Clouded Siety

"You're sure you'll be alright, then?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Because I can go with you if-"

"I've told you a hundred times before: I'll be ok."

"I suppose there's no use in arguing, then. You know, ever since... well... You seem to be a bit more like Fred than you did before."

"Do I? Well... That is to be expected, I should think....."

"Perhaps. So you will be alright?"

"Yes, Katie. I'll be fine."

"I'll see you soon then, George. Oh, and do your best not to forget. Alicia has been waiting for this for the longest time. The last thing you need is to be skiving out."

"I know. I promise I'll be there." There was a crack, and Katie was left alone in the dark house. She sighed, shaking her head and walked slowly towards the fireplace. He just hadn't been the same ever since Fred had died. Though it had been unexpected, it had happened nearly ten years ago. George should have moved on by now. But every year, when the time came about, he seemed to sink deeper and deeper each time into a pit of depression.

It had been a rainy day; the first of April, and the twins' birthday. They had all been at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes when it happened. All the Weasleys, Angelina, Alicia, Hermione, Ron, and herself. They were having a good time celebrating their 26th birthday. Until the Death Eaters charged in, striking anything they could. It was a miracle that they had made it out alive. Everyone but Fred.

George had settled into a blank state for years, until at last he snapped out of it on a whim, and had finally married Katie. But still, the memories haunted him, and while George didn't want to forget his brother, he didn't seem to want to remember him. The fact her husband acted like Alicia would break at any second, and had been furious when she had been engaged; Katie felt a strong bit of jealousy. But she forced herself to dismiss it. The healers said it was a phase from the loss of his brother. Not that they ever seemed to get anything right.

Today George was headed to his twin's grave. He'd be there for hours upon end, seeing as today was the day he had died. Sometimes Katie wondered if Fred had stolen her George and taken him with him when he had died. But she knew she was silly. Perhaps if Fred had become a ghost..... No. That would have only made things worse.

She knew George would never come to Alicia's wedding rehearsal, and although he wasn't part of the wedding itself, Alicia wanted him there. But it wouldn't happen. Not today. Katie believed Alicia had tried to bring a happier part to normally depressing time of year. But it only seemed to push George farther away....

She shook her head as her hand ran along the mantle. George had so many pictures of himself and Fred; Katie found she never knew which one it was. Unless, of course, it was a picture with Alicia. Then she knew it was Fred. And yet, sometimes, she noticed the same gleam in the happy-go-lucky eyes of the picture Fred, and the real George now. She decided it was a twin thing.

The pictures were there year round, though a few made it to their room, where George hounded over them like an obsession. He just couldn't let go. While this wasn't a particularly bad thing, it was healthy either. No one in their close knit group, be they friends whom might as well be family or actual kin themselves, liked to see the once nearly crazy man so sullen.

Katie shook her head once more, deciding that enough wasn't enough. She couldn't dwell on these things forever. They would have to pass, and well, if they never did, then they never did. There wasn't much anyone could do, really. Heading into the kitchen, Katie wiped her hands on her apron, and returned to her cookies.

-----------------

The flowers on the grave didn't seem to have much meaning. Fred had never been... Well. No. He had been a flower person. Sort of. It was all confusing. Nothing he could do. He sighed, staring down at the gravestone. It read 'Fred Weasley. Beloved brother, son, and twin. A hearty prankster to the end. A Hogwarts legend through and through. Oh dear brother, we miss you...' It wasn't the best poem in the world. Ginny had written it. But George liked it.

He clenched his fist, feeling the familiar tears rolling down his face. He suppressed a sob, taking in as much air as he could. Why he couldn't let go, he wasn't too sure.

'It's your secret...,' the voice in the back of his head hissed.

He sighed once more, collapsing to his knees. He didn't like this. Why could he just let go?

'Because you're the only one that knows.'

He let out a slight sob, and before long, he was crying harder than he had since his twin had actually died. Sometime later, he noticed it getting dark. His tears had long since dried, leaving salty streaks down his face. He was now staring at the gravestone, eyes blank and empty.

"...Miss you George..."