New story! Yay! This one I might actually update because I have been thinking about it a lot and have lots of great ideas. Here it comes.

"I don't see why I have to go" George complained as he pulled the black jacket onto his shoulders. "You and Angelina can go and leave me here. Fred, I'm not going to…I'll be okay." Even the word dead reminded him of her, lying motionless on the ground at the death eater's feet.

"Twin, you need to get out of this slump okay?" Fred pulled on an identical leather jacket to match his brother. "Alicia would want it."

"Don't talk about her, you don't understand."

"C'mon George, you'll meet someone and have a great time okay?" they had gotten to that uncomfortable place again. George new what it was like to loose someone, Fred did not. Somehow he was glad of that. "Look, just come for me." He ended the discussion.

At a wizard dance club

George swirled the olive in his martini again. He had not drunk any of it anyway. Alcohol was no kind of solution; he had already tried drunkenness to forget about her. "A dry martini please," a voice said next to him as a girl in a red dress sat on the stool beside him. Her short dirty blond hair framed her face nicely but her dark eyes looked empty and sad. "Hey," she said spotting George.

"Hey," he replied meekly. He looked down into his glass, the same drink she had just ordered, and swirled the olive again.

"You looked like you've been dragged here too." She commented lazily, swirling her own olive. He glanced at her and then stared darkly back the clear liquid in his glass.

"He wanted me out of the house," George motioned towards Fred who was twirling Angelina, for lack of a better word, ungracefully, across the dance floor. She nodded her eyes stared blankly at her stilettos. "He said I'd been mourning her long enough," he continued placing his martini back on the bar and reaching in his pocket to pay the bill. Then remembering he had already paid, turning to go toward the door.

"Mourning who?" she barely said, the music was so loud he was not sure he had heard her. "Mourning who?" she repeated her voice rising in pitch. Her breathing began to become labored as if she had lost someone too.

"Alicia, my fiancée" he choked out finally before heading towards the door. She paid the bartender quickly from her black clutch purse and followed him out. "Wait," she whispered once the pounding beat of the club music could no longer be heard. "I lost my fiancé too."

George stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at her his eyes darkening in something between fury and desire. He was attracted to her, and the idea of wanting an other woman made him feel unfaithful, yet she seemed to have been flirting with him despite the loss evident in her eyes. Suddenly he found himself asking "do you want to grab a cup of coffee?"

Her eyes lit up and a slight smile crested her face. "Yeah, I know a place around here." She took his hand, leading the way. George followed, his skin heating up at her touch, he could feel she was hot also, even though the air was getting the chill of night.

later

He sat staring at her over the rim of his mug. Running a hand through his hair he said, almost a whisper, over the quiet hum of the music, "my name's George."

"Meg," she replied shaking the bangs out of her eyes and blowing on her steaming latte once more before taking a sip. "George of tri-W?" she asked, referring to the joke shop that now had three locations. Posters of him and Fred were plastered over the windows of shops in Hogsmeade and Diagon alley.

"Yeah, George Weasley, joker extraordinaire" he breathed, sipping his pumpkin spiced café au lait. "You have a last name?" he cocked his head to one side, feeling his mouth move into a lopsided grin.

"Laney," her dark eyes glistened with tears "would have been Graden on November first if not for that Son of a Bitch!" her voice rose as the words exited her mouth exploding like bombs as they hit the air.

George could feel his eyes tear up too. "My mum would have been so happy; we would have been pregnant by now." He felt a tear slip down his cheek but brushed it away, hoping she hadn't seen it.

"Yeah, Alicia you said?"

"Yep, what was his name?"

"Dave, Dave Graden. We buried him on the day after Valentines." She began to cry and George found himself pulling her into his lap.

"Let's go back to my place," he apparated them back to the flat above the Diagon alley store. They collapsed onto the couch, both sobbing quietly.