Welcome to a new story that has been being written for the last couple months. :D It's almost finished! But I'm not going to be uploading as I write because that would kill the suspense. It's a George x Oliver story.

Warnings: Spoilers for the entire series. Boy love.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

NEW NOTE AS OF 12/11/14: This fic has been censored. To find an uncensored version, please visit my a03 account under the same username.

George stared down at his twin, looking for the last time, at his once living mirror. His mum was sobbing beside him, clenching his fingers so tight he thought they might snap off.

Haha, add it to my list of disfigurements.

George rested his hand over Fred's, wishing they could switch places, or that he could join him. Either or really. He wrapped his arm around his mother's waist and led her away so that the remaining guests could pay their last respects. AS the people walked up, George found he couldn't recognize all of them. That pissed him off. If he didn't know who they were, Fred certainly hadn't either, so why were they paying their respects? What sadness did they feel?

He zoned out, blindly shaking the hands of those who passed by and offered their condolences. When a familiar hand slipped into his, he looked up, meeting the eyes of a friend he hadn't seen in quite a few years.

"Wood? That you?"

The old chaser gave a small smile. "How are you George?"

The red head shrugged. "Been better."

"I'm so sorry. He was...he was amazing."

George swallowed, choked up. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Contact me, if you need it. I'm only an owl away." Oliver produced a small piece of paper and George saw upon it was the man's address, elegantly written.

"Thanks. I...thank you."

The right side of Oliver's lips twisted up in a shy smile that George knew all to well, and then the man hugged him, tight. George didn't move, neither accepting nor rejecting the move, but unable to express his appreciation of it either. He wanted Fred back.

"Take care of yourself, George."

"You too."

(break)

Two months later

George stared blankly at the ceiling. The room was dark, the curtains drawn, and it smelt of musk and dust, with an underlying familiar scent that had him turning his face into his pillow every once in awhile, taking a deep inhale. In the flat above their store, George lie on the bed in Fred's room. He missed Fred. So much. How could he even think of going on without his twin, his other half?

Blimey, if he heard me now, he'd hit me upside the head, George thought.

But it was true. Fred really was his other half. And now he was gone. There was no one to read his thoughts, no one to hold him when he was so upset he couldn't speak, no one to play pranks with, no one to sit in the study and read with. No one to talk with.

George curled up in a tight ball, hugged the pillow close, and tried to sleep.

(break)

He was just flipping the open sign to close when with a pop, Ginny Weasley appeared at the entrance. She looked at him expectantly, gesturing towards the door. Sighing he opened it, just enough to peek his head out.

"Yes, darling sister?"

"Let me in now, George," she ordered sternly, eyes stubborn.

"Yes ma'am," George said, knowing better than to argue with her. As Ginny had grown older, he had found her stubborn streak to become progressively more apparent.

Ginny shoved her way inside, hands held behind her back. "Guess what I have."

"Ginny, I'm tired. Hurry up," George said.

"Oh fine, ruin the fun," Ginny said with a roll of her eyes, but revealed to George her prize. "Two tickets to Puddlemare United vs. Tutshill Tornados!"

George stared at the tickets for several tense seconds. "How? I thought they were sold out?"

"I have my ways," Ginny said, winking. "Now, come on. I hear Oliver's their Keeper now."

George felt his heart jump at the thought of seeing Oliver again, and actually watching a Quidditch game after it had been banned for so long. It had only been recently reinstated, with this game being the first to kick it off, so it really was a miracle that Ginny had managed to get the tickets. His sister was a bloody genius.

"Um...I don't have anything in Puddlemare colours," George admitted.

"So we'll change the color of your clothes when we get there. Come on!" Ginny grabbed his arm and with a pop they were outside the stadium.

Ginny waved her wand a few times and when George looked down, his dress shirt and pants had turned a deep navy blue with the two golden crossed bulrushes on the front.

"Uh, Ginny, I'm not that big a fan of them. I don't wanna seem like a dolt or something," George said, picking at the shirt with a look of mild distaste on his face.

"Oh shut up, you git," Ginny said, waving her wand once more so she matched him. "Now, take my arm. Let's go."

George obeyed, feeling a tad dizzy from how Ginny was yanking him every which way. He allowed himself to be dragged along through the crowd until they reached their seats...in the box office.

"Ginny-"

"Hush," Ginny said, holding her hand out to none other than Lee Jordan, the announcer.

"Ah Ginny. I see you managed to drag George all the way out here," the man said. "I didn't think you could do it. C'mere George!"

George could barely get a protest out before his old friend had him in a tight hug, thumping him on the back. "Hey Lee. How are you?"

"Not bad, not bad. Oliver asked me to be the commentator for this match, and seeing as how well liked I am by his team, they figured, why not? So here I am," Lee said. "Now come on, take a seat, take a seat."

George and Ginny obeyed, sitting down on either side of the man as he rubbed his hands together. "Is this how you got the tickets?"

"Actually, no," Ginny said. "I'm not telling George, now hush."

"Annnnd wizards and witches, it's time for the first Quidditch match of the season to begin!" Lee said, using his wand to amplify his voice.

George was nearly deafened by the cheers that rose throughout the stadium, and despite Ginny bouncing up and down beside him, he could not find himself to join in. Sure, he was happy to be there. Really, he was. But...it was hard to feel much of anything these days, or at least...let himself feel it.

"Meeting on neutral ground we have Puddlemare United-"

Again, the stadium was filled with cheers, and with Ginny's continual prodding, George let out a heartfelt, if quiet, cheer as well.

"Against the Tutshill Tornadossssss!"

All at once, the fliers of both teams emerged, bursting out onto the field and zipping around the towers. George and Ginny leapt to their feet as Oliver zipped past, but the Keeper didn't see them, instead heading for his position in front of the three hoops. Finally, the teams settled into position, with the referee in the middle, Quaffle in hand. Ginny held tight to George's hand as the Quaffle was thrown up.

The Chasers zipped in, with the Tutshill Tornados grabbing it first. The game had begun.

"There goes DiFranco with the Quaffle, but Johnson is baring down on her. Difranco had taken a bludger to the stomach!"

The Quaffle tumbled from the player's hand where another Chaser, adorned in Puddlemare colours snatched it up. She weaved in and out of the players, tossing the scarlet ball into the air and twirling on her broom, smacking it hard. It hurdled towards the goal and slipped in with barely an inch between it and the Keeper's fingers.

The game continued much in this way, with no one gaining any serious ground and with the snitch nowhere to be found. Ginny shrieked a bludger hurtled towards them, but a Tornado Beater cut it off, slugging it across the field towards another Beater.

"What's this? Beaters Thomas and Lake seem to be juggling a Bludger down the field! Thomas goes to hit it but-"

The crowd erupted into cheers as another Beater, this one in Puddlemare colours, smacked the ball hard with her bat.

"It seems the Snitch has been spotted! Puddlemare Seeker Huhn is coming up on it fast. Here comes Lock! Who will reach it first? It's gonna be close!"

A Bludger suddenly caught George's eye and he turned to look. The Beater, Thomas, smacked it hard and it zipped down the field, straight for Huhn. The Seeker glanced over her shoulder, as if sensing the danger, and at the last second rolled out of the way. Lock slipped past her only to take a different Bludger to the shoulder. The Seeker's cry was audible from the stands as he spiraled down towards the ground. Huhn didn't hesitate, closing the last remaining feet between herself and the golden Snitch, closing her hand around it.

"In an unbelievable stroke of luck, the Puddlemares have taken it!"

Ginny shrieked again, this time as she jumped up, flinging herself into George's arms. Laughing, he picked her up and twirled her around once, feeling better than he had in awhile.

"You're going to join us for the after party, aren't you mate?" Lee asked, leaning over away from his wand. "We're going somewhere fancy."

"That sure you were going to win?" George asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I placed good money on this match. I had to be confident," Lee said. "So you'll come?"

"Of course we will," Ginny said.

"Oh and by the way, mate, Oliver says you're welcome down in the locker room," Lee added.

Startled, George looked at Ginny. "You got them from Oliver, didn't you?"

"I'm not telling. Now go on, I'll meet you at the entrance in a few minutes."

(break)

It didn't take George very long to find the locker rooms, seeing as how any of the guards just waved him through. When he walked in, he was surprised to see the whole team, men and women, in one room, cheering and shouting in excitement. Oliver broke away, rubbing a towel across his neck as he greeted his old friend.

"I see Ginny managed to get you out. Did you enjoy the game?"

"You set her up to this, didn't you?" George asked.

Oliver merely grinned. "So what if I did? Couldn't have you missing the most important game of all time, now could I? Lee extended my invitation, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did. Great job out there. I almost thought you'd get hit in the chest there a few times. Those Beaters were vicious," George said. "Fr- We never tried anything that dirty, did we?"

"You mean juggling the Beater down the field to bean the Keeper in the bloody head?" Oliver asked. "Thomas and Lake have done that trick before. Our team won't fall for it again."

"Hell no we won't!"

George recognized the owner of the voice as the Beater who had saved the Keeper from an injury, a short girl with jet black hair cropped so short, he would've mistaken for her as a guy if she hadn't spoken.

"Ah, this is Chris Lane. Chris, meet George Weasley, a Beater on my old school team."

Chris seized his hand and shook it. "Pleased to meet you. A friend of Oli's is a friend of ours."

"Oli?"

"You," Oliver said, jabbing his finger into Chris's well padded chest. "Are not supposed to call me that."

"I'll meet you later," George said, nudging Oliver's side. "I gotta go meet Ginny."

"Right. Ginny knows where to go. See you in a few," Oliver said, before continuing his verbal assault on the female Beater.

When George connected again with Ginny, she was frowning, staring intently at his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, moving forward to touch his arm.

"Gin, I don't want to go tonight," he said. "I just...I just want to go home."

"No. I am not having any of that. You have been sulking up in that shop for way too long George. I won't have it, and neither will Oliver. You're going to go out, get completely wasted, and have some one night stand with a random girl, or guy, or bloody animal for all I care. Understand me?"

To be completely honest, George was a little shell shocked by the language coming out of his baby sister, but he nodded nonetheless. "Oliver said you knew where to go."

"Yes, I do." Ginny smiled brightly. "Come on."

(break)

George walked into the pub with Ginny on his arm. It was full to the brim with the Puddlemare team and their fans, and it was so loud George once again feared he might go deaf.

"We're going to the private section," Ginny said, tugging him through the throng of people.

Oh my, special treatment, George thought, rolling his eyes.

They reached a doorway with a navy blue banner hanging over to keep people from seeing inside. Oliver peeked around it, eyes sparkling.

"Password?"

"Chris is sexy in fishnets," Ginny replied.

"See Chris? Everyone thinks you should wear fishnets!" Oliver said as he let them inside.

"Just because you made it the bloody password doesn't mean they think that, you git," Chris snapped.

The private room was just a large booth cut off from the rest of the pub, and around it the two Beaters, two of the Chasers, and the Seeker sat.

"Have a seat," Huhn said, purple ponytail flopping as she shifted over onto the lap of the male Beater.

Ginny slid in first, followed by George and finally Oliver.

"Alright then. Chris you've met. Li Huhn is our Seeker," Oliver said.

The petite woman smiled and waved and George couldn't help but be reminded of Tonks. It was probably the hair.

"Colin is our other Beater, and the two Chasers we have here are Lauren Johnson and Fredrick Carthy," Oliver said.

"Okay, so now that your friends are here, I demand another round of drinks!" Chris said, thumping her open palm on the table.

Several drinks later, George slipped outside and into the night air. He had started to feel a tad cramped, even dizzy from the stifling feel of the pub, and it was hard to look at Li and not see someone else.

"Hey, you alright, mate?"

George could tell it was Oliver, so he nodded. "Great ploy by the way."

Oliver slid up beside him. "This? I just didn't want you gettin' lonely at that shop of yours."

"Bloody hell, what is with you all? CHecking up on me all the bloody fucking time. I'm fine, dammit."

"I told you to contact me two months ago, and nothing. So I got in touch with Ginny to see how you were. Seeing as how you got so anti-social, we figured we'd try and cheer you up at least, and all you've been is a stubborn prick about it. I think I saw you smile once in there. Maybe."

"Because Ton-" George stopped, feeling the an overwhelming urge to scream, but he reigned it in. Shut it down. "Because Li looks like Tonks. And I keep looking at her just thinking about how...oh fuck what do you care?"

He whipped out his wand to Apparate away but Oliver grabbed his wrist and pulled him close.

"Stop running. We all lost people George. And it's really hard to get over it, but you're not doing yourself any favors by running away from the people who care about you."

"Let go."

"Promise you'll stay in touch."

George glowered at the Keeper. "Fine. I promise."

Oliver had barely released his arm before he was gone.

(break)

When he arrived back home, he opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out his bottle of scotch. He almost grabbed a cup, but decided not to bother; it was only him after all. He made his way to his room, but when he opened the door he stopped dead. There, on his bed, sat Ginny, twirling her hair innocently around one finger.

"You gonna share that?" she asked.

"Can I get two seconds of peace?"

"No. Now sit. I wanna talk."

George obeyed, taking a giant gulp of the scotch and letting it burn a path down to his belly. Ginny snatched it up as he sat down and took a drink.

"Thought you'd be a light weight," he commented. "Or get all those frilly drinks."

"Me too," Ginny said, flopping onto her back with George following suit. "I miss Fred."

"Yeah. I do too." He grabbed the bottle, took a sip, then passed it back.

"Remember when he set your hair on fire?"

"You were only 4, how do you remember that/"

"Ron told me."

George snorted, grabbing the bottle. "Ron exaggerated. It was only a little spark. Oh! What year did we turn your hair into snakes?"

Ginny sighed. "Your first year. Mum and I came to visit you and Fred, and then Fred hexed me on accident."

"Hey Ginny, I got a secret," George whispered, turning to look at her.

"Hm?"

"It wasn't an accident." He blew straight into her ear, laughing as she flew upright with a squeal.

"George! Really!" She slapped his thigh as he sat up, slipping the bottle away from her. When he stood, he took another drink.

"Did I ever tell you about the Yule Ball?"

Ginny shook her head as she leaned forward with a small smile on her lips. "What happened?"

"It was after Angelina agreed to go with him, and he was scared shitless cuz he didn't know how to dance, contrary to popular belief. So I taught him. Had no sense of rhythm but damn he could dance when I got done with him."

Ginny giggled. "How'd you decide who led and who followed?"

"Well, as much as Angelina wore the pants in the relationship, she would be wearing the dress so I was the woman."

"Didja wear a dress?"

George shook his head. "Fred tried to make me, but I'm not that much of a poof."

He passed the bottle back and sat back down.

"Do you fancy blokes at all?" Ginny's voice was quiet as she turned to look at him.

"Don't know. Don't care either. Not too keen on marrying either way," George said.

"Really? Just gonna grow up a lonely old man?" Ginny mused.

"I'll buy some cats."

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"What? Crazy cat ladies aren't ever lonely!"

"You're so stupid." Ginny nudged him and kissed his cheek. "Look. I'm gonna go before I get too drunk to Apparate. Talk to Oliver. He's...he's special."

"What the bloody freaking hell're you mumbling about?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her as he gave her a wet kiss on the forehead.

She shoved him off as she wiped at her forehead, but when she looked at him, there was nothing but seriousness in her eyes. "He cares about you, George. Talk to him some more. He's had to deal with his own losses too."

"How in the hell do you know more about him than I do?"

"I've talked to him, George. I actually send him an owl every once in awhile," she said. "Now rest up. And set up a time to hang out with Oliver. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Have a nice night Ginny. And thank you."

Ginny smiled, moving forward to hug him tight. "Anything for you George. I love you. I don't want to have to start missing you too, when you're still here."

George swallowed thickly and released her. Moments later she was gone. Sighing, he flopped onto his bed and shoved his face into the pillow before screaming as loud as he could, wishing that just once, he could cry.

(break)

George really didn't want to contact Oliver. But he also din't feel like incurring the wrath of Ginny, so during a free moment in the shop, he sat down with a quill and a piece of parchment.

The door opened, and without looking up, George called out, "Come back in a half hour. I'm on break."

When the only response was footsteps, George looked up, an angry order on his lips until he saw that the man standing before him was robed in all black with a mask all too familiar to him. He threw himself under the desk as the man pulled his wand out.

"Avada Kedavra!"

George sprang back as the desk erupted into green flames, whipping out his own wand and aiming it at the Death Eater.

"Stupefy!"

The man flew back, crashing into one of the shelves and knocking it over. George quickly put ou the fire, despite the fact that the desk was already past being ruined.

"Who are you?" George demanded as the Death Eater stumbled to his feet.

The mask slipped away in a cloud of black wisps, but before he could move, or see who it was, the Curcio curse hit him. He collapsed, groaning as his body convulsed in pain. It went on and on, so long he couldn't speak, couldn't scream, could barely think. It hit him again and he screamed, the noise tearing out of his throat, tears racing down his face. He couldn't do this. He couldn't survive. Fred-