April 1988
A whimper came from the other bed as the crack of thunder split the air. Fred wordlessly went over to his twin's bed, knowing that George would never come to him for comfort, even though this was what happened every time there was a storm.
In a way, Fred loved these storms, for even though they upset George, they were also the times when George was most honest, and would share anything that was bothering him. Fred treasured those moments, for it made him sad that his own twin was so shy and secretive around him.
He was brought out of his musings by another whimper from George, and he pulled his brother into a warm hug.
"Don't worry, George, it won't last too long. The storm will be over before you know it," he whispered comfortingly.
George's only reply was to tightly grasp his brother's nightshirt.
"Is there something else bothering you?" Fred asked gently, pulling away slightly to look his brother in the eye.
George started to shake his head, then hesitated. Fred had to strain to hear his brother's soft reply.
"We're going to Hogwarts next year after we turn eleven, right?"
"Of course we are. You know that," Fred replied, wondering what his twin meant by that.
"What if we don't get sorted into the same house?" George asked, sounding terrified at the idea.
Fred pulled his brother in closer. "Don't you worry about that, Georgie. We're Weasleys, and Weasleys always get sorted into Gryffindor, so there's nothing to worry about. We'll be together, always," he proclaimed, sounding very sure of himself.
"Promise?" George asked, sounding hopeful.
"I promise."