"So…why now, Mum?" George asked, seeing that Molly had calmed down. Together they had walked to the kitchen and were quietly doing the dishes together.

Molly sighed. "Last night, George, when you were all set to storm out of here, you said something… said I had been right about you being a failure all along." She shook her head. "I might not have beaten you, George, but sometimes the worst scars are the ones you can't see."

He understood. For years it had lingered in the back of his mind that there must be something wrong with him, for his mother to not treat him with the same love she showered on his siblings. Even when he would dismiss it, laugh it off, it remained, like a faint musty smell left behind after a flood. You might become used to it, but it was always there.

Once Fred had died and it had become very nearly open hostility between the two, there had been no buffer that let him dismiss her behavior. Now, of course, he understood…she hadn't been angry at him, but at herself, and at the failure he reminded her of. And he couldn't dismiss her reasons for what she'd done, though they seemed almost comical now. But if it were Alf…if Voldemort were to return, and tell him that disowning Alf would be the only way to spare Alf's life, then he'd do it, even if it would break Alf's heart. Part of having a child.

Fred's child. His. Whatever. It was, truly, the same thing to him now.

Looking towards Molly, he sensed she was still melancholy, beating herself up over the past. No use, that.

Slyly, he maneuvered his wand, and the water from the sink rose in a quick spray, right for her face.

"GEORGE!" She gasped, standing back and waving her towel to stop the spray. He let it stop, looking at her with a quirky grin, and she charged him, laughing, slapping at him with the towel at first. He laughed back and ducked, only to be totally surprised when she sent the coffee grounds in an arrow, down the front of his shirt and having them literally tickling him over his chest.

"AGH" He cried, giggling, tossing his shirt off and re –aiming them towards the garbage, only to have Molly now shoot a jet of water from her wand to spray him off. Very, very, cold water. "MUM!" He choked out, wiping himself down. With a start he sent a puff of flour at her head, which she quickly directed right back at him…so he was pasted with flour, coffee and water.

And so it went, as every available item that could conceivably be flung without causing pain arced across the apartment. A set of teaspoons chased George through the living room. A box of nosebleed nougats did a conga line around Molly as she tried to get away. Until both of them, hoarse and out of breath from laughter, collapsed on the sofa, calling "Truce!" at the same time.

Except as they both sat, huffing and puffing and grinning like fools, neither of them expected the burst of a water balloon over their heads.

"WHA?" They turned together to see Alfred, slightly pale but smirking, standing triumphantly with his arms crossed. When they just stared at him his expression froze for a second, and his smile began to dim as if he realized that what he'd done might not have been welcome.

But George's grin filled his face. "OH NO YOU DIDN'T!" He lunged for the boy, scooping him up in a fit of giggles, swinging him around to Molly, who began to tickle him senseless, before the chase was on, again, though some compromises being made for Alf's lack of magic.

The laughter was deafening and glorious in George's mind. Laughter like he hadn't full known since Fred left him. Laughter like he hadn't shared with Molly since he was, apparently, three years old. And if the flat became a right mess, well, who cared? Some things were worth messes.

Nobody heard the pop from the fireplace until there was a bellowed, "EXPELLIARMUS!". George and Molly's wands flew away, and the three pranksters turned around.

Arthur stood there, speechless. Molly gaped, straightened her hair out, and tried to look more dignified. George felt much as he'd done when his father had found him and Fred just after that Dung Bomb went off under Fudge's car. Alfred, on the other hand, just grinned and ran up to him. "Grandpa!" He hugged. "Uncle George and Nana are having a food-fight! Isn't it BRILLIANT?"

Arthur did the only logical thing. He gave in and howled, laughing, slapping at his thighs. He leaned over to the table, using it for support, and began wiping tears from his eyes, he was so overcome. Alf patted his arm in sympathy, and finally he started speaking. "I…you…both…" Again, laughter choked him. "Sorry…thought you were killing each other!"

"With coffee grounds?" George said, trying to sound indignant. "Really, Dad, I would hope I could do somewhat better!"

"Honestly, Arthur." Molly said at the same time. "Can't a woman have a little fun with her son and grandchild without it causing a catastrophe?"

It was still some time before Arthur recovered, which was just as well. Molly settled Alfred down with a cinnamon roll after making sure his arm was okay, and then she and George began to clean up their mess, with George singing mangled versions of Celestina Warbeck in a clear, handsome tenor.

It was, it turned out, a very good day indeed.

WWWWWW

Three Week's Later….

George joined the entire family at the Burrow to celebrate Percy's birthday. He was tired…the enormous fireworks order from France had been consuming him, and at times Alf. But he was glad to be here tonight; Alf had spent the past couple of days with Teddy and he missed him badly. He watched him now from the porch, smiling; Alfred was showing no signs of any damage to his arm, as he and Teddy wrestled in the back yard. Alf was teaching Teddy the muggle game Rugby; James and Ricky were trying to play along. The entire scene filled him with satisfaction.

Percy came up beside him, handing him cold pint of ale. "Better keep yourself fortified." He said, with a wry smile. "He's going to be quite a handful…and you, George, have been working too damned hard."

George took the drink gladly. "I wouldn't have Alf any other way, Perce; and I am fully intending to enjoy my break from gunpowder and pixie pigment." He tipped the pint towards Percy, in salute. "And Happy Birthday, big brother."

Percy looked at him carefully. "I am…glad…that everything has worked out." He coughed. "Wasn't sure how the family would get through this summer."

"We're Weasleys. We always manage." George put his drink down and reached over for a small bag that was off to the side. "Here, Perce. For you."

Percy was puzzled. "You already gave me a gift." And indeed, George had bought him a very expensive goblin-weave dress shirt, guaranteed to keep the wearer at the perfect comfortable temperature regardless of the weather. Percy had beamed, and said he'd wear it to work the first thing Monday.

"Ah, well…this is just a little something extra." He admitted. "Something I'd been meaning to do for a while…it's been a devil hiding it from you at the shop, but fortunately Alf can keep a secret."

Percy opened the bag up to discover a brand new, bright green Wo-Wo. The thought of buying Percy toys or tricks would have been totally foreign to anyone else in the family, but George wasn't anybody and this wasn't just any toy. Indeed, Percy's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. "George…you…you couldn't possibly remember!"

He smiled at Percy. "I do."

George was three years old, corralled in his playpen with Fred, where they were trying to spin their blocks on edge instead of taking a nap. Five year old Percy burst into the room suddenly, face red and fused with anger and tears. He clutched a round, green toy in his hand defiantly.

Fred looked at him curiously. "What Percy have?" He asked.

Percy turned to the twins, jumping, as if he didn't realize they were there. Wiping at his face, he showed the younger boys his prize. "It's called a YO-YO." He said importantly. "Look!"

Flicking his wrist suddenly he made the plastic globe circle down the string, and then just before hitting bottom it flew back up to his hand.

"Oooh!" Fred said, clapping with approval. George watched eagerly. "Do Again, Percy!" He begged.

Percy, who rarely commanded attention from the twins like that and who had the distinction of being the only clumsy Weasley child, beamed proudly. "LOOK, BOYS!"

For the next several minutes Percy entertained the twins with a whole assortment of tricks, much to their delight. Fred laughed gleefully and George leaned forward, wide eyed with amazement. Percy was so wrapped up with entertaining his little brothers with this new-found skill that he quite forgot why he had run into their room to begin with.

"Percy!" Bill strode in, arms crossed in anger. Now, any older brother could be a real prat to his younger siblings, and though Bill was better than most, he had his moments, and even Fred and George could tell this was one of them. They both stood, silently watching, side by side grasping the side of the railing, as Percy stood still, his YO-YO clutched behind his back. "GIVE IT HERE" Bill commanded, with the authority of a ten-year old.

"No!" Percy backed up, "Mine, Bill!"

"It's not yours, Percy, it's Dad's, and it's muggle." He said, spitting out the last word. "Dad needs to show it at work tomorrow. You can't have it!"

Percy's eyes glinted. "You're just mad because I can make it work and you can't!" He said.

Percy must have gotten rather close to the point, because Bill got so angry he didn't think right. Pushing Percy over, he forcefully grabbed the toy from his younger brother, AND proceeded to smack Percy hard on the butt.

"OW!" Percy yelped, pulling away and face flushing with tears.

"TELLING!" Fred cried out. Both he and George knew that cardinal rule number one in the Weasley household was that brothers didn't hit each other. Hitting your brother would get you in a huge world of trouble with Mum and Dad.

Bill knew, too. And it would be even worse, because he was the big brother. Him hitting Percy was much worse than Fred smacking George. He looked downright scared for a few seconds, then he smiled smugly.

"Oh, but Percy doesn't want you to tell, Fred." He said, in an irritating voice. "Because how much trouble will Percy be in for going in to Dad's study to take it!"

Percy was wide eyed. "Didn't! You did! You threw it aside when you couldn't do it and I found it!"

Bill stood in the doorway now grinning. "But who's Mum going to believe, Percy? I found it in your hands. I'm BILL! Besides, I'll tell her George really hit you, not me."

George glared at Bill. "In playpen!" He said, indignantly. "No hit Percy!"

Bill scoffed. " We all know you can get out of the playpen whenever you want." He sneered once more at Percy. "Sides, you shouldn't be playing with this anyways. It's MUGGLE." He stressed again. "You're supposed to be a WIZARD, Percy. But I guess you're such a bad wizard you can only play muggle games!"

And with that parting shot, Bill sauntered out.

Fred threw a block at the door behind him. "BAD BILL! BAD, BAD!"

Percy sat down on the floor and started to cry. George, with every caution, climbed over the playpen. (Bill had been correct about their prowess) and gave Percy a hug. "Bill's bad, Percy." He said, "I liked your toy."

Percy had hugged him tight. "M-m-m-me too." He sniffed. "Guess I'm a muggle."

"No muggle!" George said. "You Percy!"

Tentatively, Percy slid the end loop over his finger, where it adjusted magically to the size of his finger. With a hopeful expression, he flicked his wrist…and just like that old muggle toy, it spun effortlessly down the string at Percy's command. Unlike the muggle version, it spit off mini-fireworks and sparkles in a cascade of blue and yellow, while playing the 1812 Overture. Percy's normally serious face split into an unbelievable grin of delight. "BRILLIANT, George!"

George gave an obviously fake modest shrug. "Music was Alfred's idea, actually…knew it was missing something. The wilder the tricks, the more spectacular the light-show."

Percy actually laughed, and became that five year old again, working the toy faster and faster. George beamed at him as the Overture became louder and the fireworks began to attract a crowd. In fact, within minutes every niece and nephew were gathered around their Uncle Percy, and little Perri was mesmerized. "More, Daddy!"

Alfred came up beside George, looking on with admiration. "Way to go Uncle Percy! You should come down to the store and demonstrate for the customers!"

Percy responded by doing a trick that made the Wo-Wo shoot right up in the air, around his head and under his leg. Everyone applauded.

At that moment a bemused Bill came out of the house. "Who brought the band?" He asked. Then he spotted Percy and came up short; his face flushed as his own memory traveled to their childhood. Sheepishly he loosened his collar with one finger, and cast a quick glance over at George. George met his eyes innocently.

"Care to have a go, Bill?" Percy challenged, eyes still twinkling in delight.

Bill laughed in embarrassment. "I think you know if I did it would hardly be…er…my finest hour."

George chuckled. "What, Perfect Bill can't handle a little muggle toy?" He teased.

"THIS!" Percy said, with the commanding voice of a carnival barker, "…is no MUGGLE TOY! This is an instrument of daring, skill and dexterity forged by the finest wizard novelty maker in all of Britain! Whooop!" He spun around, making the toy ark over his head, sending a shower of sparks into the night, before finishing with a flourish and a bow.

With cheers and laughter, the crowd dissipated, heading for food as Molly called them over to the table. George was still pink faced from the compliment, as Percy wound the string around the now innocent looking item, and gently placed it back in the bag. His face and eyes still sparkled with excitement. "Really, really brilliant, George…have I mentioned that?"

"You have." George said, dryly. "I am thinking I should have you doing testimonial commercials." He clapped his big brother on the shoulder. Percy's face clouded slightly, and he flushed, looking away. It was a few moments before he could speak.

"I always thought…" And his voice trailed off.

"What?" George asked. And then he knew. "That I'd wished it was you and not Fred?" He shook his head. "Perce, we'd just got you back. I didn't want it to be anybody. But if I'd had a choice, it would have been my life I'd offered up."

"That's it, isn't it?" Percy said, meeting his eye. "Any one of us would have laid down our lives for the other."

"We would have." George sighed. "I was angry for a long time that it had to be him. But it's not like we're given choices about these things."

Percy was looking over at Alfred now, who was wolfing down a rather sizable hamburger. "What are you going to do, George? About Alfred's magic, I mean."

"Dunno." George admitted. "Next year, of course, I figured I'd talk with Hermione about a good muggle school…not the place where Harry's cousin went, of course. He's bright, could have a brilliant education. For this year, though, not sure I see him at the local day school…not surrounded by kids who can do magic, even if they're not allowed. I'd be hard on him, I think."

"Very." Percy admitted. "There are probably muggle boarding schools for the younger years?" He asked.

George stiffened up, and then sagged. "I can't bear the thought of sending him away like that, Percy. Oh, I know it wouldn't really be sending him away, but…hell, I just FOUND him. Suppose I'm selfish."

Percy shook his head. "No, George. I saw him the other night. He needs you. He's spent 10 years without a proper Dad. Now he has you. I don't think he's ready to be away from you yet, either."

He felt better with Percy's affirmation. Not that it left him with any more ideas, just more questions. But at least he felt less crazy for his gut instinct.

He was surprised to see his father approach him, a peculiar look on his face. "George, you're wanted, Son." He took a deep breath. "Draco Malfoy is here to see you."

WWWWWWW

Of all the expected visitors one might find at the Burrow, if George had been forced to name a "least likely, it would have been Draco. And given everyone's past history it was perhaps not surprising that not just George, but Ron, Harry and Arthur came into the room together.

"Draco." George said, civilly. It was three weeks since Alfred had saved Scorpius, when he had seen an entirely different side of the younger man. But he had no clue which Draco Malfoy would be showing up today.

"George." He turned and looked round the room. "I would ask to speak to you privately, but I wouldn't expect you to trust me. Besides, I expect your family puts less stock-in-trade in secrets than mine does."

"Quite likely." Arthur said, acerbically. His feud with Draco's father was old and long.

"Well," Draco began. "What I have to say regards Alfred, and while it's not necessarily private, it's probably something your kids shouldn't hear."

George was intrigued. "We'll cast silencio..." But before he could, Draco held up his hand.

"You might want to get Granger…er…Hermione…as well." He blushed faintly. "As I remember she was a fair hand at potions."

Ron looked to George, who nodded, and then he went out to get his wife.

"I must say I am curious, young Malfoy." Arthur spoke. "As to what you could possibly have to discuss with our family."

Draco looked at Arthur, his face a cold mask betraying neither hostility nor friendship. "I know that the old blood wizarding rules are out of fashion. And frankly most of them should be. But it isn't all bullshit." He set his shoulders. "I owe Alfred a blood debt. And I am ready to pay."

Hermione, Ginny with her, entered to join the conclave. Hermione's face was just as inscrutable as Malfoy's…Ginny's was openly hostile. George cast the silencing spell, and the six Weasley's faced Draco Malfoy. He looked across the group and settled with George, who was the only person who looked open to hearing him. "I can't blame you for your reaction, I suppose. YOU…" He looked at Ron and Harry. "Saved my life twice during the battle of Hogwarts. I never did thank you for that, though I will say at the moment I didn't see much point in living." But it was George whose face he returned to. "I'm going to be blunt, now, but I am begging you to hear my story out. It's going about the wizarding community that Alfred is a squib. Is that true?"