A/N: I found this short little excerpt while organizing some files to clear space on my laptop, wrote it about a year or so ago. As I work on finishing up the sequel to my ROTG fanfiction The Elemental's Curse, enjoy this one!

Fred Weasley wasn't exactly sure what happened to him at first. Only a moment ago, he'd been rejoicing in the fact that his brother Percy had actually made a joke - an intentional joke, and a decent one at that! Then there'd been a loud, blinding blast and a second of nauseating pain in the back of his head, and it was over.

When Fred opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in the heart of King's Cross Station, an extremely bright, clean, and seemly empty version. The space was completely void of all sound but the echoing of Fred's shoes as he walked along the platform, trying to figure out what was going on. He was hoping to find a way back to the battle; his family needed him, after all. Percy needed more encouragement for more jokes in the future; Bill needed more werewolf puns thrown at him to lighten the mood. Ron needed advice on how to woo Hermione once this was all over-

"Hey, Fred."

Fred glanced over his shoulder behind him to find a familiar, mischievous smirk welcoming him. "Padfoot!"

Fred remembered the first time he and George finally discovered the identities of the creators of the infamous Marauder's Map, their heroes of mischief and mayhem. It had been the summer before their seventh year at Hogwarts, and they'd been prowling around Grimmauld Place, looking for somewhere to set up a prank for an unsuspecting Order member. It was then that they'd heard Sirius Black's booming voice call out for Moony, to which Remus Lupin laughed and responded by addressing his friend as Padfoot. The boys had instantly marched over and begged to know more.

Fred's smile suddenly fell as he remembered the Sirius was dead. "But… How are you here? Did I get knocked out or something?"

Padfoot looked almost pained as he struggled to find a suitable answer to Fred's question, when an unfamiliar voice rang out.

"Oi, Pads, Moony's joining the party!"

Fred watched in shock as Moony joined them with another man, whom at first glance Fred thought to be Harry. But this man's eyes were hazel instead of bright green, and he had no scar etched into his forehead. Moony's rare smile adorned his lips as he motioned to the new man. "Fred, may I introduce to you to our old friend, Prongs."

"If anyone's old, it's the two of you."

Fred had to agree that Prongs looked a lot younger than Moony and Padfoot. He couldn't have been much older than Fred, if older at all. With dramatic flair, the man gave Fred a bow and came back up with a mischievous smirk to rival Padfoot's. "A pleasure to meet one of the two to pass on our map to my son."

Fred, still very confused, turned to Moony. "Why aren't you still fighting? Where are we?"

Moony gave Fred an empathetic smile. "I'm afraid I have to say that we aren't the lucky ones to make it to the other side alive, Fred."

Fred imagined his blood turning ice cold as his knees buckled beneath him. Prongs and Padfoot rushed forward and caught him before he could make an impact on the hard ground beneath them. Realization hit him hard.

Whatever that blast was, whatever hit him in the dead… He'd been killed in battle. He could clearly hear Percy's cries in his head, screaming for him to wake up…

Fred would never see his mum again. He'd never see his dad again, or any of his brothers or his baby sister. He'd never see Ron and Hermione get married, and he'd never meet future nieces and nephews and-

"Hey, Fred?"

Fred pulled himself back to look up at Prongs, who gave him an encouraging smile. "As you can probably see, we're one man down."

"We'll need a fourth Marauder," Padfoot added.

Fred's eyes were suddenly locked with Moony's. He felt comforted by the fact that, no matter what happened next, he was sure the Marauders weren't going to abandon him.

"You're just in time."