My name is Ella Robinson. I was in Slytherin, but I never fit in. I was only sorted there because of my family's history. That's why no one knew about mine and Fred's relationship. It was a secret. That was also why me and Fred were arguing in a broom cupboard.
*Start Flashback*
"Your pregnant." Fred stated. "You can't fight in your condition. It's not safe."
"I'm pregnant Fred. Not made of glass." I retorted. "And besides I wouldn't be able to take it. Not knowing if you were OK or not."
"Fine. Fight but don't get hurt. Whatever happens you have to live for our child."
*End Flashback*
That was the last time I saw Fred alive. I wasn't even welcome at the funeral. I said my goodbyes later after everyone had left. I can't help but think that maybe he would still be alive. If I had just listened. If I hadn't insisted on fighting. He wouldn't have had to give his life to save mine and our twins lives. Our son Fred jr is the spiting image of his father and our daughter Sarah is the spit of me.
They miss their father and so do I. I see Fred's sister Ginny sometimes at work. She maybe the only Weasley that doesn't blame me for Fred's death. I want them to know about the twins but they never gave me the chance to explain.