Part of the Year Long Scavenger Hunt ([E03] Write about a canon muggle being born magical or a canon wizard being born a squib) on HPFC.
Useless
"Don't tease your brother," said Molly, who was beginning to think it was a bad idea to have so many children. It was bound to happen. The poor boy was ridiculed daily for being a squib, but his brothers were the worst of his tormentors.
It had been a very difficult process, learning how to raise a non-magical child in the midst of all the magic that surrounded them. The Weasleys hadn't had a squib in their family for at least a century, if anyone could remember. It was heartbreaking to find out… When George had begun to have his first magical incidences, they were all waiting for Fred to show some sign of his own magic, but they were still waiting. George had been accepted to Hogwarts, and Fred had never received a letter. Then Ron, after him, had gotten his letter. Fred was now seventeen, and he had never been able to show any sign of magical talent whatsoever.
Molly and Arthur had resigned themselves to the fact that they would have to raise Fred amongst beratement from his own brothers. The only one who was kind to him was Ginny. She loved to show Fred 'magic tricks' and she let him hold her wand at times. It was wonderful to see them together, but when she left to go to school at Hogwarts, he was miserable.
There wasn't much he could do around the house without magic to help him. Molly already had spells to clean up and spells to wash dishes and spells to cook meals. Fred spent most of his time degnoming the garden. The other half of his day he would pour over Ginny's old textbooks. He wanted so badly to be like them, but there was no use pretending. Squibs had no magic. Squibs couldn't be like them.
Molly never wanted Fred to feel left out, but one day she overheard an argument between George and Fred.
"My twin?" George had said, his face filled with disgust. "You're not my twin. I couldn't possibly have the same genetic makeup as a squib."
She had grounded George for a month, but it didn't do any good for Fred's already poor self-esteem.
One day, when the children were off at school, Fred came downstairs from reading the old textbooks he loved so much. He was carrying them all in his hands, trying not to fall over from the weight. Molly put a spell on the books to keep them steady, but she received a cold stare from her son. Realizing her mistake, she apologized. Fred placed the books on the kitchen table and said, "Mum, can you burn these? I imagine we don't have a lighter."
Molly's heart stopped for a moment, and she looked at Fred in despair. "Fred, what do you mean? You love these books."
Fred shook his head. "They're a cruel reminder," he said, and walked up the stairs.
Two days later, the three of them were sitting at the kitchen table for a meal when Fred said, "Mum, dad… I'm moving out."
Molly dropped her fork onto her plate. The noise of it rang like a gong and echoed in her mind. Arthur was more composed. It even seemed like he had been expecting it.
"Where will you go, son?" he asked.
Fred's smile was bigger than Molly had ever seen it. "London," he replied.
"Why there?" Molly was confused and desperate. She didn't want to lose him, and she knew she would if he was going to do what she thought he wanted to do.
"Because I belong there."
Her heart plummeted. He was going to live as a Muggle, and they would be the odd people that made up his family to any acquaintances, friends or partners he might have. Despite knowing that this would be for the best for him, that living as a Muggle would be so much easier, she selfishly wished he wouldn't.
Arthur patted him on the back and was smiling.
"We'll miss you, son."
Tears fell from Molly's eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her shirt sleeve. She reached across the table and held Fred's hand. "You are always welcome here."
Fred inhaled and, with a small, sad smile, said, "No I'm not."