Disclaimer: Here, see what I own? No? Exactly.

A/N – This came to me in a vision. I'm not even sure what inspired me, but this is just a quick fic that really almost came out of nowhere. One little bitty OotP spoiler, but you probably won't even pick it up if you haven't read the book. Enjoy!

Short Summary: After spending his entire life as part of a group, instead of himself, Fred Weasley decides to act out and separate himself from the rest of the Weasley clan, and especially his twin brother.

DIFFERENT

By: Hopeful Writer

"Oi, George, look at this."

Fred Weasley gave his younger brother a withering look. "I'm Fred," he replied sharply.

"Oh. Right. Well, look at this. Hey! Where are you going?"

Fred stormed up the stairs, ignoring Ron's protests, and entered his deserted room. His roommate, his twin brother, was outside with their younger sister Ginny and older brother Charlie. They were attempting to play ballfoot, or some Muggle game.

Fred enjoyed the quiet of an empty bedroom, a quiet that gave him time to think. He flopped, face-down, on the bed and groaned. After being alive for almost 19 years, he thought his family would be able to tell him and George apart. They were identical, but there were still a few differences. George was neater, always orderly and organized – even his side of the room was tidier than Fred's. When they weren't donning professional robes, George liked to wear button-down shirts and nice slacks, opting for a simple, clean look, while Fred wore bright colors and casual clothing. They both enjoyed pulling pranks on other people, but it was for different reasons. George liked the challenge of inventing new things and was quite proud with the line they had created. Fred just wanted to make people laugh, give them some enjoyment during a difficult time, what with Voldemort back in power and a war erupting around them.

It said something about his family that they couldn't notice these differences.

Oh, his mum could do it most of the time. She still got a bit confused when they were dressed alike, during the times they had worn their Hogwarts robes, business robes, or similar clothing, but she could mostly see them apart. Their father, having spent much of their childhood working to put food on their table (no one in the family would ever fault him for this), made more mistakes than Molly, but Fred had neither the heart nor the strength to yell at him. Bill and Charlie had also been away, whether at school or in their respective countries, for most of the twins' lives, and they had difficulty telling the difference. But Ron and Percy, who had lived with the twins for 17 and almost-19 years respectively, were just as bad off. And they weren't even apologetic about it!

Ginny was the only one who was always right, could always figure out the differences and see the twins as two separate people. Ginny, little Ginny, who was Fred's confident, who he entrusted with his deepest, most un-Fred-like secrets. Ginny, who he privately considered his favorite sibling besides his obvious better half. Little Ginny always knew which one was Fred and which one was George.

It was Ginny who Fred wanted to see right then. But she was out with George and Charlie. Or so he thought.

There was a sharp knock at the door. "Who is it?" Fred yelled, his voice muffled by the pillow he had forgotten was in his face.

"It's me." It was Ginny. She opened the door without his permission and slipped inside, shutting it gently behind her. "Ron said you ran away from him," she remarked casually, perching on the end of his bed. "I figured you might need someone to talk to."

He smiled into his pillow, then rolled over. "Yeah, thanks."

She laid down next to him with a plop, folding her hands behind her head. "What happened?" she prodded.

Fred sighed, fixing his stare on the ceiling. "Ron called me George again." Another sigh. That habit was becoming old already. "You'd think he would figure out which one of us was which by now. Are we that difficult to tell apart?"

Ginny giggled slightly. "Well, you are identical." Catching her brother's glare, she quickly repented, "But you're not that hard to get straight. You know how Ron is though. He's a thick git, and I don't just mean with you and George."

"I know his love life is in the toilet, Gin, but this isn't the time for me to play matchmaker." He sat up suddenly. "I want to be something different," he declared, turning his eyes to his little sister. "I'm sick of being called George, and being compared to Cool Bill and Reckless Charlie and Perfect Percy. And even Harry Potter's Best Friend down there. I want people to look at me and think, 'There's Fred.' Not, 'There's somebody's brother,' or, 'There's one of the Weasley twins.' Just Fred."

Ginny was silent for a long moment before an evil grin began to form on her face. "I have an idea," she stated, meeting Fred's sapphire eyes, exactly the same shade as hers. "Leave everything to me. Just meet me in my room tomorrow, an hour before dinner. And don't tell anyone."

Fred studied her with a new respect. "Okay. You're the boss. This time." She smiled with a fake innocence that fooled neither of them. She got up to leave, though not before pecking him on the cheek. "Hey, Gin," he added, calling her attention back for a moment. She looked at him inquisitively. "Thanks."

"No problem, big brother. Just remember this next time you need a guinea pig for the newest WWW." With that, she disappeared through the door to begin the preparations for Fred Weasley's Big Makeover.

* ~ * ~ *

Ginny had spent the better part of the morning and early afternoon poking and prodding at her Pre-Makeover Kit, which allowed her to stick of picture of Fred in it and adjust it to look exactly how she wanted before she tried it on the actual person. When the real Fred came through her door at 5:02 p.m., she had out several containers, scissors, and several different articles of jewelry (manly jewelry, of course, so as not to wound her brother's masculine pride).

He looked nervous. "What are you going to do to me?" he asked, his voice shaking ever-so-slightly. It wasn't Fred's nature to get scared, but giving his younger sister full reign over his appearance was a rather unnerving thought.

Ginny smiled a seemingly innocent smile. "Don't worry, dear brother. When I'm done, you'll look great. Different, but great. Trust me." She indicated for him to sit in her desk chair.

Fred obeyed, closing his eyes and sighing (having ignored the promise he had made to break that habit). "I trust you, Gin. You know I do."

She smiled sincerely. "Then just sit back and relax. Everything I do is temporary, since I can't do magic outside of school yet. If you like it, I'll teach you some spells to make it permanent. Well, permanent until you want to change it."

She had obviously put a good deal of thought and research into this, so Fred merely nodded and said, "Are you sure you don't want to help George and me with the joke shop? You've got just the mind for making pranks."

Ginny blushed at the praise. "No, thanks. I think I may start a beauty salon when I get out of Hogwarts. But I've got time yet to think about that. Unlike you, Percy's footsteps have been somewhat muddled, what with you and George's leaving school before N.E.W.T.s, and Ron's over-extended rebellious stage. If I get a good score on my exams, Mum won't bug me about my job choice. She's already quite pleased with my O.W.L.s, if I manage to get Prefect again, maybe Head Girl, she'll have kittens."

Fred found himself marveling at her for the second time in two days. "I believe you truly are the most brilliant one of any of us," he declared with pride. "You've got her, Dad, and all of us guys wrapped around your little finger."

Ginny beamed. "And I have more dirt on all of you, including Perfect Percy, than I know what to do with."

Fred had barely noticed that she was wetting his hair until she commented, "Now, much as I think you look good with long-ish hair, it's a very Weasley thing to do. We've all got long hair except Dad."

"You're going to cut my hair?" Fred demanded, sounding scandalized. "But it's my bloody hair, Gin. It's perfect."

She rolled her eyes, though Fred couldn't see. "Don't be a baby, Fred. It's just hair. It'll grow back."

He merely sighed again. "Fine," he replied in a weak voice. After all, he had trusted her. There was a lull in the conversation before he asked, "What do you have on Percy?"

Ginny smirked. "Much more than you would imagine. I caught him and Penny in several, er... *compromising* positions. I'm positive that, at least once, it wasn't legal for the two of them to be doing what they were doing. Um... I discovered a certain magazine under his bed. Oh, don't look like that, Fred Weasley, there's one under your bed too."

"Yeah, but I'm not Perfect Percy," he insisted, trying not to wince as Ginny's scissors clipped around his head furiously, and red locks fell into his lap and onto the ground.

"That's true," she relented. This time, Fred did wince as Ginny came a mite too close to his ear and he felt the cool metal blade snap closed only millimeters from a very sensitive part of his body.

"What about Bill? What do you have on him? 'Cause he's almost as bad as Percy. If it wasn't for his sense of humor, he'd just be another Bighead Boy." Fred was trying to keep up a conversation, so he didn't think about what he was subjecting himself to.

"Mostly similar stuff, although I have an explanation as to why he had to get stitches in his head when he was sixteen, and it wasn't because a gnome caught him off-guard. He and Charlie got into a fight over some girl at school, and Charlie punched him across the face and sent him flying into a tree trunk."

"No way." Fred had never even guessed most of this information. "But Bill and Charlie never fight."

"They did then. It was one of the only times, though. And even then Bill covered for Charlie."

"Yeah."

The silenced had resumed, but Ginny's scissor torture had stopped. Now she was putting some black gunk on his hair. "What's this?" he asked curiously, reaching up a hand to touch it, which Ginny promptly slapped away.

"Hair dye. Black. Your hair is going to be jet black." She glanced at the bottle. "Onyx, to be precise."

Fred's jaw dropped open. "You're dying my hair?" he cried, pulling away and holding his hands over his head protectively.

Ginny bit back the urge to sigh. She had expected some form of pre-makeover jitters, but this was ridiculous. "Fred, dear, you wanted me to make you look different. I'm doing that. You can either look the same or different, not in between."

Fred bit his lip, then nodded. "You're right, of course. It's just a little... er, scary. I've been a redhead for my whole life."

"Duh," Ginny muttered. Then, louder, "Trust me. People will be able to see you as Fred now."

Silence resumed as she worked the dye into his hair, occasionally stepping back to admire her handiwork. Fred decided it was best to let her concentrate, lest she loose focus and turn him into some hideous freak (that may have been an exaggeration, but Fred's imagination was running away with him at the moment).

Finally, after draping several chains around his neck, Ginny stepped back for the final time and held up a mirror. Fred gaped at his reflection. The black hair made him look more pale than usual, but it also seemed to reduce the visibility of his freckles. The necklaces Ginny had put on him were silver and glittered in the dim light of the room. His hair was short, but long enough for her to have spiked up. All in all, he no longer looked like George. He looked like...

"Fred," he whispered. "I'm Fred."

Ginny beamed. "Damn straight," she told him. He raised one (properly darkened) eyebrow at her. "You sure look different, Freddie. Mum is going to have kittens."

He hadn't thought about that. As he studied his reflection again, he grinned. "That's okay. She'll have to get used to this. I like it, and that's all that matters."

"Kids!" Molly Weasley's voice rang up the stairs. "Dinner!"

"Ready to face the family?" Ginny asked.

Fred gave the mirror one last look before nodding. "Let's go."

Ginny entered first, making sure that everyone was seated before Fred came in. "Hey, Fred, come on!" she called, confirming it.

Fred took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling butterflies creep into his stomach. He stepped into the kitchen.

For a long moment there was dead silence, broken only when Ron dropped his fork into his plate, creating a loud clang. "Fred?" Molly whispered, tears in her eyes.

Fred managed a weak grin. "Hey, Mum. What's for dinner?"

George jumped up from his seat and ran to Fred's side, looking his twin up and down. This was the opinion that really mattered to Fred. George burst out, "Bloody hell, Fred, you look smashing! Who did you hair? It's great!"

Fred gave a relieved smile. "Ginny," he admitted. She beamed, trying her best to look innocent of a crime only she could commit.

George's outburst shattered the tension. Ron raised his eyebrows. "I'll never have trouble telling you two apart again," he remarked, not knowing exactly how good that comment sounded to Fred's ears.

Charlie clapped Fred on the back. "Brilliant, mate. It's about time you got a mind of your own."

"Oi, I've got a mind of my own," Fred shot back heatedly.

Charlie smirked. "Obviously. You're not just another Weasley clone now." Fred had to grin at this, and Charlie clapped his shoulder again. "Bill'll be proud of you too. We'll Floo him later. He should be home by eight."

"Thanks, Charlie."

Molly swooped in next, scooping her son into a hug. "Oh, Fred, honey, is this what you really want to look like?"

He patted her back, nodding. "For now, at least. I like it."

Molly sniffled. "Then I like it too. It's going to take some getting used to, of course."

"I think he looks grown up like that, Molly," said Arthur from his place at the head of the table. "Different, but older somehow."

Ginny flashed Fred a thumbs-up, which he returned with a grin.

Finally Percy spoke up. "I think it looks ridiculous," he declared pompously.

"Yeah, but when was the last time you looked in the mirror," George shot back.

"Boys," Molly warned. "Percy, this is Fred's decision. You will accept it, whether you like it or not."

Percy looked down at his mashed potatoes sullenly. "Yes, Mum."

"Now, everyone, let's eat before the food gets cold," she added, clapping her hands and sitting at her own place at the table.

Fred slid next to Ginny, smiling gratefully at her. "Thanks, little sister."

"No problem, big brother."

"Oi, Fred, look at this," Ron insisted from across the table.

Fred grinned and leaned forward, only to have something explode in his face. "Ronald Weasley!" their mother screeched.

"Er, oops?"

As Molly gave Ron a good tongue-lashing, Fred caught George's eye and they doubled over in silent laughter.

A/N – Well? How was it? Please drop a review; it really makes me feel better about my writing.

§--HW--§

"Part of being sane, is being a little bit crazy." – Janet Long