George Weasley walks quietly through the cemetery on the crisp summer night. He stops in front of a grave, and sits in front of it with a sigh. On the grave was a name and message etched in stone. It looked fairly new, which isn't surprising since it was only a couple weeks old.

Fred Weasley

April 1st, 1978- May 2nd, 1998

A loving son, friend, and brother

Mischief Managed

That's all the tombstone said, it was short and to the point, but George knew that Fred liked things simple, and the message was simple enough. With a big intake of breath, George was ready to pour out his heart, and with that he began to speak.

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing tonight?

I would tell you that I'm fine, but then that would be a lie.

It's been two weeks since you were taken me, two weeks since you've died.

And do you know what? This is the first time that I've cried.

Why did it have to be you? Why couldn't it have been someone different?

Why did it have to be you who bit the dust, instead of me?

I'm sorry, I take that back, that was rather selfish of me to say.

If I'd died in place of you, then you'd be the one in this predicament, crying over my grave.

You were my brother, and my partner in crime.

You were my best friend when you were alive.

And now that you're gone, I'm not the same as I used to be inside.

For when you died, a part of me died that same night.

I'll keep your memory alive though, you can count on me.

I'll keep your memory alive, and hopefully, I'll be back to who I use to be.

I better get going, Buddy, it's getting awfully late.

Mum will go bonkers if I'm out any longer, and she's a right state.

I'll be back before you know it though. I'll be back, you'll see.

I'll be back tomorrow evening, so wait on me."

Every evening George visited his brother's grave. And every day, the speeches always started the same. George seemed pleased on this one particular night, more pleased than he'd been in a while.

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing tonight?

I finally went to the shop today, and you'll never guess what.

The shop was packed; people were piling out the door.

Customers were buying things left and right, and all in your honour.

I couldn't agree with them more.

Ironic, isn't it? You're even famous when you're dead.

Ironic isn't it? Wouldn't you agree, Fred?

I best be getting back, the shops probably a zoo.

I'm going to make new products, all in reverence to you."

The days had passed, and everyday George visited his twin's grave all the same. From winter to spring, and from summer to fall, he was always there. The year had passed and it was April 1st, 1999. On this particular night, he seemed more upset than he'd been in a while.

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing tonight?

Happy birthday by the way, happy birthday to you.

We turned twenty-one today, you and I, me and you.

I know I shouldn't be sad on this particular day, but it' really hard for me.

Celebrating this day without you is difficult, you see.

Mum got me another jumper, that's the 21st one and counting.

It had an F instead of a G, and she began blubbering.

She said she'd make a different one, and apologized for her mistake.

I told her it wasn't necessary, and I'd take it in its place.

I brought a present for you. Would you like to see?

It's a picture album of just you and me.

I know it isn't much, but it was the best I could do.

Besides, you always said the simple gifts were enough for you.

I have to head out, it's almost midnight, you see.

Once the clock strikes, the birthday's over for you and me."

Everyday George still continued visited his brother, through hot and cold, and through wind and rain. After a while, daily visits turned to weekly visits, and weekly visits turned to monthly visits.

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing tonight?

I'm sorry it's been a while; I've been getting busy more often than not.

I've started seeing a girl, you know who it is.

I hope you don't mind, because it's your ex-girlfriend.

Yeah, I'm seeing Angelina, have been for about a month.

I understand why you liked her; she's great to have around.

I have a secret to tell you...I think she's the one.

I have a date with her in an hour, so I'd best be heading back.

I think I might tell her I love her. What do you think of that?"

The monthly visits soon became yearly ones, and on one particular day, George seemed...happy.

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing tonight?

I got married this afternoon. I got married, that's right.

It was really happy moment, everyone was all smiles.

It was a good feeling; I hadn't felt that in a while.

You weren't forgotten though; we had a toast that evening too.

I figured it was necessary, honouring you.

Oh, and our dear Ronnikins decided to steal the spotlight.

He proposed to Hermione. The prat stole my night!

I don't really blame him though, I was actually quite glad.

It was about time he'd done something; I was getting kind of annoyed.

I think him and Harry had something planned.

The boy who lived soon after proposed to Ginny, our little sister's engaged to wed.

I gave him the talk, with a few threats here and there.

I don't care if he's The Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, Defeater of Voldemort, and hero.

If he breaks our sister's heart, I told him he'd go from hero to zero.

Angelina's waiting for me, our honeymoon's starting soon

We're going to New Zealand, it's one of her dreams come true."

It had been another year since George came to Fred's grave, and on this particular night he was beaming with glee.

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing tonight?

I have great news to tell, in fact, I'm still shocked about it, you see.

This morning, Angelina had a baby...a baby!

I'm a daddy. Can you believe it, Fred? I'm a daddy...me.

We named him Fred Weasley, but I promise I won't get confused.

At least I hope I don't, because I have a feeling he'll grow up to be just like you.

I have something to tell you, something you might want to hear.

The hole that was in my heart has begun to heal after all the years.

I knew, looking into my son's eyes that everything was going to be ok.

I knew that you wouldn't want it any other way.

It won't heal completely, but it's better than it was in the past.

The ache doesn't gnaw at me anymore. It doesn't make me wish it was my last.

I'm sorry to cut this visit short, but I have to get back home.

I have a son to get back to, now that you know."

George's visits became less and less frequent as the years went by, and after a while George was just another passerby. He would sometimes put new flowers, but that was a rarity. He would sometimes smile at the grave, but the conversations had stopped. There was no more

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing tonight?"

The stone was starting to fade, from all the weather, and dirt, and old age. If anyone bent down to read the inscription, they would have to squint, trying to figure out what it had to say, and some of it would still be impossible to read. George had aged too, he had become old and grey. He was alone, in his simple cottage house. Angelina had passed away a month prior and his children had already become grandparents themselves. George felt a strong urge to visit his brother's grave one night. He believed he would soon breathe his last, he believed with all his might. He sat down by the grave and talked to it, just like he used to.

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing tonight?

It's been a long, long time, and I'd have to say I'm ashamed.

I don't have an excuse either; I know I'm to blame.

My moment's soon to come, Fred, I can feel it coming strong and fast.

I'll finally be at peace; I'll finally breathe my last.

I'll be with you soon...you can count on that."

George slept very peacefully that night, with a smile on his face. But when he awoke, his smile was gone without a trace. He frowned in confusion, at the mirror in front of him. George couldn't help but think that this mirror was strange. After all, the reflection had ginger hair, George was positive his hair was grey. The reflection had two ears, instead of just one. Just to make sure, George touched the gaping hole in his head. His reflection mirrored the movement, only it was smiling, and it pulled on its ear. George reached up to stroke his beard, only to find it was gone, and he frowned even more in confusion. His reflection copied his movements again, still smiling. Still curious, George reached up and plucked a hair from his head. It was ginger, not grey. Everything about his reflection was identical. It looked like George, it mirrored his movements. Everything was the same. The only difference was that his reflection had two ears and it was smiling. Why was his reflection smiling, when he, George, was frowning? His reflection was smiling...His reflection was smiling! George began to beam with realization. George was dead, and this wasn't a reflection, this was Fred! George was finally with his brother, his partner in crime, his best friend. Fred grinned back even more in response. It was good to finally have George back, and for the sake of it, Fred couldn't help but say

"Hey there, Buddy. How are you doing, tonight?

It's about time you got your mischief managed, and up-to-no goods all straight.

You know I've always been impatient, and all that waiting was making me crazy mate!

What took you so long? Things without you have been a real bore.

Still, I couldn't be more ecstatic. For you and me, we're no longer apart...not anymore."