Okay, this is my first fanfic ever. I'm pretty excited, I hope you like it, but even if you don't thats ok too just be nice to me please. I've had this story in my head for the longest time, and now its finally on paper. Or uhh...screen. lol. anyway...

I don't own Harry Potter, obviously.

Arthur Weasley was sitting on the side of his bed, looking at an old picture on his nightstand. It was of the twins, Fred and George, when they were just five years old. They were standing side by side, holding their new toy broomsticks. Arthur's eyes filled with fresh tears at the old photograph of his twin sons, they looked so...happy. He willed himself not to cry again, he had to be strong for his family. It wasn't supposed to be like this, they were supposed to all be home now, all nine Weasleys plus Harry and Hermione, celebrating the end of the war, not mourning the death of a son, a brother, a twin. Arthur's heart reached out for his fifth son, he had been thinking a lot about how much George had been through in the last year. First losing his ear, and now losing his twin, his best friend, and other half. Arthur was worried about George, he wondered if he would be eventually be okay, he wondered if any of them would be okay.

As he sat there, listening to his wife's wracking sobs, crying over the loss of one of her children, her little boy, Arthur decided that he couldn't sit here any longer. It was too much for him to take, listening to his Molly's agony, he had to get away. He bent over, gave his wife a kiss on the cheek, and with one more fleeting glance at the picture of the twins, he walked out of his bedroom door, down the stairs, and out the back door. He wasn't intending on going anywhere, so he just sat on the back porch steps, gazing up at the stars. He felt a fresh stab of pain, as he wondered where Fred was now. Was he looking down on them, laughing, as he so often did in life, at his family as they mourned the loss of him? It gave Arthur the tiniest beam of hope, to know that his son could be in a far better place than the one he had recently left. Yet, he needed him here. Fred had so much going for him, so much more life to live, and he was never going to live it. Arthur blamed himself, he was supposed to protect his children, he was their father after all, and he had failed. Before the last battle at Hogwarts, he swore to himself that he wasn't going to let anything happen to family.

As Arthur sat there, outside of the home that he had raised his seven children in, he started reminiscing about the memories that had been made here, when he all of his children were safe, before the war. With new pain and guilt, he remembered a certain little red-haired twin, coming to him in the middle of the night.

It was very late, had to be past midnight, on a hot summer night, in 1983. Everyone was in bed, except for Arthur. He had come home late that night from work, there had been 9 raids at the ministry. He sat in his old armchair, reading the Daily Prophet, absentmindedly thinking about how his wife, Molly would be angry with him the following morning. She was always getting irritated with Arthur when he returnded home so late. He heard a small voice from the bottom of the stairs.

"Daddy" ? said a five-year old Fred.

"Yeah, George"?

" I'm Fred, Daddy".

"Oh, sorry, kiddo, I don't have my glasses on. What are you doing up?"

" I can't sleep."

" And why is that?"

" I'm scared. There's a monster under my bed. What if he gets me? What if he gets George? Daddy, you have to go get rid of him! Daddy!- "

-"Woah , son, calm down. I'm sure there isn't a monster under your bed", Athur said calmy, as he picked up his son and sat him on his lap.

" You don't have anything to be scared about, there's nothing in this house that will hurt you."

"What about the ghoul in the attic?! Huh?" demanded Fred.

"Well that's why he's up in the attic, son. So he can't hurt anyone. Don't worry about him."

"Well then, what about You Know Who?" challenged Fred.

Arthur's expression softened a little at the mention of You Know Who. He did not want his five-year old son to have to be worried about things as dark as that.

" Fred, I told you You Know Who went away almost two years ago, he is not coming back, to hurt you or anybody else. You know that don't you?"

" I guess so." said Fred.

"Good", said Arthur, kissing the top of the little boy's head. " Now get back up to bed, and even if he does come back, I won't let anything happen to you."

"Promise?" asked Fred.

"I promise."

Wow, ok so depressing ending, sorry. I'm actually surprised I wrote this story in like a half an hour. If you are a real Harry Potter fan, you'll review.P But be nice, it's my first fic and I don't expect to be the greatest writer sinced sliced bread.