Hi all! So I watched the movie for the second time today and came up with this as I was crying over Fred.

I never saw my father smile.

I mean a real smile, not one of the fake ones that made him look like he was sucking on a lemon. He was a great father when I was a kid, kind and loving but there was always something missing in his expression.

It was like he had lost the will to grin and laugh. Occasionally he would give my mother a small smile, but it was empty. I still wonder how she could stand it.

For a long time I didn't understand. How could a man who ran such a successful joke shop never smile or laugh?

When I first saw the photo album, I was 11 and looking forward to Hogwarts. The book was bright yellow with the initials F and G entwined on the cover in black.

I didn't recognize him. All through it there were pictures of two redheaded boys who were always smiling and laughing, looking at the camera as if they had another trick up their sleeves.

It wasn't until I was halfway through the album that I realized that one of the boys was my father, and the other boy was my Uncle Fred who died before I was born in the Battle of Hogwarts.

It hurt to see my father looking so happy in the photos when he had never once smiled at me. He clearly used to beam at everything and now he just looks on apathetically.

I suppose that it was Uncle Fred's death that sucked his joy away, but I can't help but think that it wasn't fair that I never got to see him truly happy.

As I got older it bothered me more and more that he never reacted to anything I did. If anything, he got worse.

At one point when I was 15, he stopped looking at me altogether. My mother found me crying in my room after a few weeks of this and she held me until I calmed down. When I explained what was wrong her face grew sombre and she told me it was because I looked so much like my dad it was hard for him to see me without seeing my Uncle Fred. I replied that it wasnt fair for him not to look at me just because I looked like his brother. I heard her yelling at him that night, but I didn't bother to listen to the words.

He started looking at me again, but his eyes held such sadness I started not looking at him.

After I graduated Hogwarts there was a huge party at the Burrow at my Grandma's insistence. He didn't come.

When I saw him a few days later he didn't even apologize, just asked me what I wanted to do next, as though he hadn't missed such an important moment for me.

I couldn't help but shout at him. I accused him of not caring about me and never being there for me and he just looked away. Infuriated by his lack of reaction to what I was saying, I yelled that he never saw me anyway, he only ever saw Uncle Fred.

His eyes blazed for a second and he jumped to his feet. For a moment I had this insane, desperate hope that he would do something. Yell at me for saying such an awful thing, deny it, anything. But he just sat back down, his eyes lifeless. He told me to get out, to which I replied "Happily"

I found that photo album again and hated him a bit for never seeing past that I looked like his long dead twin. I took my favourite picture from it with me when I went to manage the joke shop in France.

It was of my father and Uncle Fred shortly before his death. They were standing in the shop, a giant U-NO-POO sign behind them. They were laughing as they looked at the camera, firecrackers going off around them. They looked as though nothing could ever stop them. Ever bring them down.

I only went home for Grandpa Weasly's funeral. I think he was crying, but he stood apart from everyone and didn't stay after the ceremony.

After eight years in France I got an owl from my mother. "He's dying, come quickly" it said. My first thought was "why? He won't see me anyways" but I knew I had to go. Deep down I wanted to see my father one last time.

He looked so much older than his 50 years when I saw him lying on his bed. They didn't know exactly what was wrong with him, but I did. He was dying from a heart that had been cracking for 29 years and had finally broken. I was the last to see him. Everyone else had already said their goodbyes. He looked up when I walked in and reached out his hand to me. I gripped it tightly and as much as I told myself that I didn't care, tears were welling up in my eyes.

"Freddie" He whispered "Freddie I...I'm so glad I got to see you again. I love you, I'm so sorry...I love you" and as his eyes slid shut. he smiled at me. A real smile, for the firt time.

"Dad?" I asked desperately "Please Dad, I love you too, please open your eyes" The tears boiled over and streamed down my face. He was gone.

At his funeral, I placed the photograph I loved and a firecracker in his hands. And I know, that somewhere, he's smiling again.

So it was Fred II's POV, George and Angelina got married when they were 21, and had Freddie when they were 25 (not correct I'm sure, it's just where I decided I would put it) It jumps around, a bit, hope it mostly flowed though.

I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought!