I'm sorry it is so short, but I hope you enjoy.
Angelina lied in bed wide awake. It was very late and she was utterly exhausted, but she had too much on her mind. Beside her, George was snoring. He had finally dozed off after tossing and turning.
Fred was keen to find out what happened at the end of the battle. Percy did most of the story telling. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley (who held her lost son's hand the entire time), Bill, and Ginny filled in details when his versions faltered. Ron and Hermionie didn't say much. They never spoke much of the whole ordeal; Angelina suspected that their part was far more extensive than any of them could ever realize. And George listened.
Fred really was living the story for the first time. His surprise at the details and the grief of lost friends were obvious. He was completely shocked at the truth of Professor Severus Snape's loyalties and his great deeds.
It was all so surreal.
After the initial shock had worn off, the presence of a twenty-year-old Fred became unsettling. And seeing him and George together was even more so. It was nearly impossible to tell them apart as boys (by Second Year, Angelina had learned to recognize the slight difference of George's cowlick). But together as they were, George's reseeded hairline, weathered face, and creased laugh lines were far more pronounced compared to Fred's youth.
When Fred asked about the family, Arthur had, thankfully, announced it was late and they all needed rest. Angelina still hadn't made a decision on whether or not it was truly Fred, despite the evidence of the evening, and feared for the children. She had no doubt that the other Weasley's in that house shared those same concerns.
She sincerely hoped Harry was on his way home. Not only for Ginny and the kids' sake, but to see if he could provide any insights.
And she prayed to God that her family would make it through this.
