I tear drips down my cheek as I hug my legs closer to my chest.

I have a confession.

I hate my name.

Absolutally hate it

Fred Gideon Weasley II.

Just like his father and namesake

I just have to introduce myself and everyone expects to see the funny, prankster quidditch gods that my Dad and Uncle were.

I'm not though.

I'm the nerdy little dweeb who sits in the back of the class room and never contributes even though I know all the answers.

I'm the boy who was sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor like I was 'supposed to'.

I'm the boy who got Prefect and soon on became Head Boy but knew that my Dad would be disappointed in me for it.

I'm not the play boy my Dad and Uncle were.

I still haven't plucked up the courage to admit to them that I'm gay.

I don't play Quidditch.

I don't prank.

I don't have a twin.

I'm a carbon copy of Uncle Fred, as everyone constantly tells me, but am completely different.

I don't live up to my name.

I'm not worthy of it.

Dad tells me his proud of me but I can see the pain in his eyes every time I pick up a book, or tell him about the last O I got in my History class, or try to impress him with how I got prefect.

He tells me he loves me for who I am.

But everyone knows he is lying.

He wants his brother back.

I'm not him.

I can hear him cry all the time.

Begging for his brother.

Pleading.

Sobbing.

Mum says he will be fine eventually.

She smiles sadly and ruffles my hair.

Trying to let me know that everything will be alright.

I disagree.

Dad will never be fine

And will never be alright.

And neither will I.

Because until Dad is.

I will always be a disappointment.

The Black Sheep of the family.

Second best to a dead man.

Shoved to the side in favour of a man who has no chance of ever coming back to life.

Someone who I've never met.

Never talked too.

Has taken up the place in Dad's heart.

That I can never, ever possibly hope of filling.

I really really hate my namel

I can see the pity in teachers eyes.

The glimmer of sadness that would come across their expression as that look down at me and sigh.

I'll never live up to their expectations.

I mean, there were the Marauders, James Potter had Harry, who saved the world.

Remus Lupin had Teddy, who is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts after he had a near fatal accident in his previous job as an auror.

And then there is the Weasley twins…. Fred died.

George…. Oh he had a son Fred II…..he is really smart and was Prefect and Head boy…..

I don't exactly fit the image.

I never will.

And I will always, consistently, for the rest of my life, be trying to fill those large foot prints that my uncle left behind.

I hate my name.