Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Here is the sequel as promised. I have a lot to write about, but this first chapter is just a kind of intro/setup. I promise… it will get a lot more interesting.

A year had passed. The Weasleys had settled into some kind of new normalcy even though things were never as they had been before the war.

Molly finally abandoned her one-of-a-kind clock when she realized that none of them could bear to look at it anymore. Arthur had been spending more time at the Ministry, helping Kingsley rebuild the different departments, and Percy had moved back home and was often holed up with his father, discussing new Ministry policies. Bill and Fleur now had their first child, a little girl named Victoire, and they spent more time than ever at the Burrow. Charlie had moved back home, deciding that Romania was too far away from his family, and he worked at Hogwarts occasionally, helping Hagrid with Care of Magical Creatures. Ginny had been recruited to play Quidditch straight out of graduation, and Harry spent most of his time in Auror training, taking every chance he had to see Ginny whenever she was home. Hermione had gotten a job working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Ron, of course, was helping George with the shop.

George … wasn't the same person. Sure, he smiled, and he even made jokes once in a while, but the fun-loving part of him seemed to have died with his twin brother.

This was hardest on Ron. A lot of things were hard on Ron these days. Everywhere he looked in the shop, he saw pictures of his twin brothers, and whenever his eyes fell on Fred's face, he felt the same lump in his throat that hadn't seemed to disappear since the first day he'd come here with George eleven months ago. He thought this was supposed to be getting easier, but working in a joke shop where no one laughed was taking its toll on him. George didn't seem to notice. He didn't notice much anymore.

They were both very aware, however, that the one year anniversary of the Battle was approaching. It was impossible not to be aware. Everyday, the Daily Prophet ran a different article featuring a "war hero" who was lost in the line of duty, as the muggles called it, and all of the Weasleys lived in dread of the day that Fred's picture would be winking up at them from the cover. Ron was most nervous because he knew he, alone, would have to deal with George on that day. He didn't even know if that would be possible.

"What are you so worried about?" Hermione asked almost impatiently. She and Ron were sitting in the Leaky Cauldron on their mutual lunch break. He looked stung by her tone and tried to roll his eyes, but she immediately realized how harsh she had sounded and reached for his hand. He took hers and squeezed it tightly, and she tried to soften her voice.

"Ron, you know there's nothing you can do to stop them writing this article, so just… I don't know. Grab the paper before he sees it? Honestly, though… what do you think will happen? He'll probably just ignore it, won't he?"

He shrugged, but he looked nervous. "'Mione, I don't know. But that's kind of what I'm worried about. You know he'll barely say Fred's name anymore. Even Mum doesn't think this is healthy, but she's afraid to say anything to him. And if she won't… nobody will."

Hermione nodded, acknowledging the truth of this statement. She spooned more soup into her mouth, and when she'd finished, she glanced at her watch and gasped.

"Oh, Ron, I've got to be getting back. Don't worry. We'll think of something later. We have at least until tomorrow."

She leaned across the table to kiss him and then dashed over to the fireplace to floo her way over to the Ministry. Ron watched her go with a bemused expression on his face. No matter how worried he was…and he worried more these days than he'd ever thought he would after searching for Horcruxes for a year… she could always make him feel somewhat better. He didn't know where he'd be without her.

Dropping money on the table, he walked out the back door, tapped the correct brick with his wand and stepped into Diagon Alley. He had just gotten to the front door of the joke shop when he noticed something inside that made him freeze in his tracks. The shop was empty but for George, and he was doing something Ron had never seen him do before. He was standing before one of the photos of himself and his twin, and he seemed to be talking animatedly. Slowly, quietly, Ron eased the door open, hoping to hear what he was saying. Hopefully, he was on the fellytone, and Ron just hadn't noticed. But he wasn't.

"So we've had some good sales today. Ron's made some sales, but it isn't like he's a natural at this yet. Not like we are…"

George trailed off. He still hadn't noticed Ron, who cleared his throat, causing his older brother to jump and whirl around. They stared at each other, and George flushed bright red to match his hair. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room. Ron had a pit in his stomach. Things were worse than he'd thought. Much worse.