A/N: I hope you all enjoy! =]
D: I own nothing.
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A young man of seventeen was working feverishly at his Father's desk. It was near closing time and he had chores to do throughout the Shop. However, his mind was lost amongst his Father's back room.
A cauldron and assortment of potions were laid out before the young man, making his bright blue eyes shine and the wheels in his head turn. Questioning what concoction he would discover today, and if it would be a best seller in his Father's shop. (That was if his Father would allow it.) Biting his lower lip he began to pour the ingredients in. A dash of elf eye lashes, a touch of werewolf saliva, and a cup of dragon's blood. Taking out his wand, he started to stir. The potion began to alternate colors, causing the young man's heart to race, wondering what he has just invented.
The heat on the back of the youth's neck started to creep up and spread across his cheeks. He knew who was watching him and with those eyes. Those eyes that were like a window into the past, scrutinizing the young man like a knife. Knowing he was not truly being seen for who he was, but who he should have been.
"What are you working on son?" George Weasley asked; leaning against the door frame, his arms were crossed over his chest.
"I'm not sure to be honest." Frederick Weasley II answered; adding a few more ingredients into the assortment.
Suddenly the liquid produced a foul odor and black smoke, causing the Wizards to gag.
Making his way across the room and over to the shelves, George pulled out a tiny pink bottle and handed it to his son. "Here Freddie, put this in there."
Nodding his head, Fred took the bottle from his Father, uncorked it and drizzled the liquid into the mixture. At once the potion turned from purple to yellow and started to twirl by itself, allowing Fred to lay down his wand. "Thank you." He clenched his teeth together. "But I'm sure I would have figured it out on my own if you would have given me the chance."
"I know you would of, you are a brilliant boy, and you just need guidance once in a while." He ruffled Fred's auburn hair. "Not like your Uncle of course, he was always on his own path and never listened to anyone." George let out a low sigh. "We used to get into so much trouble. Did I tell you about the time we hid fireworks throughout the entire castle? I wish you would pull some pranks like that." He half smiled, the skin around his eyes tightened as he started to think of his twin. "Honestly Freddie." He tousled his son's hair once more. "This is your last year at Hogwarts, make it memorable."
Fred snarled at his Father's words. "I know Dad, you tell me this every year."
George surveyed his son; there was no denying it; he was a perfect replica of his late brother and himself. They shared the same eyes, nose, hair and even the freckle birth mark on his chest that no one else in their family had.
There was no resemblance of his Mother in him. His daughter Roxanne on the other hand was his Wife's perfect match. This of course puzzled George over the last seventeen years, constantly he wondered if maybe, just maybe, his son was his brother.
Fred turned away from his Fathers suffocating eyes and absorbed his attention back to the now bubbling brew. He knew his Father all to well. Knowing for a fact that he wasn't seeing his son for who he really was, but as his best friend and brother. Fred realized at a young age what a significance he was to his Father and the reason why his name meant so much. Even the whole family would look to him to ease the pain. Especially when the anniversary of the War would roll around every year.
Honestly, Fred didn't mind being named after his late Uncle; he understood what an honor it was and took pride in being a sign of hope to his family. He did however; disliked how his family would act as if his birth never existed, or he, Frederick Weasley II was the true namesake he was named after. Yes, he looked exactly like his Uncle from his blazing hair to his pink toes. They even had similar fancies, enjoying a good prank, exploding snap, the color blue, sleeping with their arms over their head, purple popsicles but loathed the green kind.
This didn't discourage Fred, in a way he found it fascinating that he could have such a strong connection with a man he never knew. He just wished his family would see him for who he really was. Head Boy, Top student in Gryffindor, a writer, a Keeper for six years and even Captain for the second year in a row. But most of all a young man desperate for his own identity. A young man, who just wanted to break free, and be seen for the potential he had.
Bringing himself out of his trance, and forcing himself back to reality, George patted Fred on the shoulder. "Alright bud, let's go home, we will come in early tomorrow and fix the place up." Taking his wand from his robes, he tapped the brew and placed it into a gallon jug. "You can work on this tomorrow; and if you want I can give you you're Uncles notebooks. I'm sure you will enjoy those, they have a lot of tips."
Fred watched his Father take a few steps back and head for the door; he knew this could be his only chance. His one shot for saying how he truly felt, make him understand, beg him to see his son for him and not his brother.
"Dad…" Fred breathed. His palms started to sweat.
He knew this was it, now or never.
George turned around his eyes gleaming. "Yes Freddie?"
"I-I" He choked on his words. "I would like that very much, to have Uncle Fred's notebooks."
