"Love you, Fred"

~"Love you, Fred"~

Harry stretched on his way down the stairs with Ron. He had been staying at the Burrow ever since the Battle of Hogwarts. He didn't really have anywhere else to go, though, as Ron had pointed out, probably every wizarding family in the world would gladly accept him into their home.

The Burrow, which had always felt so familiar to him, now felt like a stranger's house, no doubt because of one missing member. Harry didn't think one person in the house had smiled since they had lost Fred. He kept thinking he would turn a corner and run into him, or come down in the morning to see him laughing and joking at the breakfast table, and Harry was sure the others felt the same way. Instead he was greeted every morning by anguished faces (Percy's now added to the mix) and Mrs. Weasley's dreary "Good morning, dear." She was constantly sniffing or dabbing at her eyes, and once Harry had accidentally walked in on her sobbing over the stew they were supposed to be having for lunch.

"I'm sorry dear," she had mumbled apologetically. "Stew's almost ready. Won't you tell the others?"

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were usually wiping away their tears, and George walked around with a blank, lost expression on his face, as if he did not belong there without his twin.

Harry and Ron walked into the kitchen, and were greeted by the usual mumbles of "Good morning." Harry took a seat beside Ginny, across from Hermione, and began to eat the bacon and eggs Mrs. Weasley had set before him. Ginny was playing with her food, and Hermione was reading a copy of The Daily Prophet. George was half-heartedly attempting to make jokes, trying to make them all laugh, but even he himself no longer found them funny, and his heart was not in it.

Suddenly, the shadow of a smile flickered across Ginny's face, as though a memory was coming back to her.

"Fred, tell the one about the-" but her expression changed to one of shock and horror as she realized her mistake. Her fork clattered to her plate as she looked at George and he looked back. Everyone in the kitchen stopped, even Mrs. Weasley, and turned to Ginny and George, whose eyes held each other for a few seconds. Then George stood up, tossed his napkin on the table, and hurried up the steps.

"George-" Ginny called, making an attempt to run after him, but Mr. Weasley's firm hand kept her in her seat.

"Let him go, Ginny. For now, at least." Ginny sunk low into her seat, eyes welling up.

"I didn't mean to...I just...I remembered..."

"I know that. And he knows that. He just needs some time alone," Mr. Weasley said reassuringly. Harry saw a single tear drop onto the table in front of Ginny.

~

Ginny and George did not speak to each other for the rest of the day. George spent most of it up in his room, coming out only for meals and to use the bathroom. On those occasions, his eyes were red and puffy, and he did not look at or talk to any of them.

"I wish..." said Ginny to Harry that evening.

"I know," he said. He knew what she was going to say and he stopped her from saying it. "Listen, Gin. George knows you didn't mean to say that. He understands."

"But how do you know?" she asked desperately, getting up from her spot on the sofa. "How can you be sure he's just upset, and not...?"

Harry pulled her into his lap and kissed the top of her head. "I just know," he told her, and she relaxed in his arms and allowed him to rock her gently.

"I just...miss him...so much," she said quietly, and he knew she was crying.

"I know. We all do."

~

That night, Harry was awakened by a shriek and sobbing. Thinking of Ginny, Harry leapt out of bed, past the still snoring Ron, and headed down the staircase. He came to the edge of Ginny's bedroom. The door was wide open, and he was about to run in, when he heard another voice. He stopped dead, listening.

"Gin. Gin. Wake up. It's okay." It was George. Harry could see through the open door, in a beam of moonlight, Ginny, thrashing around in bed, and George, trying to calm her.

"Fred!" she cried. "No...no...FRED! Please, no, Fred! No, no, NOO!" She seemed uncontrollable, but finally, George took hold of her shoulders and shook her slightly. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gazed at George for a few seconds, then flung her arms around his neck and started to sob uncontrollably into his shoulder.

"F-fred," she choked out, "h-he was..." but George cut her off.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's alright. It was a nightmare. I'm...I'm here now," he said, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. After several moments, she pulled away from him, drawing her knees to her chest and sniffing. He put his arms around her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, a couple of minutes later. "I didn't mean t-"

"Gin, it's okay. I know. I've been acting horrible. I know he-" he gulped, then continued. "He wouldn't want me to mope around all the time. He'd want me to bounce back, be strong." He wiped away a tear. They were both silent for a moment. Then Ginny said, "When you were telling jokes this morning, it-it just...reminded me of him."

"I know," said George quietly. Another moment of silence.

"George?" Ginny whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I miss him."

"Yeah. I...I miss him too." They sat there for quite a long time, then Ginny spoke again.

"I'm sorry, George. You should be the one waking up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying for him."

George's next words were so quiet, Harry had to strain his ears to hear them, and he could tell George was crying.

"I do," he said to her, "but I make sure no one can hear me. I have nightmares too. About him. And I wake up crying...and sometimes it seems like...like it all...everything...was a dream. I wish..."

"I know," Ginny said to him, just as Harry had said to her earlier that day. Silence fell again, and this time nothing broke it. Harry was just about to turn away from the door, when he heard another small sound. He turned back around and cautiously peered around the door frame.

The two figures were holding each other, looking out the window at the starry sky: small, longhaired girl, tall, protective brother. For a moment, he could have sworn a third figure stood beside the two, hands on their shoulders. Harry heard three small words spoken in the darkness.

"Love you, Fred."