Oh, no, no, no, stupid, stupid, stupid—

Yeah, way to go, Fred. You've figured it out. You've gone and discovered why the attic is off-limits. Want a prize?

Should've known Dad was hiding something. He's always so damn worried about the attic, like he's keeping a body up there or something. Ha. Close enough.

I've asked why Dad doesn't have an ear, of course. He finally told me last year. Said he figured fourteen was old enough for me to know. I kind of knew he'd lost it in the war, but I never knew it was Al's middle-namesake who took it off. That was kind of a cool surprise, but Al didn't find it too funny. Said he'd heard enough about the bravery of Severus Snape. The guy didn't sound too brave, though, cursing off people's ears from his own side… Dad says I'll learn all about the war sixth year, so maybe that'll be less confusing then. I might actually stay awake for that in History of Magic.

Yeah, but I guess I wasn't old enough to learn he had a twin. Dad. Had a twin. Named Fred.

So this is why Grand Molly never looks at me without getting this miserable look on her face, like I've gone and killed someone she loves. Used to think I was doing something wrong, or she'd caught me in a prank or something, and instead of yelling at me, she was just unbelievably disappointed. Turns out it's because I remind her of her dead son. Fantastic.

How the hell has the entire family managed to keep this a secret? Vic and Molly've already been through sixth year; they've definitely learned all about the war and even more about our family than they already knew. Grand Molly and all my uncles and Aunt Ginny obviously know. But no, I had to learn from a cardboard box in the attic marked Fred—1997.

I thought it was mine, of course, besides the date. Thought it might've been a very old birthday present they'd been saving up for a while, or something, 'cause that's what I was looking for; my birthday's in a week or so, and it's a tradition of mine to find presents before they're given. Roxie won't have any part in it, of course—says it's more fun to be surprised—but I think my way's more satisfying.

The attic was the ideal hiding spot. I borrowed Mom's wand without too much trouble, did an Alohomora on the door, and it popped right open, easy as pie. Didn't look too special, just a load of dusty boxes—but the Fred one had been brushed off, so I went to it first.

It was full of pictures—old ones, with the little white borders and Grand Molly's handwriting on the backs—of who I thought was my dad. But then there were two of them, side-by-side, labeled 'Fred and George, aged 12' and so on, and… well, it wasn't hard to put together.

I bet I won't even be in trouble. Dad's just gonna sit me down with that tired look in his eyes and explain that he was going to tell me when I was older.

Doesn't matter. I'm just a replacement, anyway.

A/N: first person yay

Drama Assessment 1: Monologues play a big role in many plays. Choose a character and write a 500 word monologue on a topic of your choice. It must be in first person, contain no dialogue and involve just one character.

-Ebaz