I know, I know, it took me forever to update. Can you believe that I just wrote this in about a day and half? I know, first I procrastinate, and then I write like a madwoman. My muse abandoned me for a while. But, it's back, and quite a few of my stories are recieving inspiration lately. I let the story off at a spot that was very hard to continue from, mostly because it's so hard to write for Draco. Hopefully he's not too OOC, but sorry if he is. He's a Slytherin, right? Their supposed to be sneaky and conniving!

I recieved some inspiration for this from the Star Wars : Return of the Sith book, not the movie. The book has their descriptions of people like how I described Fred at the very beginning of this chapter, and I thought it was a neat way to do things. If people like it, then I'll continue doing things that way. It seems to come pretty natural when writing. Hope y'all enjoy.

Remember to review! If you don't review, than I don't know if you like it, and I can't continue :) I've already got about 2 1/2 pages of the next chapter written, so it should be updated soon. Toodles!

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This is what it meant to be Fred Weasley --

5 brothers, town to 2. A baby sister, gone. No longer is your twin brother there to comfort and scheme with you, to share your darkest secrets and desires.

Your greatest desire is to join those who have passed on, to slip quietly in death's gentle slumber ... to put an end to all this pain and suffering, one way or another.

Everything seems dimmed and shadowed, no matter how you look at it, how you turn it this way that. Your appetite is non-existant, yet you eat to ese the fears and worries of those around you.

You know that things cannot continue this way, deep in the pit of your stomach. But what else can you do? Just surviving, day after day, takes nearly all the willpower left in your body.

But it isn't enough. Nothing is EVER enough, without your lifelong companion there with you. Without your twin.

Something has to change.

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Draco watched as the now youngest Weasley stopped in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, chewing worriedly on his lower lip.

Why had he come down here? He still wasn't quite sure, even as Fred moved to stand in front of him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" The words were cold and brusque, nothing like Fred's normally playful and jovial tones.

To be truthful, he'd never really had any problems with Draco Malfoy -- the boy's mean streak had always been directed at Ron, Harry and Hermione -- not really at the rest of the family. But the hatred between their two families was nearly legendary, so he did what he had always been taught to do : he hated the Malfoy's.

But now, as the sole heir to the Malfoy line made his way across the quidditch pitch, Fred couldn't seem to muster up enough energy to do more than just put that extra measure of coldness in to his voice.

As he came to a stop before Malfoy, Fred forced his face in to a cold mask, even as he knew that it was pointless -- everybody had always told him how expressive his eyes were; the windows to his soul.

As the secconds of silence ticked by, Fred found himself frowning in confusion at the uncertain and wary look that had suddenly come over the younger man's face.

And then Draco Malfoy did something he never would have expected, in all his years of life. He offered his hand in friendship.

Literally.

"Fred ... A coule of the 6th and 7th Years are getting togeather down in the dungeons for a private start-of-year party. I was wondering if you would like to join us?" As he said this, the 'blonde ferret' extended his hand, and Fred realised with no small amount of surprise that he was supposed to shake it.

Now, there were many things that went through Fred's mind at this point, but there was only one that stood out above the rest.

There was no difference between them, now. With only three members of their family now surviving, the family vault would no longer be depleted at such an alarming rate, leaving the rest of the money to siply accumulate intereste. Bill and Charlie both had stellar jobs, and had been depositing moneyin to the family vault for quite some time now to help with expenses, while still having mor ethan enough money for themselves.

And not only that, bu thte OTHER vaults had now been opened to them. It had been quite a shock when they'd recieved word of their grandparent's vaults (on their father's side) now being available to them. Apparently, tjeor fatjer jad beem dospwmed as a teemager for reasons that were still unknown, and the vault was only to be made available AFTER his death. The entire Weasley fortune was not at their fingertips.

And it was big. No more hand-me-down clothes or books, no more second-hand junk shops or pawn shops. They had a fortune that could very well rival that of the Potter, of Black family's.

All all of this flew through hi smind at an alarming rate, Malfoy stood with his hand still stretched out, shifting from one foot to another nervously, as the minutes ticked by.

There was more happening here than a simple invitation to a party, of that he was sure. A Malfoy always had an ulterior motive -- that was what his father had always taught him, and he refused to believe that his father was wrong NOW.

But heknew better than to simply dismiss this offering of friendship -- he did NOT want Draco Malfoy as an enemy. Ron wasn't the only who was good at chess -- and strategy.

Tentatively taking the offered hand, Fred couldn't help but return the smile that Malfoy -- Draco? -- threw his way. "I'll think about the party."

"Great! Oh, and I think I saw Dumbledore looking for you earlier -- don't imagine he'd be too pleased with you for skipping the Feast, eh?"

Fred winced slightly at that, giving the blonde a sheepish grin in response.

Draco merely smirked at that, before turning and jogging baack toward the castle. Fred hesitated a moment, running his fingers through his already messy red hair, before following after the Slytherin.