A/N: Of course the usual disclaimer as if it wasn't obvious enough. I don't own any of this. I've never really read a fic about George or Fred although I love them both, I just got to thinking and this little idea landed in my head. I don't know if this has been done before, but I don't care. Enjoy!

It had been a month since the final battle of Hogwarts. Everything seemed to glow with an unnatural light after that history making event. People were much happier. The cities were busier. Even Knockturn Alley looked brighter. There seemed to be no gray colors of any sort.

Then...why don't I feel overjoyed? You-Know-Who had been vanquished! All his followers either dead or rotting in Azkaban! But ever since that day, I have been the most miserable of wizards.

It's very much against my persona to act so downcast. I was always the one to crack a joke or to look gloom and doom in the face and laugh at it. Of course, I was never alone in my endeavors.

A few days after the battle, there had been a mass amount of funerals, even that bloody bastard Snape had one because of his acquittal that Harry had fought so much for. People actually attended too. Hell, even I did. Even after the fact that I now had one less ear because of his 'mistake'.

The hardest funeral, the one that stood out to me the most, was my own brother's. I was silent all throughout it. I never once shed a tear for my other 'half'. I know I'd only make Fred frown at me if I ever showed tears at his funeral.

I could almost hear his ringing laughter in my ear. He'd probably even make me do his eulogy. 'Oh holey-ist of holeys! Priest George, presiding.' I inwardly smiled when the Fred-like phrase came into my head during his burial. But what I could not understand was that prick Percy. He was bawling all over MY brother's casket. What right does he have? He's hated us for the past few years only to show up later to mourn for a brother who constantly berated him, me included. I decided to ignore Percy altogether, despite the fact that he constantly tried to talk to me, like he knew me, like he cared...

Mum's been taking it extremely hard, she was always the one who was intent on unity. She believed that when we were all together it was the best of times. Now with that tie permanently severed, I don't know how she'll hold together.

Ever since that gloomy day, I've had to operate our shop alone. Be happy, George, don't let anyone suspect anything! Especially little Ronniekins, he would think the world imploded on itself if his good natured brother was to turn wishy-washy.

But with each passing day, it's been getting harder and harder to keep up this facade. Fake smiles everywhere, fake jokes left and right. I've been closing the shop earlier and earlier despite the fact that Diagon Alley has been the busiest its ever been. I watched children with longing in their eyes at the colorful displays in the windows.

i feel bad about denying them. I know Fred would want me to keep it open. But what's one to do, when your soul has been ripped away from you, only leaving about half of it to attempt to mend. And that half was already faulty to begin with.

Whenever Fred and I were around others, we always spoke as one, or thought as one. However, that wasn't always the case. Although I would have my moments of brilliance, Fred was the mastermind behind our pranks, our inventions. I always hid in his shadow, but remained was his equal in public while he was the real mind behind our madness. He would highly disagree, but I know it's true.

Today is no difference, with my closing up shop early. Sitting in our, now my, office, looking around the cluttered room with longing. I miss him. I'm finding it harder and harder to function without him. I can't go though everyday feeling like this. How can one live with only half a tattered soul?

A noise distracting my un-Weasley twin thoughts made me look up. Through the open door, came a person I knew quite well. The savior himself, Harry Potter. His eyes express a certain amount of sorrow and pity. They sweep the room before finally landing on me. A long pause before he breaks the silence.

"Hey, George, how are you faring?" his voice is laced with concern.

With another fake smile in place I answer, "Hey I've been just fine! Ya know, I should thank you. Business has been great without You-Know-Who lurking about!"

He eyes me with knowingness. Almost like he can see straight through me. "But why are you closed if the streets are busy? And it's early in the day?"

I shake my head, "Oh no, my dear Harry. You see, we business men need to stay on top of things. So this is really just a....oh now what's the word.... recuperating day." Smile still in place, I tilt my head to the earless side like a puppy.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "It seems to me like today'd be one of the worst days to have a recuperating day. There are a lot of people outside wanting to buy."

"Hmmm," I sigh uncharacteristically before I catch myself. Unfortunately for me, Harry is right on top of me. "You miss him don't you?"

I don't answer right away. I just look at him. Smile already sliding off my face. I slip my head down, not willing to give an answer.

I hear him cross the room, I feel his arms wrap around my shoulders. I hear him say, "It's okay, you'll get through this."

I almost snap at him, but somehow reframe from doing so, I mutter a barely audible 'no'.

I can feel the tears build up behind my eyes. NO! Not now! I can't..... Harry seemed to sense my tears because he started to rub circles into my back. "It's alright, George. Go ahead."

I don't oblige, but I almost do. Oh Merlin, this is difficult! After a few long minutes of Harry comforting me and I in silence, he finally lets me go. He still doesn't say anything, but he just looks at me.

"Hey, I came over to see if you needed anything. I was on my way to the Ministry to check on the progress of the construction of Professor Snape's portrait."

I made a face. "Who'd want that personality around forever?"

Harry chuckled, "Certainly not me, but I owe him as much. He deserves to be honored with the rest of the headmasters. So anyway, I was on my way and I wonder. George, how would you like me to put in a word at the Ministry for a Fred portrait?"

I couldn't believe my ear and non-existent one. Fred. Brought back to life through a canvas. Of course I had thought of making one for him, but you needed a connection at the Ministry. A GOOD connection. Dad's strange fetish with muggle artifacts didn't make him popular around the fountain. I had almost forgotten about Harry. But portraits were expensive, depending on how long you wanted them to last. I had the money thanks to the business, but not the man until now.

"Harry, I....would love that. But would they do that? Fred wasn't really that important to wizarding society."

He smiled widely. "Of course, look whose requesting, and I can say that he was a war hero and sacrificed himself so others could have life. Which isn't a lie. They're sure to approve. I'll even bring extra canvases so he can wander around."

I stared without seeing. Fred....reunited. Although only through painting, it'd still be him. His memories, his thoughts, his mind, my twin. For the first time in a few fortnights, I gave a genuine smile.