average human’s Reviews > Expecto Patronum > Status Update

Harry and George waited patiently for Fred to pull himself together, gratefully accepting the handkerchief that Harry offered him. A wet laugh escaping him when he saw the ‘STS’ embroidered in the corner.

Harry got up after Fred mopped up his face and opened the door, revealing a very surprised Ginny and forlorn looking Ron.

“Ron, mate, I’m—“

“What are you doing here?” Ginny acute Harry off in an acidic tone that got Fred and George to their feet.

“I—“ Harry looked over at the twins and took a small step away from the doorway. “I came to see you guys. I didn’t want to bother you yesterday, but—“

“You’ve got some nerve Harry,” Ginny hissed. “Our dad is gone, because of you!”

“What?” Harry reeled back, physically recoiling from the heat in Ginny’s voice.

“How d’you work that out?” Fred demanded.

“He’s evil Fred!” Ginny shrieked, causing everyone to wince at the noise. “You heard Moody! Harry’s a- a curse!”

“No I’m not,” Harry said quietly, sending Ron a beseeching look. “I don’t care what Moody said, I’m not fuckin evil.”

“And even if he was, it doesn’t mean he had anything to do with— with what happened,” George said loyally.

“DAD WAS THERE PROTECTING A PROPHECY ABOUT HARRY!” Ginny yelled, proving why it was a mistake to let her eavesdrop on Order meetings with them. “IF HARRY WAS DEAD THEN DAD WOULD STILL BE HERE!”

“Shut your stupid mouth about things you don’t understand,” Fred spat, pulling Harry behind him as he felt his small flinch at Ginny’s words.

What a thing to say.

“She’s wrong, but not really.” Ron finally spoke up, his voice quivering as he defended their sister. “Harry isn’t blameless in Dad’s d-death.”

“Thought Kingsley said it was a snake?” George said.

“Harry was in bed with me when it happened,” Fred said firmly, hoping to shut down the fight. “He didn’t do anything.”

“You’re just going to defend him?” Ginny demanded, her hands on her hips and her fire filled eyes looking glassy. “HE GOT OUR DAD KILLED FRED! And you’re in here cuddling him!”

Fred shifted a little, relieved to see George mimic his actions, putting themselves between their two heartbroken and furious siblings and Harry.

“Harry didn’t kill Dad,” Fred repeated. “Dad died on Dumbledore’s orders.”

“Dumbledore wouldn’t have made those orders if Harry had told him everything,” Ron said with a sharp glare at Harry.

“Careful Ron, you’re getting close to breaking a vow.” Harry squeezed himself between the twins to face his friend. “I know you’re upset, but don’t make this worse, yeah?”

“MAKE IT WORSE? MY DAD IS DEAD HARRY!” Ron screamed. “BECAUSE YOU DON’T TRUST ANYONE!”

“Because I don’t trust Dumbledore? You can’t be fuckin serious,” Harry scoffed. “You don’t trust him either!”

“Because you— you’ve poisoned him!” Ginny shrieked. “You’ve turned my brothers against our family!”

“Dumbledore is not our family,” George said. “Come off it Gin.”

“He’s done a damn sight more for us than Harry,” Ginny spat, which was such a ridiculous statement that it managed to make Fred huff out a laugh.

Dumbledore hadn’t done a damn thing for them. Dumbledore put their dad on guard duty for a prophecy that he couldn’t be bothered to check that it was even still there. Dumbledore got their dad killed. And if Fred wasn’t certain that Harry and Susan had plans on killing the old wizard, he’d do it himself. He still might.

“Suppose I should have left you in the Chamber then?” Harry said coolly. “Let your hero Dumbledore save your sorry arse?”

“You didn’t want to save her, you just wanted to kill the basilisk.” Ron swiped angrily at the tears on his cheeks. “You didn’t give a damn about her.”

“She called me a monster! Said she hated me! What the fuck was I supposed to do? Be her best friend?!”

“You cut Fred in the head for fun!” Ginny yelled. “You are a monster!”

Harry looked up at Fred uncertainly. “Was that you that I cut?”

“Sure was,” Fred told him with his best effort at a weak grin. “Think that was when I fell in love with you.”

“It was a duel Ginny,” George said with a level of calm that Fred certainly wasn’t capable of extending at the moment. “Pretty sure I sent a bunch of ice knives right at Harry’s chest that day.”

“You did. It was brill.”

“You should go,” Ginny said, switching her tactics pretty quickly now. “Nobody wants you here.”

“That’s not true,” Fred said hastily, loathe to give up the comfort that Harry’s quiet presence brought him. “I want him here.”

“WELL YOU DON’T BLOODY COUNT!” Ginny yelled, the tears in her eyes spilling over now.

“Maybe you should just go Harry,” Ron said quietly, but with a cold detachment that Fred knew had to be hurting Harry. “Leave our family alone for a while.”

Harry had his head cocked to the side and his eyes screwed up in confusion as he looked between Ron and Ginny. “You— I mean— I’m not bein’ a dick or anything, but you know this is technically my house, yeah? You can’t actually tell me to leave.”

Ginny, who apparently had some mad newfound courage and hatred of Harry pursed her lips like their mum. Ron just looked lost.

It was sad really. Fred wished they hadn’t decided right now to pick a fight with Harry. He wanted to comfort his siblings, but he needed to be comforted himself right now.

“It’s Sirius’ house,” Ginny finally said. “And he’s letting us stay here.”

“And Sirius made me his heir the day I was born,” Harry said slowly. “We share assets, don’t we? Which, seems like maybe you don’t know, but that includes this house.”

“Go away Gin,” Fred sighed, abruptly exhausted; mentally, emotionally, and physically. “Just— go downstairs with mum and the others.”

“That’s it then?” Ginny asked. “You’re just going to keep seeing him?”

“I’m bloody well gonna marry him too Ginny,” Fred blurted, mad as well as exhausted now. Who was Ginny to come questioning his relationship? Harry didn’t kill Dad.

“What the fuck?”

Fred really was tired.

He looked down at Harry, who was staring up at him in bewilderment.

“How’s Fred Potter sound?” Fred tried making his mad confession into a weak joke so as to not scare off his occasionally terribly skittish boyfriend. “Or you could be Harry Weasley if you want?”

Harry’s look of surprise slowly shifted in to a bashful smile. “We could hyphenate?” he offered. “Fred and Harry Potter-Weasley?”

Fred felt a swoop of joy in his stomach, immediately followed by a wrenching guilt for even feeling a bit of joy in the moment, and compensated for both emotions by hugging Harry to his side and burying his face in Harry’s hair.

“You’re a traitor,” Ginny hissed. Fred didn’t lift his face, he merely listened as his sister stormed away, followed by a much more slow and unsure Ron after a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly as soon as Ron and Ginny were gone. “Fred, George, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” George assured him. “They just—“ George swallowed down the lump of emotion in his throat. “They just need time mate. Ron’s upset, he didn’t mean those things.”

Fred kept his face buried until he heard George return to their room, closing the door softly behind him.

“Fred?”

Fred lifted his head to look down in Harry’s misery filled eyes.

“I love you,” Harry said softly. “Thought you should know.”

Fred knew it was a mad reaction, but he was suddenly overcome by a hysterical laugh. He quickly re-caught Harry in his arms once Harry began edging away from him.

“You have the worst bloody timing in history,” he said, struggling to control the inappropriate reaction that Harry’s confession brought on. “Just terrible Darlin.”

Harry’s mumbled apology was cut off by Fred’s desperate kiss. He clung to Harry, pouring his endless sadness in to his kiss, accepting back Harry’s outpouring of regret and sorrow.

“I love you so much,” Fred said, backing Harry to the wall to deepen the kiss. “I— I don’t know what I’d do without you Harry.”

“I’m not leaving,” Harry said steadily. “Not if you want me.”

“I’ll always want you,” Fred assured him, pushing their lips back together in a frenzy to just forget about everything else. Harry didn’t push him away, only wrapped his hands behind Fred’s neck and let him distract himself in their embrace.

Fred could have stayed there all day, forever really, never facing the reality that awaited him, but Harry’s godfather clearly had the same terrible timing that Harry did.

“Pup?” Sirius called up the stairs. “Harry? You up there?”

“I’ll stay if you want me to, but I think your family might be happier if I left,” Harry murmured as Fred groaned at the interruption.

“Yeah.” Fred took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “You should go darlin. I’m gonna...” he trailed off, not really sure what he should do.

“You should sleep.” Harry traced the bags beneath Fred’s eyes. “D’you want me to send over some Dreamless Sleep?”

“No.” Fred caught his hand and kissed the knuckles with overwhelming gratitude that this thoughtful and mad wizard was in his life. “I’ll be fine. Will you come back tomorrow, please?”

“Course.” Harry detangled himself from Fred’s embrace and gave him a small smile. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Fred assured him.

“Harry?!”

“Gotta go,” Harry told him. “I’ll be back tomorrow, get some sleep and... and just floo to my place if you need me sooner, kay?”

“Kay.”

Fred watched as Harry made his way down the stairs, taking the momentary peace Fred felt with him.

He let out a heavy sigh as he looked from his bedroom door to the doors that he knew Ron and Ginny were probably hidden behind. Fred wasn’t a selfish guy, not usually, but he decided that he would go lay down for a bit before trying to comfort his younger siblings. They could handle themselves for a couple hours without him.

Fred slipped back in his room, sharing a look with George, before collapsing face down on his bed.

“Freddie?”

“Yeah?”

“That thing you’re in, with Harry? That secret alliance? I want in.”

Fred picked his head up and read his twins determination through his blue eyes, identical to his own.

“I’ll tell Harry,” he said. “It’s not a game though.”

“Good.” George laid down on the side of Fred’s bed, unwilling to be far apart when they were both grieving so heavily. “Because I’m done with games.”

Fred nodded in understanding. The twins were of a single mind in that moment, every hand that had a part in the death of their dad would burn. No justice would bring back their dad, but they’d be damned if they didn’t dole it out regardless.



Time seemed to pass by in flashes the next few days.

Time spent with his family creeped by, determinedly forcing him to see his own misery reflected back by each member. His mother’s never ending tears and thick aura of depression. Bill’s attempts to help everyone, offering a shoulder to cry on and sharing stories about their dad with them. Fleur, quiet and unsure, dancing around the kitchen and making platters of baked goods that went mostly untouched. Charlie drinking himself in to an unreachable state, his eyes unseeing as he slumped in the recliner in the sitting room. Percy, absent. George hiding himself from everyone in their bedroom, crying out in the night when he was meant to be sleeping. Ron, usually accompanied by Malfoy (who Harry apparently gave their location to for Ron’s sake), wandering around the house like a ghost. Ron’s eyes were wide and filled with shadows of grief. Fred appreciated Malfoy more than ever during that time. Malfoy just walked with Ron, talking softly and forcing him to eat. Holding his hand steadily when Ron eventually slept fitfully on various pieces of furniture.

And Ginny. Ginny frantically pacing, furiously mumbling. Trading all her heartbreak for rage. Hating that their dad was gone. Hating that there was no bringing him back. Blaming all the wrong people.



Times when Harry snuck over, carefully avoiding the other Weasley’s, went by too quickly.

Harry was brilliant; quietly holding Fred and lending him strength as he cried and screamed and went on his own rants at the unfairness of the world. Harry also gently pressured him in to eating, bringing along Fred’s favorite snacks, and stroked his hair to keep him sane when he was plagued by memories of his dad while he slept.



“Will you be there tomorrow?” Fred whispered in the middle of the night, dreading the funeral that he would have to go to when morning came.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed. “I’ll be there.”



There wasn’t a dry eye, or a smiling face in the group of Weasley’s as they dressed the morning of their dads funeral.

It was cruel, burying their dad on Christmas Eve, the day they’d always spent together as a family. It was nearly ironic, in a truly terrible way.

Bill had pooled his resources to make sure that the boys all had new dress robes of respectable black. Fleur bought Ginny a traditional black dress. Apparently Fleur and Bill wanted to honor their dad in any way they could, starting with dressing their best. Fred thought that it would have honored Dad the truest if they’d worn muggle clothes, but nobody asked his opinion.

Lupin and Sirius were waiting downstairs with their mum, solemn and sad as they watched the Weasley kids troop in with their combed hair and heartbroken faces.

“You boys look so- so handsome,” their mum sniffled, patting them all on their cheeks. “And girls-“ she grabbed Ginny and Fleur’s hands in her own, “you look beautiful.”

“Love you mum,” Ginny said thickly. “Is it time?”

“It is,” Lupin said gently.

Fred’s head hung low as they floo’d to the Burrow. His mums wail of devastation, brought his attention to the clock that still hung on the wall. Seven hands were pointing at ‘home’, Percy’s said ‘traveling’, but the gold hand that was engraved with ‘Arthur’ was firmly pointing at ‘lost’.

Sirius caught their mum when her knees buckled and her sobs broke through. “I know,” he murmured softly to her. “I know.”

“C’mon,” Bill told the others. “Give mum some time. Let’s go to the church.”



Fred hardly noticed the cold that nipped at his skin as he followed the others to the St Catchpole Church. He ignored the crowds of well-wishers, keeping his head low and only nodding in response to what seemed like endless apologies.

‘I’m sorry for your loss’ wasn’t going to bring back his dad.

He paid a little more attention when Albus Bloody Dumbledore gently squeezed his hand.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said with a quiet sincerity. “Arthur was a good man. A loving father, a kind soul.”

“And now he’s dead,” Fred said flatly, glaring at Dumbledore with all the ferocity that he could muster. “Take your apologies and piss off.”

He heard a surprised gasp from one of his siblings in the line of Weasley’s, but he ignored it.

He knew who was responsible for his dads death, and it wasn’t Harry.

Dumbledore didn’t seem surprised by his words or tone, he simply nodded with a sense of calm that spiked Fred’s rage and moved on to Percy, who must have joined them at some point.

Fred accepted condolences from relatives, classmates, coworkers of his dads, Order members, and members of Harry’s alliance alongside his siblings. The faces, the words, fading in to an indistinguishable blur of noise and pitiful looks.

“Frederick.”

Fred picked his head up once more when Snape’s voice reached his ears, thankful that Harry stepped up beside him at the same time.

“Hullo sir,” Fred said dully, squeezing Harry’s small and calloused hand tightly. “Thanks for coming.”

“I regret it’s necessity,” Snape said. He briefly laid his hand on Fred’s shoulder. “Do not hesitate to reach out if there is anything I can do for you or your family.”

Fred just nodded and watched as Snape was replaced by Theo and Hermione, the latter of whom surprised him with a tight hug.

“We all care about you,” Hermione said softly. “You’re being so incredibly strong.”

Theo offered no condolences, no empty platitudes, just a gaze with steady eyes that reminded him that he too had lost his dad.

Bit different circumstances, if Fred’s guess about Nott Senior’s death was accurate, but still a shared experience nonetheless.

Harry stayed beside Fred as more of their friends came through the line. Luna, with a small and warm hug and large, teary eyes. Susan, with a brief hug and a whispered promise to help him when he was ready for revenge. Neville and his Gram, both offering apologies.

And on, and on, it went. Up until Lupin came up to the line of Weasley’s and murmured that it was time.

Fred turned to Harry in a sudden panic. “I can’t do it Harry.” His eyes flicked to the coffin in the front of the room, the coffin that held his dads body. The coffin he was meant to stand in front of and help carry to its final resting place. “I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t—“

“Fred.” Harry grabbed Fred’s face with his free hand and put a slight pressure on his jaw, not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to break his panic. “You can,” Harry whispered, his eyes unwavering as they stared deeply in to Fred’s. “You’re strong. This is going to fuckin suck, isn’t it? But your brothers are gonna be right beside you, I’ll be behind you. You can do this.”

Fred matched Harry’s breathing, slowly sucking air in before pushing it back out.

“I can do this,” he repeated quietly.

Harry gave him a gentle push to follow behind his family to the row of chairs in the front of the church.

I can do this.

Fred slipped in to his seat between George and Charlie.

I can do this.

Fred’s resolve wavered as the wizard overseeing the funeral got up and began speaking. The words were a buzz, indistinct as a whole, but small bits leaping out at him.

“Kind hearted.”

“Family man.”

“Proud father.”

“Loving husband.”

“No better wizard.”

Fred thought that while they were all true portrayals of the person his dad is was, they somehow felt impersonal. If he closed his eyes, blocked out the cries of his family, he could be at anyone’s funeral.

He could do it. Just pretend this nightmare was someone else’s life, not his. He would have too if he didn’t feel a gentle hand reach between the bars of his chair and lay on the middle of his back.

If Fred lived to be a thousand years old, he could never repay Harry for his silent and grounding presence during the funeral.

But even Harry couldn’t keep his tears at bay when his family trooped up together in a single file line to say goodbye one last time to their dad.

Charlie, in front of Fred, cried openly without shame as he looked inside the coffin that sent shivers down Fred’s spine.

I can do this.

“Together?” George whispered from behind him. Fred turned a grateful look to his brother and saw that his eyes were overflowing with the same tears that were obscuring Fred’s vision.

“Together.”

Fred and George walked up to the coffin, a single unit, and looked down at the man who gave them life and taught them how that life was meant to be lived.

Fred wiped his face on the stiff robe sleeves that suddenly felt suffocating so he could see his dad clearly one last time.

“It doesn’t even look like him,” George choked out. “Dad...”

Fred traced the smooth paleness of his dads face, attempting to memorize every freckle, consoling himself at the expression of peace, and wondering why it had to be him?



Why his dad?

Why now?

Why?



Later, Fred couldn’t describe the rest of the service. He didn’t remember carrying the coffin with George, Percy, Charlie, Bill, and Ron.

He didn’t remember the graveside words of the minister. Blocked out the conjured flowers that were placed on top of the coffin. Didn’t memorize the never ending hugs of the mourners.

He just thought about his dad.

Alone in the coffin.

Alone in the ground.

Ripped away from their family forever.



“I love you,” Harry said softly after most of the mourners disapparated from the graveyard.

“Forever?” Fred asked him with a desperate tenor to his voice. “You won’t leave me?”

He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, lose Harry along with his dad. He couldn’t lose anyone, ever again. The pain of this one irreplaceable loss was enough to rip his heart in two.

“Forever,” Harry said firmly. “You’re stuck with me, aren’t you?”