Incomplete: Part 2

Incomplete Part 2: 18 Years Later

     “Fred Weasley the Second!” Alicia Weasley screamed. “You get your arse over here right now!”

     “Merlin, do you have to be that loud?” George asked her, snaking an arm around her waist and pretending to wince painfully at the decibels pounding into his only ear left.

     “Yeah, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Angelina Jordan purred. “George was just kidding—joking, as usual. Wasn’t he, darling?” she turned her head around to look for her husband. “Lee?”

     George grinned. “Probably gone to promote our merchandise. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes with Jordan’s Joke Shop. Seems to be doing well, eh?”

     “George,” Alicia snapped. “Will you please get Fred over here? He keeps on running off with those joke things you give him. Honestly, he’s really inherited your flare for ‘funny pranks’. Just like Fred your brother, he is,” she nodded to the direction of their son, who didn’t seem to be paying attention and didn’t seem to care that his mother was yelling at him.

     George smiled…a little sadly. The memory of Frederick Weasley was still clear in his mind. He had named his son after his lost twin, and had carried on the business, living his life to it’s fullest, making sure it was enough for the both of them. He lived for the life Fred never had.

     Angelina had hurried off to find her husband in the crowded Platform. They were all waiting for the Hogwarts Express to take leave, but arriving early, they waited around, chatting happily to nearby friends.

     Even though his son was in near view, George couldn’t hear what he was saying to his friends. So he he slipped in a few of the new Extendable Expandable Ears and gave another to Alicia. This new version allowed you to direct the required place, not having to snake them around. Just point to the required place, and the noise there would be magnified. No strings for a plus. And they expanded to fit into your ear, like George’s, which was just a hole now. Well one of them, at any rate.

     “Guys!” came the voice of little Fred, who was just starting his Second Year. “Look what I got! The latest from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes! Here’re the Stomach Sores, the Leg Lurches, and the new Skiving Snackboxes, version 17.2! It’s not even released yet, and I got ‘em a week earlier!”

     George smiled at Alicia, who rolled her eyes.

     “Aw…gee, Fred,” came the voice of Odi Wood. “Filch’ll have you for sure this time.”

     Fred let out a laugh, so familiar to the one George had heard everyday, eighteen years earlier. “That’s not a problem,” the child exclaimed gleefully. “I already have a full drawer dedicated to me. See, right next to Dad and Uncle Fred—who I was named after. Got a real reputation, being son of George Weasley! Plus, old Filch will be too busy looking after Addington. And so will Madam Pince, meaning the library will be free as well!” Fred pretended to retch, if the sound he was making was any indication. “I can’t believe they got married. I can’t wait to see what Addington looks like. I wonder if he’s a squib?”

     Odi sighed. “You shouldn’t be saying that Freddie.”

     “What?” Fred seemed disappointed. Then he patted his friend’s shoulder sympathetically. “It’s alright, Odi, we won’t get kicked off the Quidditch team. Okay, we’re not on it yet, but we’ll surely get picked. Especially you! Son of Oliver Wood, one of the best Captains Gryffindor’s ever had! Well, Harry Potter could’ve given him a run for his money! But Harry’s not a quidditch player now, is he? Working for the Ministry in the Aurors Department…”

     Angelina returned, looking flustered. “Lee’s gone to—” she started, but George cut her off and put a finger to his lips. She leaned in to listen with Alicia.

     “…anyways,” Fred was saying, “how’s your Dad doing at Puddlemere United? I heard he got promoted Captain again! You guys should come over for dinner sometime. The Burrow isn’t that small anymore y’know. We’ve expanded it all out!” he put his arms out to show how big it was now. “Grandma Molly makes the best food ever…”

     The sound died as George plucked out his Extendable Expandable Ears. Alicia shook her head, but was smiling. She took out her Ears as well. “He’s really picked up from you!” she squealed, pinched George’s remaining ear.

     “OW!” he yelled. “Watch it, woman, I only have one left!” and he began to tickle Alicia, until she was crying from laughter.

     Angelina shook her head at the two, acting like babies. “I’ll see you guys later, okay? I gotta go find Alastor…honestly, my son. He’s disappeared again, just like my husband!” she sighed, exasperated. “He never took after Mad-Eye…like his namesake. Takes after Lee, just like Freddie. I wonder where he is…if he’s not with Fred…” And after a wide smile, she slipped off into the crowd at Platform nine-and-three-quarters.

     No sooner had Angelina disappeared, a little redheaded boy pranced over to them.

     “Mum! Dad! Alastor wants to get some ideas from you of what we can do at school this year! And he wants to know more secret passageways,” Fred asked, making big puppy-dog eyes. Unlike the former Fred and George, Fred the Second had inherited the hazel brown eyes. Like Ginny’s. The twins’ were both a sky blue. Even if all the Weasleys had flaming red hair, not all of them had the same eye colour. Well, it was probably for the better, or little Fred would’ve reminded them too much of the loss they had all suffered on that night.

     His mother rolled her eyes. “I’ll leave you two boys. Honestly, men…I’m off to find Fleur. She said she’d be here with Victoire…” and she hurried out of sight, disappearing into the crowd, just like the others.

     George turned to his son, who bore a striking resemblance to his father, meaning his Uncle too.

     “Fred…if I tell you some more secrets of Hogwarts, promise you won’t go running into some real trouble, okay?” he put on a stern expression.

     “Yup. I promise,” said Fred, his excited little voice lowering to a whisper. “C’mon! I already know about that one behind Gregory the Smarmy, and the one behind Uric the Oddball…and a hundred different ones. What new stuff can you give?” he eyed his father expectantly, then brightened. “Aw yeah, and Dad,” he lowered his voice even more. “Any new ideas? We already blew up a toilet. But it wasn’t that fun…the only thing was that ghost, Moaning Myrtle. When she shot out of the U-bend, she seemed to have taken a liking to Odin!”

     George laughed. “Moaning Myrtle? She likes nearly every boy. She spies on all the Prefects too, so if you’re ever a Prefect, make sure she’s not around if you’re in the bathroom.”

     His son scrunched his button nose. “Ew! Prefect? It’d take out all the fun in life.” Then he widened his eyes. “Did she spy on Uncle Percy?”

     George nodded grimly, in mock sadness. “Anyways…try this…” and he reached into his coat pocket, drawing out a light brown ball of what seemed to be solid goo. “It’s called a Forge Adapter. Forge after Fred and George, and it forges any food. You know, build, fake, et cetera. You just point your wand at it, say fabrica construere then point your wand at the piece of food you want it to copy. When the person eats it, it will stick to their teeth and won’t come off until they eat this,” and he pulled out another glob of clear substance out of his pocket. It was solid though, but changed shape as George molded it around. A bit like putty. “But it’s only a one time use thing, so make sure you pay attention to who you’re pranking. It’s not in store for months, so you’ll get the first taste of it!”

     “Thanks, Dad!” Fred cried happily and put the two substances into his pocket.

     Then the Hogwarts Express cried with it’s warning of leaving signal, and George gave his son a brief hug, who jogged off to find his friends—stopping on the way to say goodbye to Alicia as she strolled pass. She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek.

     “Stay safe. Don’t go near the Whomping Willow. Stay clear out of the Forbidden Forest,” she said to him. “And no more jokes! If I hear you’ve thrown any more owl poop on Filch’s head or—”

     “Great idea Mum! We’ve never done that before!” and Fred dashed under his mother’s arms, climbing aboard the train.

     Alicia sighed, then rolled her eyes. She turned around and walked over the George. They waved until the train took off and watched their son disappeared from view as the train rounded the corner.

     George let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and felt once more—though he knew it was stupid of him to do so—that another Fred had been torn away from him—out of his grasp.

     But with Alicia’s arm around his waist, George smiled contently, and he knew that little Freddie was safe, for what happened in the past was just that: the past.

     He had the whole future to think about.