A/N: Less than a year to update this time? Success! Of course I'll try to be even quicker updating next time, but this is progress. School starts for me in less than a week though, so we'll see what happens.

Anyway, I had the beginning of this chapter written maybe 3 or 4 different ways, but in the end I combined bits of all of them, and this is what happened. This chapter's less, I guess, internal than the past two. There's a lot of conversation and retelling of the the trio's adventures, but I feel like it's necessary. Plus, it's a more in depth look at Ron and Hermione's relationship, which I think is important for George to know more about. I love the George/Ron friendship and brotherhood that I feel would blossom when George loses Fred, and I hope I conveyed that well here.

But anyway, I'm going to stop analyzing everything. I hope you all like it! Thanks to everyone who's read it and given me feedback!

George was in the sitting room with Angelina, Ron, and Hermione. It was evening, and what's more, George was smiling; he was happy. For hours he'd been this way: really and truly happy. The Weasley brothers were still bragging to Angelina about their earlier Quidditch victory. They didn't bother Hermione about it though, as she was, admittedly, bad at Quidditch. It had been an accomplishment for her merely to stay on her broom for the entire match. Ron was proud. He'd tried to help her as much as he could during the game. In fact, he'd tried to help her so much that even Angelina had had to yell at him to bugger off and play for his own team. George could clearly see how much Ron and Hermione loved each other, and George was really happy for both of them. They were a light in the darkness that had befallen the Weasley family. George was grateful that something genuinely good had happened during the battle.

The Quidditch match had not been a source of sadness for George for longer than the ten seconds he contemplated his broom when Angelina handed it to him. George and Fred had had identical brooms, – only the twins and any members of their House Quidditch teams knew the difference between them – and for George, the sight of his own broom quickly reminded him of that of his twin. Angelina had been quick to pick up on the slight drop of George's smile, and she almost instantly called out to George and began the game.

Besides this ten-second period where George was consumed by thoughts of Fred, the match had been the most fun George had had since the Battle. It was almost therapeutic, flying. The air rushing through his hair, the feel of the broom handle under his fingers: George had missed it.

After the match, the four had trudged back inside, all either elated, defeated, or just happy to be back on solid ground. George's mum had been just finishing dinner when the bunch walked in, and so, naturally, she had asked Angelina and Hermione to stay for dinner. Both girls had accepted, with Hermione going off to owl her parents to inform them that she was staying at the Weasley's for dinner.

George's father had joined them for dinner, as had a very happy and animated Percy, just home from work. This Percy was a far cry from the Ministry-loving prat of the past few years, and even a good deal different than the cauldron-bottom obsessed brother George had had during the twin's sixth year. Percy still loved to discuss the goings on of the Ministry, but now he cared more about the important things - family, peace, truth – and less about the ones that didn't really matter: – position, power, leaky cauldrons – all the things that had occupied his attention in the years after he'd left Hogwarts. George's parents were thrilled to have their third son back, and family dinner now was much brighter than it would have been without Percy.

As the Weasleys, plus two friends, ate dinner, George had looked around the table, and, for the fist time in ages, despite half of his family not being there, he felt almost whole. George couldn't help but smile. Angelina, as usual, had seen his joyful expression, and she grinned happily back at her friend.

After dinner, George and Ron finally stopped teasing Angelina, and the Quidditch players, plus Hermione, had ended up in the sitting room talking.

"Hermione," Angelina began, "I was talking to George earlier about house-elves—"

Instantly she was cut off by simultaneous groans from George and Ron.

Hermione looked at Ron sharply, as though he was contradicting himself in some way. George was confused. He couldn't recall Ron ever saying anything that implied that he approved of Hermione's quest for elf rights. George realized that something must have happened while Ron and Hermione were off on their journey with Harry that had changed Ron's opinion of house-elves. Or at least had changed Hermione's perception of Ron's opinion of house-elves. There must be a story there thought George.

Ron looked away from Hermione sheepishly as he tried to explain. "I'm not saying house-elves aren't good or that they don't deserve to have decent lives or anything. I just think they like serving us, so we don't need to worry about them."

Hermione looked as though she might slap him. Ron put up his hands to defend himself, if only from the glare she was giving him. "Just listen," he continued, "I don't think they should be mistreated or they should be made to punish themselves or anything. We just don't need to go overboard helping them. Come on Hermione, you know I think they should be protected from harm, evacuated if need be." Ron lowered his hands and offered Hermione a knowing smile while his ears turned bright red. Hermione, in response, turned faintly pink, her expression softening.

George and Angelina exchanged confused glances. Okay, thought George, there is definitely a story here, and he immediately made a mental note to ask Ron about it later.

George took it upon himself to change the subject. "So, Ron, Hermione," he started, causing the couple stop staring at each other and pay attention to the conversation, "we never really heard what happened on your little adventure with Harry, and I, for one, would rather like to know what happened." Angelina quickly nodded her agreement.

Ron sighed thoughtfully, with a quick glance toward Hermione. "Well… it was pretty eventful," he began. "Or parts of it were," Ron amended his statement with a quiet laugh.

Seeing George and Angelina's confused looks at Ron, Hermione clarified. "We spent an awful lot of time camping. We've probably been to every forest in Britain." She shook her head, smiling. "It doesn't sound too bad now, but at the time it was pretty depressing. We didn't know what we were doing, we didn't have enough food, and we had a hard time keeping our spirits up, even without the stupid—" Hermione stopped herself, and she and Ron exchanged glances.

"The stupid what?" asked Angelina curiously.

"Never mind," Ron cut in. "It doesn't matter."

Once again, George and Angelina looked at each other, confused.

Clearly wanting to draw attention away from what Hermione had said, Ron began talking again. "Yeah, the camping was pretty bad, but we did some pretty cool stuff, looking back on it. We broke into the Ministry using Puking Pastilles and Polyjuice Potion."

George grinned proudly at the mention of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes sweet.

"Why'd you need to get into the Ministry?" Angelina questioned.

"Umbridge had something we needed. Something to help us defeat Voldemort." Hermione answered evasively, but Angelina and George knew now not the press Ron and Hermione for information.

"Well, did it work?" asked George.

"Somehow, it did actually. And we helped a bunch of muggle-borns escape too," said Ron, proudly.

"But," Hermione interrupted, "we did let Yaxley into Grimmauld Place."

Ron's face fell a little, and George frowned. Death Eaters in Grimmauld Place. The thought was unnerving. george knew neither Harry nor Sirius would have been too thrilled about Death Eaters invading the house.

"What's Grimmauld Place?" Angelina was glancing from George to Ron to Hermione in rapid succession, evidently unsure of why Ron and George cared about whatever it was Hermione was taking about.

"Oh," Hermione explained, "it was Sirius Black's house. Harry's house now actually, as Sirius left it to him."

Angelina still looked a little puzzled, so George turned to her and quietly said he'd tell her more about it later. Then he turned to Ron and Hermione. "Keep going! What else did you do?"

Ron thought for a moment. "Well, we visited Xenophilius Lovegood's house. He's a nutter if ever there was one. He tried to get us captured by Death Eaters. I mean, they took Luna from him, but still. He could have at least tried to help. But then, oh yeah, we got caught by a bunch of Snatchers, Death Eaters really: Greyback was with them." Ron glared at the ground at the thought of his oldest brother's attacker from the previous year. George, naturally, had a similar reaction.

Hermione stroked Ron's arm gently to calm him as she took over the story. "They took us to Malfoy Manor because they thought Harry might have been Harry. They couldn't tell for sure since I'd hexed him so his face swelled up. The Snatchers weren't really able to see his scar."

"That's really quick thinking, Hermione." Angelina grinned.

"Quick thinking? It was bloody brilliant." Ron exclaimed staring admiringly at Hermione, who blushed slightly.

"Well, anyway," Hermione continued with a small smile, "they took us to Malfoy Manor even though they weren't sure, partly because they thought they might have recognized me, partly because they knew Ron was a Weasley, but mostly because if it was me, and that Weasley was Ron, then the third one of us had to be Harry, and Harry had a ten thousand galleon price on his head. But we got to the Manor and they tried to get Draco to help identify us –"

George snarled at the ground, while Ron rolled his eyes and scoffed.

Hermione held up her hands to stop the brothers. "Draco actually didn't do a thing," she began to explain to George. "I'm sure he recognized us, but he didn't give us away. He was scared to death with his family all around expecting him to give us away, and he just stayed out of it. I mean, I don't like him, but I can't hate him either."

Predictably, Ron argued with this assessment. "So what if he didn't give us away? Fat lot of good that did us! And then during the Battle, we saved his life, twice, mind you, and how does he repay us? He's a bloody coward who goes back to the Death Eaters and begs, 'I'm on your side!' It's disgusting." Ron sneered in disgust, and George nodded his agreement.

Hermione was about to make an angry retort when Angelina interrupted. "Guys, come on. Does it really matter what you all think of Draco Malfoy? Is he really something to fight over?" Ron and Hermione stared at the ground sheepishly. "I thought so." Angelina looked smug. "Now Hermione, keep going."

Hermione calmed herself. "Yes, well, Draco didn't identify us, but Lucius Malfoy decided he did. But then they saw we had the sword of Godric Gryffindor, which I'm not going to explain to you at all because that's a terribly long story, and I don't want to go into it," Hermione said hurriedly, "but basically it was supposed to be in the Lestrange's Gringotts vault, but we had it. Bellatrix was worried, and so she decided to…" Hermione broke off and looked down, clearly upset.

Ron put his arm around her shoulders comfortingly. "Bellatrix tortured her. They locked Harry and I in the basement, and that monster tortured her." Ron was growing angry just saying the words. "And I couldn't help her." Ron was now talking more to himself than to George or Angelina.

"You did help me though," said Hermione looking up at her boyfriend. "I could hear you screaming my name, and it helped. I knew I had to survive; I knew I could survive, for you."

Ron embraced his girlfriend, and they cried quietly together for a moment, with Ron whispering comfortingly in Hermione's ear.

Angelina coughed subtly, breaking the couple apart. 'I'm really proud of you two," she smiled, "but how did you guys get out of there? The suspense is killing me."

The four friends laughed, but Ron and Hermione's faces fell. "It was Dobby," said Ron solemnly. "He got us all out of there, and he took us to Bill and Fleur's, safe and sound. But… Dobby wasn't so lucky. Bellatrix threw a knife at him, and he… he…" Ron looked at the ground.

"Dobby? The mad little house elf that went and saw Harry to warn him about the Chamber of Secrets? The one that worked at Hogwarts after he'd been freed? Why was he there?" George asked, confused.

Hermione answered him, "Aberforth sent him to us. Thank Merlin he did too, or we probably wouldn't be here now. But he was so good… he didn't deserve that…" She stared at the ground too.

George thought of Fred. "No one deserved to die in this war." He spoke deliberately, checking his emotions. "Not Dobby, not Lupin or Tonks, not Sirius, not Dumbledore, not… Fred." George had to stop. Angelina rubbed his arm to let him know she was there for him. He didn't burst into tears or leave the room this time though. He sighed deeply and looked up to face Angelina, Hermione, and Ron who were looking at him with sadness and concern etched into their faces. He took another shuddering breath and forced his mouth into a smile. "So you went to Bill and Fleur's?"

Hermione was a little surprised at George's quick recovery, especially after George's breakdown earlier, but she took it in stride and continued after only the briefest pause. "Yes, they were pretty surprised to see us there. I didn't look so good, Ron wouldn't answer questions, and Harry had poor Dobby, plus we'd picked up a goblin, Luna, Ollivander, and Dean by that time too."

"Ollivander? The wandmaker? And Luna and Dean? What?" Angelina wasn't having the easiest time following Ron and Hermione's adventures.

"Yeah." Hermione laughed good naturedly at Angelina's confusion. "Ollivander and Luna were imprisoned in the Malfoy's basement, and Dean and the goblin were with the Snatchers when they got us."

Angelina nodded her understanding.

"Well, after we got to Shell Cottage," Hermione continued, "we couldn't really tell Bill and Fleur anything, which annoyed them both quiet a bit, but we left soon enough. Then we broke into Gringotts."

"I heard about that!" George exclaimed excitedly. "Then you escaped on a dragon, right?"

The couple nodded, Hermione, incredulously, as though she still couldn't quite believe they'd actually done that, and Ron, excitedly, as though it had been brilliant.

"It'll be a great story to tell the grandkids," Ron laughed, nudging Hermione, who smiled into her lap.

"I would ask you why you had to break into Gringotts, but I don't suppose you can really tell me that can you?" Angelina laughed.

"Yeah... We can't really say anything." Hermione half-smiled apologetically. "There was something we had to get from the Lestrange's vault, so that's what we did."

"And then we went to Hogsmeade, met Aberforth, got into the castle, went to the Chamber of Secrets, and then it was the Battle, and that's it." Ron finished lamely.

"Wait… you went to the Chamber of Secrets?" Angelina asked, half in awe and half confused. "How did you know how to get there? And what was down there that was so important?"

Ron laughed. "Well we needed basilisk fangs, don't ask, and I'd gone there with Harry and that nutter Lockhart in our second year, so I knew how to get in. As for actually getting in, you know Harry can speak Parseltongue, I just imitated him, and it opened for me."

"It was absolutely brilliant!" Hermione gave Ron the same admiring look he'd given her earlier. Ron looked very pleased.

George and Angelina smiled at the couple. "Anything else interesting happen?" George asked.

Ron looked sheepishly at Hermione who shook her head. "Not really. Oh, well, Harry and I almost got killed by Voldemort's giant snake in Godric's Hollow, but other than that…"

"Getting almost killed by a giant snake doesn't really count as anything? Really?" George looked at Hermione incredulously.

Hermione laughed. "Well, we got away fine, except Harry's wand broke. He fixed it later though, so really it's not too big a deal."

Angelina, however, looked thoughtful. "You said you and Harry almost got killed, but what about Ron?"

Ron shrunk back in his seat. He seemed to be disappointed with himself.

Hermione, conversely, sat up higher in her seat, and offered Ron a loving glance. "Ron wasn't there." She ended it at that and was clearly not leaving any room for questions. Ron looked at her gratefully. George made another mental note to ask Ron about this at some point in the future too.

During the slightly awkward silence that followed, Angelina looked up at the clock. "Merlin! It's getting late! Alicia will be wondering where I am. I should get home."

Hermione, following Angelina's lead, glanced up at the clock, and she, too, was shocked by how late it had gotten. "My parents are probably getting worried! I meant to leave ages ago. I have to go too."

The four friends stood up and made their way from the sitting room through the kitchen and out to the yard where Angelina and Hermione could apparate home.

When they reached the gate, Hermione stopped, quickly hugged Angelina and George, and turned to say goodbye to Ron. Angelina and George politely looked away from the couple and instead said their own goodbyes.

"So I'll see you tomorrow, Weasley?" Angelina asked in a jovial tone.

"I guess so," George answered, with mock-annoyance, looking up and smiling quickly to assure Angelina that he'd been joking, though she'd already known he was.

"Wait…" she said suddenly, "you're going to work on the joke shop with Ron tomorrow though, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah." George had almost forgotten. "Er… well come in the evening tomorrow instead of the afternoon. Ron and I'll be finished for the day by then. You can stay for dinner, of course."

Angelina smiled. "Alright then. It's settled."

George grinned widely at Angelina for a moment. Suddenly he realized that he needed to thank her for today. It had been the best day he'd had in a while, and it was all Angelina's doing. He wanted to thank her; no, he needed to thank her.

"Angelina," he started, emotion evident in his voice, "I just need… to thank you. For today. For everything. I owe you so much. I…" George couldn't say anymore.

Angelina understood. She stepped closer to her ginger-haired friend and enveloped him in a hug. "You're welcome," she whispered, "and thank you for today too. I had so much fun with you; today's been almost perfect."

George pulled away. "Almost perfect?" he asked, his eyebrows raised, an amused expression playing on his face.

Angelina's lips curved into a joking smile. "Almost."

At this, she turned to Hermione and Ron and hugged them both. After facing George again and kissing his cheek quickly, Angelina he took a step back and turned on the spot. With a crack, she was gone.

Hermione apparated away moments later, after a last wave to George and a last kiss for Ron, leaving the Weasley brothers alone in the yard.

"So it's been a pretty fun day, hasn't it little bro?" George grinned at his younger brother.

Ron nodded, looking a little dazed from Hermione's last kiss.

George shook his head at his brother as the two walked back inside to the sitting room.

"I think I'll head up to bed," Ron called, stifling a yawn as he walked to the stairs. "Night, George!"

"Night, Ron! Remember, we're heading to the joke shop bright and early tomorrow morning!" George laughed.

Ron chuckled in response. "I remember. Night!" he called as he walked up to his room at the very top of the house.

George looked around the empty sitting room thinking about what he had been doing only half a day ago. He'd been brooding. He was afraid of his own joke shop. He hadn't even thought about Quidditch in days. George shook his head. He'd come a long way today. It's all Angelina, he thought to himself for seemingly the millionth time, there's something about that girl. Again George shook his head as he walked up to his room.

Outside his parents' room, George stopped to listen at the door. For the past week, he'd stopped here every night, and every night he'd heard his mum crying. But as George listened at his parent's door he heard something different: his mother was laughing. George stared at the door as if it was lying, but the sound behind it was quite clear. His mum was laughing at something his dad was saying. It was just like before the Battle. Slowly a smile arrived on George's face, and he crept away from his parents' door up to his room.

As George got ready to go to sleep, the sound of his mother's laughter kept floating back into his head: it was such a beautiful noise. He was so happy for her. He knew she'd been hurting, but this was a sign. She was healing. They all were healing.

George got into his bed as he looked across the room to the bed opposite his own. For the past week, the sight of Fred's empty bed had been too much for George, but on this night George thought about was his mother's laughter instead. Her laughter helped to fill the void George always felt when he looked at the place where his twin had slept. But even as he though of his mum, thoughts of Fred floated back into his head, and George took a shuttering breath.

All of a sudden, George had an idea. Maybe it could help… He took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and began speaking in a soft voice, just above a whisper. "Hey Fred. It's George. Well I guess you already know that. Er… I miss you. A lot. It's weird down here without you. You have no idea how different everything is now. Well maybe you do. I'm not sure you can even hear me. But I think you can." George, realizing he was starting to ramble a bit, switched over to an actual topic. "I played Quidditch today. First time in ages! The wind was perfect, and it was almost like being back on the actual Quidditch pitch. Only with apples instead of balls. And no snitch. You would have loved it. You always did love it. Ron and I destroyed Angelina. She's so high and mighty since she's on the Harpies, but Ron and I got her. It was brilliant!" George stopped sharply as tears started to well up in his eyes and run down his face. He smiled sadly at the memory of the Quidditch victory: his victory without Fred.

Despite the tears dripping down his face, George continued, "And then there's the joke shop. We're reopening it in a week. Ron's helping me. I would have never thought of him to help out, but he's really excited. Angelina asked him if he'd like to, and he said he would. We'll start tomorrow, and there'll be a big reopening event. It'll be huge! I couldn't do it without Ron though. He's being really helpful now, probably just showing off for Hermione. Did you know they're together? I won the bet! They got together right after they'd seen us, but it was still after! The next time I see you, you owe me ten galleons." George began crying openly, taking care that he wasn't getting too loud.

"But I just want you to know that even though Ron's my partner now, I'm not replacing you. I could never, ever replace you. You're my other half Freddy; I can't bear not having you here. The only reason I'm doing okay at all is Angelina: she's a miracle worker, that girl. The best friend I could ever have. Besides you, obviously." George laughed through his tears.

"Mum's doing okay too, actually. I heard her laugh about fifteen minutes ago. She never laughs anymore." Immediately George realized it sounded bitter, as though he was mad at Fred for his mother's sadness. Quickly, he clarified his statement. "I'm not blaming you, Freddy. It's not your fault you had to… go." George couldn't bring himself to say plainly that Fred had died, particularly as he was talking to his departed brother. "Percy told me, by the way, that you were laughing... when it happened. It's fitting. Very fitting." George paused for a moment, gauging his next words.

"Fred," he said finally, "I miss you. More than anything. Every second I feel like there's this hole inside me where you should be, and I don't know how to fix it. You're my brother. My best friend. I don't know if I can deal with this. But I try, every day, for you. I know you wouldn't want me to be sad like this. You'd tell me I was a Weasley twin and that I should smile and laugh and enjoy myself. Hopefully I'll be able to, but it's hard. It is nice to talk to you, even though you can't say anything back really." George had stopped crying, and he wiped the tears from his face.

"Well, I should sleep. I have a joke shop to fix up in the morning." He laughed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. I miss you, Fred. Goodnight." George waited for a moment, as if expecting to hear a response, but there was only silence.

With a sigh, George slipped under the covers, and, within a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

A/N: I hope you liked it! Please leave a review!