George though that making it through May 2nd meant he was home free. He thought he was better, he thought that with Hannah by his side he was unstoppable. He had come to terms with being what you might call friends with Draco fucking Malfoy. He was on top of the world, and he was sure nothing could pull him down.

He was so fucking sure, until the anniversary of Fred's funeral.

He woke up to an empty bed, Hannah had gone to work early, leaving a draft in her place. The one morning when he was sure he needed her more than anything else, she was gone. He shouldn't blame her; she didn't know the day. They had both been so sure that the storm had passed after May 2nd.

With a great effort he rolled over and groaned. He told himself he should get up and go to work, but he couldn't bear it. His body ached and his heart was heavy. He could imagine the funeral, the number of people that patted him on the shoulder and the pity they had all offered him. He hadn't wanted any of their pity, he had just wanted his brother back. While he hadn't shed any tears that day, when they lowered him into the ground his whole world had shattered.

The world was ending all over again.

He couldn't believe he hadn't talked to Fred's painting at the event. He knew it wouldn't be the same, and he had been a bit distracted by other matters at hand, but that was the problem wasn't it. He was distracted from his own brother, his best friend, and the one person who had really understood him.

When Ron had first attacked him, he had been indignant, sure that being friends with Malfoy was important to overcoming the prejudices that had been formed long before he was born, but now he wasn't so sure.

What would Fred think? Would he agree or would he be just as angry as Ron had been? The pit in his stomach sunk lower. Not only that but he was dating a girl, who Malfoy would have wanted to kill little over a year ago. Was Ron, right? Had George pinned the execution notice to her door and led her to the guillotine. He might as well pull the rope too, clap with the crowd while her blood stained the sidewalk.

NO! He would never, he wasn't, he couldn't. She had been friends with him first, and she had been fine long before he showed up, amazing even. They had lived together, she had helped him, and he had helped her. If Malfoy had wanted to kill her, he would have done it long before George came along. She was safe, he would protect her before he would ever hurt her.

George allowed himself to relax a little through the sadness, but then sorrow turned to rage as an evil thought wriggled its way into his mind.

Had she loved him? Malfoy said he loved Sloane, but had she just been an accident along the way of a different tragic love story? Malfoy had killed for her, would he do that for someone he didn't love in return? Had they ever drifted around each other while cleaning up late at night, fingers ghosted as they washed and dried the mugs? Had their eyes met and then had she let him kiss her? His mind drifted further and before he could put a stop to it, he could picture them in bed, rolling around beneath sheets while she made noises that he had once felt lucky enough to hold privately within his memory.

She would have told him.

He sat up, slamming his fist into the wall as he stalked towards the bathroom. He had reinstalled the mirror a few weeks ago, but now it seemed like a foolish idea. Fred was staring back at him, so disappointed George threw up in the sink. Wiping his lips, he returned his gaze to the exhausted looking face in the mirror. If he imagined an ear where the was none and put on a big smile it would have been the same picture they used at the funeral.

"What am I doing?" he muttered but no response came. "Fred, what the fuck am I doing?" he screamed but no response came. He yelled again, slamming his hands against the porcelain of the sink, knuckles turning white as he held it for support. With a sudden thrash of his body he punched the mirror. It shattered and his hand was bleeding, not that he could feel any of the wounds. It was so difficult to notice trivial things like pain when anger was so overpowering.

It felt wrong to be so angry, so lonely and numb when everywhere he turned there was love. He was loved by so many, but when only silence mixed with his heavy breathing, he had never felt more alone. Pain grabbed his heart and squeezed until he found himself sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom, drowning in thoughts that would have seemed impossible the night before. The disappointment Fred would feel, the sound of Malfoy and Hannah interlocked in something he couldn't understand, and the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to be sitting on his chest.

And that's where he remained until later that evening when Hannah opened the door. By the time she returned he had rehearsed, and rewritten, and scrapped everything he wanted to say. Fear had accused, but love had sacked the idea. Now all he was left with was anger, about both things that he couldn't control and things that he was not sure had even happened.

"George?" she called, and he stalked out of the bathroom, fists clenched by his side. She hadn't seen him yet, her head in the fridge as she put away the few groceries she had picked up after work. He tried to collect his thoughts, to decide what to say before she noticed him, but he wasn't fast enough. "Oh George, you look awful are you alright? Did something happen at work?"

"Did you ever shag Malfoy?" She flinched away as if he had slapped her, eyes wide at the accusation. He can't believe those were the words that had managed to push through everything he was feeling. A fleeting thought hours ago, and that's what he greeted her with.

"Excuse me?" He was going to apologize, but that's not what he ended up saying.

"You heard me. Did you ever shag Draco fucking Malfoy?"

"No, I never shagged Draco. And I never will shag Draco. Where is this coming from?" she approached him but he jerked away. That seemed to hurt her more than the accusation. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay."

"Come here, let me help you," she pleaded, hand outstretched in front of her. He pushed it away, turning to stare at the wall. "George, please." She rested her hand against his back, words soft and comforting, and rational George wanted to fall into her arms. Rational George was begging to cry and let her lead him to bed. Rational George fought tooth and nail against what happened next, but angry George easily tossed him to the side as he turned around, malice in his eyes.

"Stop trying to be him," he yelled but she only looked confused.

"Who?"

"Fred."

"I'm not trying to be," she replied, and she wasn't but that didn't stop him from laughing maliciously as he advanced, fists by his side.

"You'll never be as good as him."

"I'm not trying to be," she screamed in response, tears streaming down her face.

"You're just someone to make me feel loved, but you can't even manage that can you?"

"How can you say that?" she cried, vigorously wiping away tears as she tried to remain strong.

"Because it's true. You're never here when I need you, for all I know you're out with Malfoy, wishing you were Sloane while I'm stuck at home waiting for you." It was all bullshit, he didn't believe a word that came out of his mouth, but that didn't stop him from continuing. "And I'm sick of waiting."

"What are you saying?" she managed through the tears. Rational George screamed one more time, begging him to apologize but the wrong words were already out of his mouth.

"I'm telling you to get out." The world stopped, and while it had felt like it was ending earlier that morning, it seemed that was only a ruse. She burst into tears, falling to her knees in front of him. Rational George begged him to hold her, but he only watched stoically. He was so angry at the world that he couldn't bring himself to fight for her, especially when he was the enemy he was trying to defend her from.

"George-."

"I said, get out," he growled and with heavy steps she dragged herself away like a kicked puppy. She glanced over her shoulder one more time as she pulled open the door. A final plea rested on her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to beg when he was staring at her so coldly. He had never been so cold, always warmth, but it was hard to remember she had ever felt heat from him when he was staring at her like that. So, instead of begging, instead of crying, instead of refusing to leave she took the dreaded step into the hallway.

"You know where to find me." And then the door clicked shut. He stared at him, heavy breathing the only thing that filled the room as her sobs slowly disappeared from earshot. Then, the room turned into a rampage.

He flipped the table, allowing the remaining groceries to fly across the room and crumble into small heaps against the wall. Rational George and angry George worked as one as they mourned their loss. He flipped chairs, their legs burying into the drywall before falling to the ground with a clatter.

He swiped dishes from the counter and to the floor, not even bothering to wait for the satisfaction of hearing them shatter against the floor. He ripped a cabinet from the wall and hurled it away. He marched towards the bathroom and ripped the shelf from the wall. Products fell to the floor, shattering upon impact. The nails left holes in the wall, but they paled in comparison to the one his fist left as he screamed.

He marched towards the door. He was going to go after her. He was going to pull her into his arms and beg for forgiveness. He was going to, no force on the earth could stop him, except the wave of self-hatred that washed over him the moment he touched the doorknob.

Why would she want him back?

He had thrown her out without an ounce of remorse, accused her of sleeping with a friend without proof, and told her she would never be enough. No one in their right mind would take him back. If he was her he would never want to see him again.

His hand fell fromthe door and he fell to his bed, eyes squeezed shut. Tears leaked from thecorners of his eyes as he lay there, half in bed, half out. He was no betterthan he had been that morning, sad and wishing that the love of his life waslaying beside him.