The sounds of the Burrow return to silence at night.
Molly sat in the kitchen, watching as the broom and dishes finished up the last bit of the house cleaning. The sweater that she was knitting in the corner was almost finished as well and the plump woman was pleased to know that she was going to be able to sleep soon. Or rather, try to. Molly Weasley had not been able to sleep the past few weeks given the circumstances and recent tragedies. She was completely drained and spent most of her time knitting countless clothes that she would then send to Charlie, Harry, or Hermione. Once the broom finished sweeping, it placed itself in the corner of the room. Feeling that it was time to sleep, Molly slowly ascended off of the chair that she was currently sitting on. With a soft grunt, she moved away from the seat and looked at the reflection of herself in the window facing the field outside of the burrow.
"Oh," She jumped at the sight of herself. Her hair was knotted and sat in unkept tangles around her plump face, and her clothes were disheveled and askew.
"Mum?" Mrs. Weasley turned around to see George standing beside the Weasley's family clock.
The plump redheaded mother took in a sharp breath before casting her eyes down. Her fingers began to fumble between each other and shake. "Oh, Georgie. Did I wake you?" She hustled her way around her son. "I'm sorry. Just go to bed and-"
"Mum," She stopped. "You can't look me in the face.. Can you?" Molly wringed her hands, shaking her head several times. There was a moment of seilence before the clock rang loudly, causing both of the redheads downstairs to jump.
"George, we really should get to bed," Mrs. Weasley started, "It's already eight o' clock and tomorrow we have to wake up early and tidy up for Harry." She turned toward her son and placed her hand on his upper arm to usher him upstairs. Her eyes were still staring at his feet. She couldn't bring herself to stare at his face, especially not with the absence of Fred. They were too identical and, until now, she wasn't able to ever tell them apart.
"Mum, look at my face," George commanded. "Why can't you look at me?" There was a pain in his voice that struck a tender chord in his mother's heart.
"Now - now you know I can't do that," She sputtered, eyelids shutting and voice rattling.
"Why not?" Her son pleaded.
"You know why, George!" Mrs. Weasley's voice escalated, "I can't bring myself to do it so dont-"
"Why can't you look at me!" George cried.
"Because you look too much like your brother!" Molly yelled back. She finally looked at her son. His eyes were watering at the brim and his ears were burning red at the tips. As quickly as she looked at her son, she turned away. "You and F - your brother looked exactly the same. Exactly, George. It's not like I can just look at you after - " She began to wring her hands again. "You're asking too much of me right now, especially after all that's happened."
"But, mum, if you looked you'd see we were different," George pleaded. "It's not fair that I have to suffer because he's gone." Mrs. Weasley began to moved towards the stairs. "Mum.. Please." Pausing, Mrs. Weasley hesitated. She shifted over once before looking up at her son. George took in a deep breath as his mother's eyes grazed over the features of his face. He had more freckles than Fred and they covered more of his cheek bones, rathen than dressing his entire face. His hair line was higher than his brother's and his nostrils were a bit wider. Molly's hand went to cover her lips. George's lips were thinner than Fred's and crow's feet and laugh lines seemed to be permenantly etched in the features of his face. She couldn't help but wonder how distinct the lines in Fred's face were.
"Oh, Georgie," Mrs. Weasley sighed. voice quivering with emotion. Her eyes watered themselves as she went to embrace her towering son. "I'm so sorry." She mumbled as the tears came down. "I've been rejecting you because you two shared the same face."
"It's okay, Mum," George said, sniffing slightly.
"No, it's not George," Mrs. Weasley said, shaking her head and pulling away from her son. She wiped at her tears. "I have been rejecting you and you don't deserve it." She galnced at the clock before smiling. "What would your brother say to all this nonsense I've been causing?"
"Probably something like," George cleared his throat, "Mum, you're favoring George! Why do you only not pay attention to him?" Molly gave a small laugh before clearing his throat.
"Alright," She said, waving her hands forward at her son, "Off to bed now. Harry's coming over and we have to clean."
"Does this mean I have double the chores since Fred's gone?" George sighed.
"George!" Mrs. Weasley hit her son on his bicep.
I don't really know if I captured the feeling that was behind this scene, but I think I did a... decent job. I don't like the way that this chapter came out so I think that I might rewrite it. Review please!