Although the War was over, the Weasleys still maintained the magical defenses around the Burrow. For that reason, Harry, Ron and Hermione had Apparated a hundred yards from the entrance, just where the shield around the house ended.

Mr. Weasley was waiting for them in the middle of the unkempt garden, also dressed in elegant black robes. He greeted them warmly, hugging them one by one, but Harry could see the stiffness in his smile. Strange and forced, it looked as if his face had forgotten how to do it. His heart shrank at the thought, and he was suddenly aware of the weight of the Stone in his pocket.

Arthur motioned for them to follow him, and Harry glanced around. Dozens of Weasleys scattered around the garden were talking quietly amongst themselves, some sitting at the tables that had been set up for the occasion. Mr. Weasley led them towards the house at a fast pace, nodding when they came across a group of people but not stopping to chat. Swallowing, Harry remembered Bill and Fleur's wedding and how those same tables had been filled with smiling people eager to eat, dance and celebrate the occasion. He could feel his head spinning, just by thinking about how quickly things had changed. There would be a meal and a ceremony that day too, but it would have nothing to do with the happiness and joy of a wedding.

Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them inside the house, also dressed in black robes and matching dark circles under her eyes. She hugged Ron and Hermione, and then did the same to Harry.

"Hi, sweetheart, how are you?"

Hearing that affection and warmth in her voice, after everything that had happened, was too much for Harry. He blinked rapidly a couple of times before answering.

"I'm... er... I'm fine. I'm... I'm managing." He added, more honestly. "Little by little Mrs. Weasley."

Molly smiled at him, pain in her eyes, and started patting his cheek.

"Harry, darling. With all we've been through... You know you can call us Molly and Arthur, right?"

The boy nodded, he was aware, but it felt odd to change their names after so long. Still, he was right.

"I know. Thank you, er... Molly."

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him again, giving him those pats again. Pam, pam, pam.

"Good boy." She said. Like she said to her children. Like she used to say to Fred. Like Lily would have said to him if she were still alive. The weight of the Stone increased a little more.

"Harry." Arthur called to him, snapping him out of his stupor. "The others are upstairs. Ron and Hermione just went up, if you want to go too."

The boy nodded.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Weasley. Arthur." He added to Molly's watchful gaze. "I'll be right up."

He waved goodbye and started going up the stairs that led to the upper floors of the Burrow. He passed Fred and George's room, with the resulting twinge of pain in his chest, and continued walking until he reached Ron's room. He could hear the sound of voices coming from it. Bill and Charlie, accompanied by Ron and Hermione, were inside. He approached the doorway and, upon seeing him, the two brothers greeted him with welcoming expressions. Once the greetings were over, Harry looked around and realized that some of the siblings were missing. He was about to open his mouth to ask about it when Bill, who had caught his glance, said:

"If you're looking for the others, Ginny went the bathroom, George is in the garden, and Percy went to get the last of the Weasley's relatives."

"They have been having trouble at the border." Added Charlie, "People are still nervous after the War, and the Ministry doesn't want to risk Death Eaters getting in or out of the country. It's been a bit chaotic, but it should be sorted by now. It shouldn't take long for them to be here."

Harry nodded, grateful for the explanation.

A few seconds passed in silence until he realized that the room looked different. He hadn't seen it when he had first walked in, but now that he noticed, it was obvious. Next to him, Ron also seemed to have seen it because he turned in Charlie's direction and said:

"I see you've been staying in my room."

The walls were still covered with his Chudley Cannons posters, but the rest of his things were gone, replaced by his brother's belongings. Dragon encyclopaedias and books in Romanian lined the shelves and Ron could see a fireproof cloak hanging on the coat rack. He had seen Charlie dressed in it on more than one occasion.

Yes..." Said his brother. "Ginny got mine when I moved to Romania and Bill is sharing his with Fleur. You were at Hogwarts, so..."

Ron nodded. In other times he might have been angry, but after what had happened, things like that were unimportant.

Bill misunderstood his silence.

"Don't worry, we didn't throw anything away. Mum has put all your stuff in the cupboards." He said. "I helped her create an extension charm on them so everything would fit."

"Thank you." The boy replied in a quiet voice. He had slept in that room all his life, but without his things, he almost had trouble recognizing it as his own. Or perhaps the reason was something else. Between the search for the Horcruxes and the War, he hadn't been in the house for almost a year. It was still home, but it felt different. It felt strange to be there. Too much had changed. Especially him. He was not the same person who had grown up, played, and laughed within those walls.

"I didn't know you had already arrived." Ginny's voice from down the corridor startled him. Ron turned and there stood his sister, her long red hair standing out against the black of her robes.

"We just did." Hermione said, coming over to give her a hug which the girl returned. "How are you, Ginny?"

"Tired, actually. It hasn't been an easy few days..."

"I imagine..." Hermione said, pulling away to make room for Ron. The boy walked over to greet his sister.

"What about you guys? How are things at Hogwarts?"

"Strange." He acknowledged. "They seem to be getting better one day and worse the next.

Ginny nodded.

"I hear you. It's been pretty much the same here..."

After those words, the girl turned to look at Harry. It had been less than two weeks since they had last been in the same room together, but, seeing her, the boy's heart began to pound, suddenly realising how much he had missed her.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hi..."

She reached out to hug him, and when she did, Harry had to remind himself that they were surrounded by people. As much as he wanted to hold her in his arms and never let her go again, this wasn't the time or place for it. They could make up for lost time in the future. So, summoning all his willpower, he took half a step back, leaving a little space between them. Ginny smiled at him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, causing his heartbeat to quicken even more.

"Ahem..." Ron coughed, though with less awkwardness than he usually showed. "Can you explain to me a bit what the... schedule is, shall we say. I've seen there are tables in the garden, so I'm guessing there's going to be a big meal, right?"

Bill sighed.

"Yeah... Keeping the Weasley tradition, Mum and Dad decided that before the funeral they were going to have a meal with all the relatives. They've been preparing it for days. I tried to reason with them, tell them it wasn't necessary. That we could have the ceremony without having to feed several dozen people..." Bill shook his head, showing how well that conversation had gone. "But, as you can see, they didn't listen to me. I suppose keeping busy helps them... But honestly, it seems a bit much to me."

Ginny snorted, showing her disapproval.

"Same here... And it's not just the food. It's also the fact that there are so many people. Fred wouldn't care about any of these Weasleys who don't even know his name. It should have been just us. Close family and friends."

Charlie bit his lip, showing some discomfort.

"Come on, don't be like that... They may not have known Fred very well, but they've come to pay their respects. And to support mum and dad. There are some relatives that they were pretty close to years ago, even if we don't know them. Dad has told me that they went to live in other countries and that's why they lost touch a bit. But they have come from far away to try to cheer them up. We should be grateful."

Ginny sighed in frustration, but then looked down.

"Looking at it like that..." She didn't finish the sentence because, although she understood what her brother was saying, she would have liked things to be different.

"Look," Charlie told her seriously, "I understand that having to do this with so many people isn't easy. It feels more like a show than something intimate and ours, doesn't it? But it also makes you realise how loved Fred is. As well as our family. Not everyone has a funeral so full of people."

Ginny bit her lip.

"I understand what you mean... But at the same time, I would have preferred something more private. And as for the food... How can we eat when we're going to…?" She swallowed, trying to keep her composure. "...When we're going to bury Fred in a few hours?"

Those words came down on everyone hard. They knew what was going to happen during that afternoon but thinking about it like that was painful.

"Ginny..." Bill interjected. "I know it seems like a very final thing, ¿doesn't it? It seems like once we've done it, there's not going to be anything after. There's no going back. But that's not true. Today doesn't change anything. It's a formality and something we have to do to begin to accept it. But we can have a thousand ceremonies for Fred if that's what you want. Just us. Where there is food or where there isn't."

The girl listened to those words, nodding slowly.

"I'd like that. Something smaller. Just us. His family and friends. And there should... There should be fireworks." She smiled, with her gaze lost somewhere on the wall. "The kind he loved so much. And there should be music. And butterbeer. And laughter. And-" Her voice broke, and a few tears ran free down her cheeks.

Harry, who had been listening to her intently, heartbroken, stroked her back with his hand, trying to show his support. Seconds passed, the silence in the room broken only by the girl's sniffles and hard breathing. Slowly, partly thanks to the warmth of Harry's hand on her back, Ginny regained her composure.

"It's all right." She told them, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. "It's not the first time I've cried today, and it won't be the last... It is what it is. And it would be strange not to do it."

Bill, who had moved closer until he was standing in front of his sister, smiled sadly at her.

"You're right, Ginny. And we have to get it out. No point in keeping it hidden inside. Otherwise, it gets stuck, okay?" He said, looking into her eyes until she nodded. "Right. And that goes for all of us, eh? We didn't survive this bloody war to end up rotten inside."

Bill's words echoed in the room, his serious voice and solemn expression causing the others to nod as well, accepting them. The boy was exercising his role as big brother, using his authority and experience.

"Right." Bill continued. "Are you a bit better?"

Ginny nodded, her eyes slightly red, but calmer.

"All right." Bill continued. "Then I'm going to go downstairs and see if Mum and Dad need help with anything. I don't know if the rest of you want to come too..."

"I do. I'll come with you." Charlie told him, getting up from the bed he was sitting on.

Harry had opened his mouth to answer when Ginny grabbed his hand.

"I wanted to talk to you for a second, if you don't mind."

The boy looked at her for a moment, surprised, but then nodded.

"Of course not. We can talk for as long as you want."

Ginny smiled sweetly at him and then turned her attention to Ron and Hermione, as Bill and Charlie left the room.

"We'll be in my room, then." She told them. "I'll just be a few minutes, are you two going to be alright on your own?"

Hermione nodded.

"Don't worry about us, Ginny. We'll find something to do, won't we?"

Ron smiled at her.

"That's right. I'd like to check the cupboards, see if it's true that none of my things have been thrown out."

That was going to be a waste of time, Ron was sure of it. He was aware that his brothers wouldn't have thrown anything without asking first and he knew that, most certainly, he would find every single one of his belongings inside the drawers. The problem was that he needed to keep busy until lunchtime and that was a good distraction.

"Go, really." Hermione said to Ginny and Harry, who were still standing in the doorway. "I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about."

Ginny thanked her with a nod and then gently tugged Harry to come with her. The boy followed her, walking down the corridors of the Burrow and remembering other times together with her, under that same roof. Happier times.

They reached her room, and she sat down on the bed, gesturing for him to do the same. Harry did so, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his legs over the sheets.

"So... what did you want to talk about?" He asked. He could feel Ginny's knee next to his. The warmth it exuded.

"I... Several things, actually. First, I wanted to know how you were doing. And also, how these past few weeks at Hogwarts have been going."

Harry breathed in, not knowing where to start.

"Let's see... I'm feeling probably the same way that you are. Strange, tired, and sad. Exhausted, even though there's not much going on. But, at the same time, having the feeling that everything is changing at an incredible speed. And that makes me a bit dizzy. Does that make sense?"

"It does." She told him. "Because I feel the exact same way.

Harry smiled. That was one of his favorite things about his relationship with Ginny, how they understood each other.

"I'm also a bit confused about not having to think about fighting anyone." Continued the boy. "I'm not used to living without being in constant tension."

"I hear you... I still carry my wand with me all the time. Even in the shower or when I go to the bathroom. I don't feel calm if I don't have it within arm's reach."

Harry nodded.

"I know what you mean."

"It's so unfair that we have to feel this way..." She sighed wearily. Then she shook her head, pushing the feeling away. "Changing the subject, how did it go with Snape? Dad told me he had woken up."

Harry knew that Mr. Weasley must have heard the news from Ron. They were still trying to keep Snape's survival a secret, at least until the professor was feeling a little better, and there weren't that many people at Hogwarts who were aware of what had happened.

"It went well. More than well, actually. I have gone to talk to him every day and... He has been helping me a great deal."

"In what way?"

"With the War. Everything it's left me with. My emotions, the traumas, all that. I know it's hard to believe, but... He's changed. I don't know if it's because Voldemort's gone or because we understand each other better now, but... He's been helping me." He repeated. "I know it might sound weird, but..."

"Not at all." Ginny told him. "I mean, if I think of Snape as the bat of the dungeons, I can't imagine him being particularly kind and patient with anything to do with emotions. But with the new information about his past... What you said about him being friends with your mother and loving her... Then I totally get it. I'd want to take care of and protect your son too if you weren't around, Harry. Even if he wasn't mine. Even if he wasn't mine. He would still be a part of you."

The boy looked into her eyes, touched by those words, and also surprised by the comparison. He had never thought about his situation with Snape in that way. He imagined himself twenty years in the future, protecting Ginny's son with another man. He added to the mix the fact that this other man was his enemy and that both he and Ginny had died in part because of Harry. His head began to hurt just thinking about it, but he also understood Snape a little better.

"I hope it doesn't happen." He said finally.

"Me too." She smiled. "But tell me a bit more about Snape. Now I'm intrigued."

Harry swallowed.

"If you want, I can tell you all about it. But it'll be a bit of a long story..."

"Don't worry about that, we still have time until they call us for lunch. And I like listening to you talk."

The boy smiled. Then he cleared his throat and began to explain to her what had happened during the last few weeks. He told her about the moment Snape opened his eyes, about that first conversation and how they had come to a certain cordiality. His voice trembled a little as he described what had happened in Hagrid's hut, how much the funeral had frightened him, and how Snape had been patient with him. How he had listened to him and helped him manage his emotions, how he had conjured the Patronus to comfort him and keep him calm. Harry's face broke into a smile as he remembered the feel of the doe in his arms, conveying his mother's love to him. Finally, he explained that Snape had told him that he needed to talk to his friends, tell them what had happened and use the support and understanding that only they could provide. The only thing Harry kept to himself was that last conversation about the Stone. He was a bit surer of what he wanted to do, but he still needed to talk to the other Weasleys before he didn't have any doubt.

"And that's it..." Harry finished.

"Not bad." Ginny said, taking in all that new information.

"What do you think?"

"Honestly? I'm happy for you. I never would have thought Snape would be able to help you like this, but I'm glad he is. And not just for you. But most of all, for him.

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and settled against Harry, resting her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his head to place a kiss on her red hair. He smelled her perfume, and his mind took him back to the happiest months of his life, during his sixth year, when he and Ginny had been together. So much had changed since then, but Harry wished with all his being that he could recapture the feelings and magic of those days.

"I mean, you have us, Harry." Ginny explained, snapping him out of those thoughts. "So many people who love you and care about you. But Snape is alone. He has been all his life from what you tell me. Until now." She smiled. "So, I'm really happy for him. You're helping him to open up, Harry. To have that support he was telling you about."

The boy tilted his head.

"Maybe you're right... But I don't really know if that's what he wants, though. Sometimes I get the feeling he'd rather I leave him alone so he can be on his own.

"That's like when Mom says she doesn't need help doing the dishes. It's just a facade. If you insist a bit or start cleaning with her, you can see the gratitude on her face." Ginny smiled. "I'm sure it's the same with Snape."

"I hope you're right. Because he doesn't deserve to be alone. Not after all he's been through."

"I like that you think so." Ginny told her honestly. "That even with everything that's happened... You still care about others."

The girl sat up and turned, so she could look him in the face. Harry's heart began to pound as he saw the intensity in her dark eyes. After a few seconds, her gaze dropped to his lips, and Harry instinctively crossed the distance between them. The kiss began slowly, tentatively, but gradually deepened. Both of them put into it all the sadness and pain they carried inside, but also the affection and love they had for each other. That passion that had not been extinguished even after so many months away from one another. When they finally separated a few centimeters, still holding each other and leaning their foreheads together, they were both breathing heavily, and their cheeks were tinged with red.

"I've missed you so much." Harry whispered. The pain was still inside him, but moments like that anchored him in reality, reminding him how beautiful it could be to be alive.

"Me too." Ginny told him, swallowing and trying to catch her breath. "Actually, this was something else I wanted to talk about. Though I seem to have already gotten my answer." She said with a small smile. "I wanted to ask you if you had thought about us."

Harry nodded and stroked her cheek with sparkling eyes.

"I've thought about us a lot. I think I've made that clear." His cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn't look down as he said it.

"Yes, I think you have."

Harry smiled at her, giving her another kiss, though this one was a quick and sweet one.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here these past few days." He told her suddenly, unable to contain himself. The words had come out of his mouth without even thinking them. Now that he had her in front of him, the guilt had surfaced again. "I'm sorry that I've left you alone when you needed it most."

She looked at him in confusion.

"What? Come on, Harry, don't say such things..."

"But it's the truth." He said firmly. "You needed support and I... I haven't been up to the task."

"Harry..."

"It's the truth." He repeated. "I wasn't able to deal with certain things. I couldn't. But now I can. I feel stronger. And I won't hide again, I promise. I'll be there when you need me."

Ginny took his hand in hers.

"Harry, listen to me carefully. I appreciate what you're saying. But you don't have to apologize. Listen to me." She repeated as she saw that he wanted to retort. "We're all feeling like shit. Maybe you needed space and to 'hide', as you say, so you wouldn't have to think about certain things. So what? It's normal. We're all trying to manage this as best we can. And I'm never going to blame you or get mad at you for it."

"Ginny..."

"You think I'm doing any better? I'm irritable, everything annoys me. I get angry for no reason. I've had more fights with Mum in these last few days than I had the rest of my life. I find her insufferable when she talks to me. My own mother..." She shook his head. "And when I go to sleep, I think about all this and feel guilty... But then the next day I do it all over again."

Harry didn't know what to say to make her feel better, so he hugged her even tighter.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. It's so unfair that you have to go through all this..."

"Yes. But it is what it is. But I'm trying to be better, you know?" She told him. "When I feel like I'm filling up with anger and I'm going to explode, I leave the room and try to tone down the anger. It works sometimes. Other I just start crying. That helps, too, though."

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I don't know what to say or what to do."

"You don't have to say or do anything. Time just has to pass. And we have to learn to live in this new reality."

Harry nodded, though he remained silent.

"At least I'm glad to hear that you're doing a little better, Harry. It's important that you notice some evolution... If you weren't..." She shook her head. "If you weren't you'd be like George."

"Merlin... Is he still the same as when you left Hogwarts?"

She nodded wearily.

"Yes... He hardly speaks and it's hard for him to look you in the face. He eats when Mum puts a plate in front of him and goes to bed when we do... But I don't know if he sleeps, judging by those huge dark circles under his eyes. And he spends his days in the garden, where we used to play Quidditch."

Harry listened to those words with concern on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny. Is he there now? In the garden?"

The girl nodded.

"Yes, he was there the last time I looked."

She carefully separated herself from Harry and walked over to the window, pulling back the curtains. From the bed, the boy could see the backyard of the Burrow. The area where he had played Quidditch with the Weasleys during so many summers was still there, but several rows of chairs had been placed on it. In front of the seats was a brown coffin and Harry's stomach turned at the sight of it. Sitting in one of the chairs closest to the casket was a red-haired figure Harry recognized instantly. George.

"He's been sitting in that chair every day since we got back from Hogwarts. He only moves to go to the toilet, eat and sleep. Mum had to convince him to take a shower and change his clothes. I can't tell you what it took to get him into his black robes this morning..." Ginny sighed, exhausted, as Harry got out of bed.

The Stone in his pocket grew even heavier. The boy wondered how he was able to stand with that weight on him.

"Do you think... Do you think I could go and talk to him before the funeral?" He asked Ginny with a dry throat.

She was silent for a few moments, watching him.

"Sure, Harry." She said finally. "I'm sure he'd like to see you."

The boy nodded.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Actually, I wanted to go see my parents. Ask them if I could help them with anything." She said. "But if you need me to, I'll come with you."

Harry shook his head.

"Don't worry, I can do it alone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah. Really."

"Okay." Ginny said. "I'll see you in a bit then." She leaned in for a quick kiss and Harry kissed her back, though his mind was focused on what he had to do next.

Ginny left the room and Harry followed her down the stairs to the Burrow's kitchen. Molly was there, conversing quietly with Bill and pointing her wand at a tray full of food. Actually, Harry noticed, the countertops and the kitchen table were full of them, filled with different dishes. From the looks of it, the spell Mrs. Weasley was applying was keeping the food in perfect, just-cooked condition. Harry could see the smoke from the stew petrified in the air, frozen in time. In another situation he would probably have stopped to ask her about it, full of curiosity. At that moment, however, he had more important things to do. And so, he nodded goodbye to Ginny and left the room, closing the entrance door behind him.

---

He walked at a fast pace towards where George was sitting, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. He was about ten meters away from the chairs when, at the sight of the coffin, his legs stopped working. He was suddenly aware that the wooden box was not only that, but that inside it there was Fred's lifeless body. He swallowed, realizing that his mouth was dry. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the casket was still there, its presence unavoidable. His hands began to shake, and Harry tried with all his might to remember his conversations with Snape, how he had managed to calm him down. But with the coffin only a few feet away from him it was proving difficult to concentrate on anything but his racing heart and the lack of oxygen in his lungs.

"Harry." The murmur came from somewhere close to his right and, while it didn't completely snap him out of that shock, it was enough to distract him and allow him to take a big breath of fresh air. Thanks to it, Harry was able to clear his head a little and realize that it was George who had spoken to him.

The boy was still staring at the coffin, but his head was turned slightly in his direction. The sight of him sitting there, with those dark circles under his eyes and that empty expression, stirred something in Harry. George needed him and he couldn't afford to let his own fears get the better of him. He had to be strong for his friend. So, he approached carefully and sat down in the chair next to him, facing the coffin.

"Hello, George, how are you?" He asked carefully.

The expression on the boy's face didn't change.

"I'm fine, Harry."

The boy nodded, though he obviously didn't believe those words at all. A few seconds passed in silence as Harry searched his head for something to say that would wake the boy up. He knew that nothing could bring the old George back, but all Harry wanted was to see a glimpse of the smiling, cheerful boy he used to be. To make sure that he hadn't died with Fred.

"They will bury him here, you know." George said suddenly, startling him. "Right here."

Harry looked up at him and could see the biggest pain in his eyes. His gaze was still locked on the coffin, as if his eyes could pierce the wood and see the body lying in it. His brother's body. His twin. His other half.

"We used to play Quidditch here, remember, Harry?" George continued, in a whisper. "Every summer when we came back from Hogwarts. And before that, when we were little. We learned to play Quidditch here." His lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We used Bill and Charlie's old brooms, and Mum was so worried... We were so young, you know? And she suffered for us. But she didn't have to. We had each other's back. We made sure the other wouldn't get hurt. No more than a few scratches, at least." Tears had started to fall down Harry's face, but he didn't say anything. He didn't want to interrupt him. "We protected each other, you know? If he fell off the broom, I was there to catch him. And he did the same for me... Yeah..." He whispered. "He did the same for me..."

George's voice trailed off, as the knot in Harry's stomach tightened even more. He wiped the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. He desperately wanted to help him. To do or say something that would make him feel better. But there was only one thing he could do. Something that, in the whole world, only Harry could give him. He put his right hand in his pocket and squeezed the Stone tightly, before taking a deep breath and saying:

"George, I know there's nothing I can say to make this better. But... could you answer me one question?"

The boy shrugged and Harry took that as an indication to continue.

"I... I wanted to ask you if...if being able to talk to Fred, say goodbye to him, would help you a bit."

George blinked slightly, the only sign that he had heard Harry's words, but the boy could see how his hands had begun to shake.

"It would help." He said, with longing in his voice. "But that's impossible. There is no magic capable of bringing back the dead." His face returned to a mask of impassivity, void of the emotions that had filled it a few seconds ago.

Harry bit his lip. He had noticed that change. The thought of Fred, of being able to talk to him again, had awakened something in the boy.

"You're right. There's nothing that can bring them back to life. But... I heard a rumor once. The existence of an object that made it possible to see them again, to talk to them." He said cautiously, avoiding telling the whole truth. "And I thought it would help me, personally, to be able talk to my parents. Or Sirius. Saying goodbye to them, you know?"

Something other than the pain and emptiness that had plagued George's face for days appeared on the boy's features.

"I wish I could do it." He whispered, trying not to show how much he wanted it. "Being able to talk to him one more time. Tell him that... That I'm sorry I couldn't protect him... So sorry…" George blinked and a tear fell onto his lap, wetting his hands. Feeling the humidity on his skin surprised him. He brought his left hand up to his eye level, staring at the small drop with curiosity. It was the first time he had cried in days. "But this is nothing but a fantasy. It's never going to happen." His face had hardened, pushing away that glimmer of hope. "There's no point in thinking about it.

Harry, who had watched the scene with mixed emotions, nodded.

"Maybe…"

George said nothing, focusing his attention on the coffin again. The impassivity had returned to his features.

"It was nice talking to you." Harry told him anyway, rising from his seat. "I'm going to see if your parents need any help. See you later, George."

The boy nodded slightly but didn't even look in his direction as Harry walked away from him, deep in thought. Using the Stone might affect the Weasleys, and he was sure it wouldn't be easy for them to let Fred go a second time, but the alternative was even worse. He didn't want to live out the rest of his days knowing that he could have done something to remedy George's empty face and blank stare, but he hadn't. If there was a chance, however small, of making things better, Harry had to take the risk. Not just for the boy, but for the rest of the family. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had the right to be able to say goodbye to their son, as did Ginny, Ron, and the other siblings. If they needed to talk to Fred to be able to start healing, he was going to offer them that opportunity.

Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed the Stone once more, feeling the hard edges against his palm. Then he started walking towards the Burrow, with determination in his features.