and twists in my chest, but I ignore it.

"Good. Because I want Victorie to know her real uncle, not the other uncle which took his place." He left by shutting the door quietly. I stand up, holding my neck and walk towards the mirror.

I look at myself and whisper, "I am ready."

That scared, nagging voice in my head is gone.