George looked around his mess of a flat, as he spent the third consecutive hour sat on his couch. In the year since Fred died, he seemed to be spending a lot of time on his couch and had let things slip at the shop too. It had been like his heart was ripped out from his chest when his twin brother was killed during the war. There had been a couple of months of family mourning after the war, before George decided to move out on his own. The middle Weasley child had barely spoken to his parents since then; only being able to think of his brother when he did.

George pushed the takeaway boxes as he made his way to get another fire whiskey, to drown out his feelings. As he made his way to the kitchen, he heard a knock on the flat door, so he gave up on his mission and head over to the door.

"Seriously George, I have been trying to get in contact with you for two days now." Angelina walked in to the flat and immediately began tidying up. "I even went to the shop on my lunch time and it was closed, both times. Have you even opened up the shop this week?" Angelina and George had been dating since the end of the war, but things were strained now as George became worse and worse.

"You know you could have come to visit me here, which is where I have been." George folded his arms as his girlfriend berated him.

"You are completely missing the point; I have been working my ass off to save up so we can actually buy our own flat together, but you don't seem to notice this at all." Angelina threw the empty carton of pumpkin juice, she had been holding, back on the floor. "It has been a whole year George, you have to move on; Fred wouldn't want you to be like this." The mention of his brother's name caused George to flip.

"How would you know what he would want? You don't know him like I do; you have never lost like I have. Sometimes I wish you would just leave me alone to be how I want to be; there is nothing wrong with missing your brother." His arms were now flailing all over the place, fuelled slightly by the fire whiskeys he'd consumed earlier on.

"No there is nothing wrong with it, but you really need to move on or you'll end up a complete mess."

"I don't need you talking in my ear like this I am a grown man and I can do as I please; so if you'd kindly piss off."

"Don't worry I am going and you can rest assure I won't be talking to you anytime soon. You can forget about us moving in together; I deserve better than how you've been treating me. From what I have seen this past year you are definitely not a grown man, you are still just a big child and a complete idiot." Angelina stormed past George, who didn't try to stop her, and slammed the door as she left the flat. He was now stood, still surrounded by a mess despite Angelina's best efforts, in the middle of his flat alone again.

After a couple of moments of contemplation, George walked over to the kitchen and grabbed the almost empty bottle of fire whiskey from the counter. Not content with this measly portion of whiskey, George rummaged around in the cupboard and brought out a full bottle. With his new friends George walked out the door and began walking towards Diagon Alley. As he walked through the streets he began taking large gulps, straight from the bottle. Stumbling along the road, George got several looks from people still on their way home from work. He eventually reached the front door of his shop and began fumbling for the key, unsuccessfully. After much effort he finally got through the door and finished off the two bottles, before falling asleep on the floor behind the counter.

George's peaceful sleep was broken by a loud knock on the door; the noise caused, the still slightly drunk man, to bang his head on the underneath of the counter. Dazed by the bang on the head he placed both hands on the top of the counter to pull himself up, to find in was now morning. He rubbed his eyes as he walked to the door, where a twenty-something witch was eagerly smiling, waiting for the door to open.

"Hello, sorry to interrupt your work there," the witch clearly thought he was setting up the shop and not sleeping off a drunken stupor. "It's just I'm heading to my nephew's second birthday party and I haven't got him a present." George suddenly became aware that he smelt of alcohol.

"Yes please come in; I have to go and sort something out at the back, but please have a look around." George ran to the storeroom and found an instant spruce up potion he had been working on a couple of months ago. Once he was satisfied that he no longer smelled like a brewery, he made his way back in to the shop. "Have you found something you like?"

"Yeah I do like the look of this dragon thing." She had picked up toy that would generate a small dragon when opened, which could be played with. Instead of blowing fire the dragon would blow tiny fireworks.

"Oh yes, my nephew absolutely loved this toy and it doesn't cause any damage to the house. You can get around twenty hours of play before you have to get a top up spell. I can give you a top up for half price in case he does play with it too much. My nephew managed to go through two top ups, in a week, he played with it so much."

"That would be wonderful; you really have saved my life here." She smiled. "My sister would have killed me if I turned up without a present. I am rubbish at buying presents I always until the last minute; I normally do my Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve."

"Well you see it helps that I own a joke store never short on things to buy people." George smiled for the first time in two days.

"Do you really make all of these toys yourself?" She looked around at the mass of products which lined the shelves.

"Yep, although I haven't made that many in the past year; hopefully there will be some new ones over the next few months."

"It's amazing, how do you even come up with all these things?"

"I don't know really, me and my brother used to invent all sorts of things when we were younger."

"Well I'm definitely glad you have this shop or my sister would never talk to me ever again, not that it would be a bad thing." She muttered to herself as she began to walk away. "It was nice to meet you and I'm sure you'll see me in the shop, for more presents, again."

The witch's jolly nature had cheered George up briefly and he decided to open up the shop for the first time that week. Exhausted by the end of the day he decided to go and see his brother Bill, the only member of his family he spoke to regularly. He would see him about once a week and they would drink themselves silly and George would forget about all of his problems. Tonight would be no different; Fleur had gone to the Burrow with the kids, she was now good friends with Hermione and Ginny, and the house was empty. The middle Weasley closed the shop door, before apparating to his brother's garden, which was somewhere in Scotland. Bill had moved to Scotland for some peace and quiet; being a wizard though, he was never too far away from everything.

"George, I've been wondering where you've been. You didn't come up to visit last week I thought maybe you'd left the country." Bill pulled his brother in for a hug.

"Yeah sorry about that, I've been wallowing in my own pity again." George laughed; Bill new about his brother's emotional swings and they would make jokes about it. It helped George to have someone to talk to and didn't try to make a big deal of it.

"Ah I see, well I hope you've managed to get yourself back up on your feet again." They walked in to the living room, where there were two beers sat on the coffee table.

"Sort of, it has been a bit of a weird two days to be honest." George took a sip of his beer as he sat down on the couch. "Angelina and I broke up yesterday."

"Ow, brother I'm sorry; what did she say?"

"I don't blame her really; she said she deserved better than me. Although, It was after I told her to piss off, because she was telling me to get a grip on myself."

"You really do have to get a grip on yourself George; she is completely right about that."

"I know, but I will do it in my own time."

"Whatever you say, but if you leave it any longer you're going to end up like Filch from school. With weird hair, a cat as your best friend and no family; just be careful."

"Thanks Bill I knew you'd be sympathetic." George laughed; the pair slowly consumed the contents of Bill's house and by two in the morning they could hardly stand. Fortunately for them Fleur had decided to sleep the night at the Burrow or they would be in trouble at the state of the room. There was a bottle of fire whiskey lying on its side dripping, the small contents it held, on to the floor. While there were also several bottles of beer strewn across the room, causing a bit of a smell.

"Right, I think it's time for you to go to your own bed; I don't want my wife to come home and find you in one of the kid's bed." Bill staggered to his feet and began dragging his brother up also.

"Bill, can I tell you something?" George couldn't lift his head to look at Bill, so he just stared down at the floor as he spoke. "I think I might be in a little bit of financial trouble."

"In what way?"

"I don't know the full situation, because I need to talk to my accountant, but basically I have a few bills outstanding and if I don't get them sorted I will have to sell the shop. I haven't been opening up quite a lot so I'm not making enough to cover the rent and the wages." George stifled a sob.

"You're such an idiot." Bill dragged his brother outside. "You need to talk to your accountant as soon as possible and get this whole mess sorted out. You have invested far too much in to the shop and I am not letting you lose it now. Right, try not to splinch yourself and remember Charlie is coming home in four days, so we are having dinner at the Burrow, don't miss this one or mum will have you killed!"

"Yes sir!" George mock saluted at Bill, before apparating back to his flat and immediately collapsed on to his bed.