Disclaimer: We know the drill. I don't own.

Just a drabble. Because I wanted it to be.

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It's there in the way that George sits, with his ankles touching somehow while his knees are a mile apart, and the way his nose crinkles when he laughs at Percy's idea of a joke (which is funny, because they're never funny). The way he tries to piece the shards together (because it's exactly what Fred would do—which is why George does it, but he won't admit that).

It's the way he whispers, "Wherever he is, mum, he's happy," when he catches her sobbing quietly as she folds laundry.

It's why Molly Weasley can't look at her son, and not think of his twin. And not think that maybe (just maybe) it shouldn't have been Fred.

What if it hadn't been Fred?