George sat down heavily at the kitchen table, yawning. Ron was already there, eating toast and flipping through the Daily Prophet. Grabbing a muffin, George opened the letter he had received a few minutes ago and read:


George-


I just got back from France an hour ago. It was amazing! We got to go to a Quidditch game, France against Japan. Japan won, of course, 250 to 30. It was pretty great game.


Have you come up with any new products for the shop? I think I’ll stop by tomorrow. I’d like to buy a puffskein.


I should warn you—I did my Christmas shopping in France, and your gift turned out sort of weird. You’ll understand in a week!


I almost forgot the point of this letter. I thought of another good Fred moment. Remember how he asked me to the Yule Ball—yelled it across the common room? If I hadn’t decided the day before that I liked him, I never would have said yes. Anyway, that’s just typical Fred. And like you said, we need more than just pranks to talk about at his memorial service.


See you tomorrow, I hope!
Angelina Johnson


Breakfast finished, George hurried to his old bedroom, which he had reclaimed for Christmas, and hunted down a battered green notebook. About two months ago, he had come up with the idea of having a memorial service for Fred on the anniversary of his death. Angelina was helping him come up with stories to share at the service. So far, they had recorded around forty entries in this notebook, ranging from amazing pranks to Quidditch triumphs to joke shop discoveries.


After scribbling down Angelina’s most recent idea, George headed back downstairs, a slight lump in his throat.


“Oh, there you are, dear,� his mother said cheerily when he reentered to kitchen. “I wanted to ask you something.�


“What about?� George asked forcing himself to smile. Ron had disappeared, leaving the newspaper open to a picture of Kingsley Shacklebolt giving a speech.


“Well, I noticed that you’ve been keeping your hair rather short lately and wondered if you might consider growing it out,� she suggested lightly.


“Why?� George said, surprised. This seemed extremely out of character, since both Bill and Charlie had been regularly threatened with baldness in years past.


“I thought that you might look a bit neater if you could cover up your missing ear,� explained his mother carefully, stirring a pot of soup.


“I’m leaving my hair the way it is,� George nearly yelled, hurrying out the front door and up the hill. Reaching the orchard, he collapsed to the ground, burying his head in his hands. He was trying hard not to cry, running his hand over the hole in the side of his head. That ear was gone; the other was alone, just like he was alone, Fred gone… gone forever….


He viciously wiped his tears away. The idea of hiding his missing ear felt so wrong. It just seemed right to keep it visible, as a reminder of the sacrifices his brother and so many others had made. To hide it would be like forgetting that he had ever had a twin named Fred.


George drifted back to his last day with Fred, Battle of Hogwarts notwithstanding. They had been sitting in Aunt Muriel’s back room, discussing the newest batch of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes advertisements. George had wanted to use the photo where his good ear faced the camera, but Fred insisted on the one that clearly displayed the hole in his head. They had argued for a few minutes before Fred said seriously, “Be proud of your deformity. You lost the ear fighting for a better world, so you should never hide it.� George had never answered, because they had been called to Hogwarts right after Fred’s speech.


Now he had not only lost his ear but his twin in pursuit of a happier world. Things were considerably better now, but it had been at a great cost. It seemed like the only way to keep himself from wishing that he was dead like Fred was remembering what his brother had said so many months ago and knowing that he would never want George dead.

---

“…And that’s why I’m proud of this ear, or lack of it,� George finished. He returned to his seat next to Angelina, wiping away tears. Angelina gave him a watery smile. Behind them, George’s mother was bawling into a handkerchief. Even his Great-Aunt Muriel was crying.


Angelina jumped up and announced shakily, “There’s a buffet just down the hall to the left, if you’re interested.�


Everyone slowly got to their feet and started for the hallway. Lee Jordan paused on his way out, saying to George and Angelina, “That was…really great. You guys make a great team.�


“Yeah, I guess so,� George said, smiling at Angelina. She grinned back and pulled him towards the reception hall. Near the door, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped them. Hermione was crying, and the boys’ eyes were red.


“That last story…� Hermione gulped, wiping away a few tears, “your missing ear really means that much to you?�


“It does,� George confirmed, lightly touching the hole in his head. “It’s like… it’s as important to me as Ron.�


“Hey!� Ron objected, gently punching his brother in the arm.


“C’mon,� Angelina said. “Let’s stop crying and enjoy the food.�


George obeyed, but, just like every moment of every day for the past year, a small amount of his mind was still focused on his dead twin Fred. It always would be.