The wooden coffin was lowered into the wet ground with an ominous thud. A ginger haired boy stood with a similar-haired man and woman.
The boy pawed desperately at his face, sniffing.
The woman reached a hand across his shoulders and buried her face in his hair.
The boy gently shrugged her off and bent to pick up a handful of soil and threw it in.
He sniffed loudly.
A group of teenagers stood a few feet away. The two girls were hugging, one had the same hair as the boy and woman. Four of the boys were crying too, tears running down their faces. A separate dark-haired boy removed his glasses to wipe his eyes.
At the graveside, the boy turned to the woman, snot and tears streaming down his face.
"You'll," his voice was hoarse and cracked. "You'll be able to tell us apart now. Mum."
George crept through the door of The Burrow. Mrs. Weasely stepped back from the sink, into the doorway of the kitchen to see him.
Her face fell.
"George!" George stepped forward and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. The mirror. This was its fault.
He stared at himself. His usual flame coloured hair was gone, replaced by electric blue hair.
He let out a yell and lashed out at it. It fell from its nail and shattered on the ground. He screamed and kicked out at again and again. Glass shredded his trousers and trainers. Blood trickled down his leg, making him more and more angry.
Molly Weasley ran from the kitchen and held her son as he fell to the ground, sobbing.
She rocked him, whispering soothingly in his ear. He sucked in huge gulps of breath, the last few tears streaking down his face.
"Sorry," he gasped "Sorry, sorry sorry,"
"Its okay. Why?"she cradled him. She didn't expect an answer.
Ginny and Arthur were standing at the foot of the stairs, staring at the carnage.
"I-I," gulped George.
"I kept s-seeing him in the mirror..."
Fred didn't like dying. Really didn't. It was as bad as school. But hey he was here now.
The second he had shown up, in a big lift thing, a man walked up to him.
He looked pretty goddamn familiar.
"Hello. I'm Prongs." he smiled and held his hand out.
Fred's mouth dropped open.
"Harry's dad."
Fred almost had a heart attack.
Another man came up, followed by another curly haired man.
"I'm Moony," said Lupin, his old teacher and friend.
"Padfoot," waved Sirius.
Fred looked at them.
"The little shit never told me this!"
"Charge!" screamed a ghost and led the other dozen ghosts into 'battle'
Hayley flattened herself into a wall whilst throwing Fred into a curtain.
"Wait!" yelled the first ghost and the legion screeched to halt.
Right in front of Hayley and Fred.
"Freddie!" the ginger-haired ghost, throwing himself at the boy.
"Mmuph!" Fred yelled, muffled.
"Who are you?" asked Hayley. She didn't have her headphones in for once.
"I'm Fred Weasely!" crowed the ghost.
"And this," he gestured to the ghosts next to him. Hayley noticed they were all teenagers, hardly older than herself.
"This is Dumbledore's Last Army!"