A/N: [Written for Livejournal's sortinghatdrabs comm.] ZOMG! Guess what? This drabble didn't place but it got Mod's Choice! T-T I'm so happy! :D Read and enjoy!

Pairing: Fred/George

Prompt: Traveling somewhere (near or far)

Warnings: DH spoiler. Character death. Dark.

Word count: 346

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What Fred Knew

George thought it odd when his twin suggested they go out into muggle London. It wasn't a far travel from their shop in Diagon Alley, but it was something they only rarely ever did. He thought it even more odd the silence that had befallen his brother. Fred was never silent, not even about little things that were bothering him.

"What's wrong?" George finally asked as they trekked past Big Ben, the clocking ringing the time - 6pm.

"Do you know when you feel something is off, but you can't quite place your finger on it?" Fred asked, staring ahead of him.

"You mean like when I forgot that Fanged Frisbee out in the garden and spent hours looking for it with an knot in my stomach?"

"And it turned out mum had gotten bit by it. Yes, like that."

"Go on." George pushed.

For a long time, Fred was silent. They had stopped walking by now, staring out at the Thames. When he finally spoke up, his voice was distant.

"Do me a favor - if anything happens to me in the next few days, go to the States for me."

"What do you mean? Why?"

"Because I've always wanted to go there." Fred said, offering his twin a half smile that was obviously strained.

"Don't speak that way, it's not funny." George huffed at his brother, afraid at what he was implying. Nothing bad was going to happen to him.

Nodding and laughing suddenly, Fred agreed a little too quickly. Without another word about the strange request, they went back to Diagon Alley. A small cold weight nestled in George's stomach at his brother's odd behavior though.

Exactly one week later, Voldermolt attacked Hogwarts. When all was said and done, George was left with a dead brother and a realization of what that conversation had meant the week prior. He knew, hadn't he? Fred knew he was going to die.

A clock nearby chimed the time - 6pm.

After the funeral, George went to the States just as his brother had asked him to.

-End-