Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm the fan girl.
I thought of this earlier at school and couldn't wait to upload it!
I hope you enjoy reading this, as I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thanks!
This is told in third person POV.
The first time George and Angelina asked their son about the friends he had made, Fred II replied, "I haven't got any."
George and Angelina encouraged him, and told themselves not to worry; that Fred was always timid and didn't make fast friends like his younger sister does.
The next time they asked, Fred didn't reply. It had been three months and he returned home for Christmas break, friendless, and nothing to talk about. His grades were average and albeit he had nothing to be unhappy about, the boy found it difficult to be content with a void that was meant for a friend to fill.
He missed the days that he could see Roxanne anytime he wished and his cousins were a mere handful of floo powder away. All his cousins wanted to do was join him at Hogwarts, all he wanted to do was return home where he wasn't so lonely or left out.
Four months later, Fred came home for his father's birthday. George did not bother to inquire about his son's socialization; at this point he and Angelina were deeply concerned.
However, this time, Fred had something new to say.
He had made a friend.
Fred shrugged the matter off though. He barely knew anything about him.
Except that his name was Fred.
Summer came and Hogwarts let out for the students to return to their families. Fred met his parents at King's Cross station, eager to embrace them in his arms and leave Roxanne a peck on the cheek. Plenty he had to tell them about his new friend.
Fred had grown an entire inch since he last saw his family in person and there was a new happiness replenishing his face. The frown he wore several months back had been discarded and traded for a grin matching his father's.
"He loves pranking people and he is hilarious, Dad! He looks exactly like you."
George grinned down at his son, "And how did you meet this friend?"
"He asked me when my ear healed up! I thought he was mad, I mean, what kind of a question is that? He also thought my name is George." Fred laughed, "He must've been mistaken."
"Maybe we can invite him over for dinner sometime." suggested Angelina.
Fred shook his head in disagreement, "No, I don't think he can..."
Angelina shared a brief look with her husband, whose face was drained of color. He looked like a ghost.
Things fell silent for a moment; the sudden lack of conversation made was enough to drown out the sounds of everyone else at the station behind them. Even the whistle of the Hogwarts's Express could be easily ignored.
George placed a hand on his son's back and dove back into conversation with his son. The description of his boy's new friend was too familiar.
"What is his name, son?"
George shed a silent tear that he never admitted to. Even if his son never met his deceased uncle for who he was named, it was as if the first Fred Weasley lived on in another.
And that another would bring George hope.
"His name was Fred."