Alright, so this is the next chapter. Enjoy.

Oh and by the way, I DO NOT own Harry Potter, J.k. does, and I am not her so. That goes for the entire story. This is just a FANfiction.

I've had an awful week, I hate high school sometimes, so PLEASE make my day and review.

Fred tossed the newspaper on the table in disgust. Ginny was going to Azkaban. The Wizemgabot had voted, during her trial, and decided that that was the best decision. She was going to Azkaban for 3 years, as no one could prove that she did anything more than pass information to the Dark Lord, and then she would have a retrial. At the retrial, if anymore evidence had been found, she would either be put back in Azkaban, or allowed to try parole.

Draco looked at him, with almost undisguised pity in his eyes. Seeing this through Draco's sad attempts to hide it, Fred sat up straighter, and smiled, trying to look happier. He didn't like his friends worrying about him, they had enough to worry about.

He was currently, at Luna's and Draco's insistence, staying at their house.

After Lucius was indisposed after the war and put in Azkaban recently, and his mother was still being examined, her trial on hold (as no one was sure that she had actually done much during the war, outside of hosting the Dark Lord in her house, willingly or unwillingly no one was sure of. They also weren't allowed to use Veritaserum on her, as there was no incriminating evidence against her), the Malfoy Fortune had gone to him. Not that his mother would have had much of a claim to it if she was innocent. If she wasn't convicted, and was released, free of all guilt, something that was looking more and more likely as time went on, he would have to give her a small percentage. Although, that small percentage would probably be enough for her to live off of for the rest of her years, comfortably nonetheless.

Draco's inheritance was large, and the large sum of money, given to him by the ministry for his 'service of bravery and great consequence' during the war, didn't even come close to adding much of a sum, by comparison.

Luna and Draco, engaged as they were, had moved in together. They didn't move into Malfoy Manor, neither of them wanted to live there. Instead, they moved to one of the many Malfoy properties that Draco had inherited with the money. This one just happened to be in France. Both Luna and Draco knew French fluently, but Fred didn't. That, however wasn't much of a problem. He tended not to leave the house much if he could avoid it. Only leaving when Luna forced him out, claiming that he needed to breathe the fresh air and see the sun. Fred often gave in, figuring that Luna and Draco probably wanted to be left alone. They were engaged and in their own house after all.

Fred didn't know why they weren't already married. During the war, and all the bodily harm that came with being a Death Eater, they had each seen each other at their weakest.

Luna had seen Draco after he was tortured by the Dark Lord himself, almost to the point of death sometimes. To the point that he couldn't dissaperate without deeply splinching himself. He had always, from the midpoint of the war onwards, gone to Luna for help. Help that she had grimly, without flinching provided.

Just as he had seen her in the same position, blood soaked through her clothes, from wounds so deep they almost came out the other side. He had helped her ruthlessly, bringing her back into health, or as close as she could be, she was an active Death Eater, and a human. She was, as all humans are, prone to mistakes. Something that tended to be rather dangerous in the service of the Dark Lord.

After the war, after all they had endured, after all the death, why they didn't married now and have a few kids, as he knew they both wanted, was a mystery to Fred.

He shook his head, bringing himself out of his musings. He had been at their house, impeaching on their forced hospitality for long enough. He was headed back to Britain, despite how much he loved France. If things didn't work out in Britain, he was seriously considering moving to France permanently, after he learned French of course, though he was sure that there was a charm of some sort to help him simply speak it. But nonetheless, he was finally ready to face his demons.

His demons were, unfortunately, his family. The only people he knew that were capable, and would hold a grudge, even as their sister was thrown in Azkaban, once renowned as hell on earth, even if it wasn't quite that dire anymore.

After a surprisingly quick goodbye to Draco and Luna, who both exchanged knowing glances, and seemed to let him go to quick, he grabbed to arranged portkey. He knew that they would recognize the deep determination that he had developed as a Death Eater, though at that time, it had been to see the Dark Lord fall. Now it was to finally either reconcile with his family, or cut them off, and probably after the fighting and tears the he was anticipating, a disownment. He always had France, and his friends.

He put his finger on the portkey that Luna had had arranged months ago. It was inactive until Luna herself charmed it to work, and was set with one location, that was, of course, in Britain. Fred didn't know the details of where exactly, and he didn't care to ask. He would figure it out when he got there.

Moments later, he was whisked away, feeling the uncomfortable pinch and pull in his stomach of the portkey, before opening his closed eyes. He was greeted by the site of a white wall. Looking around, and breathing the stale air, he recognized the place. He had portkeyed, surpassing the wards, to Malfoy Manor. Though no one lived there, the house was still taken care of by house elves, and was always, as it always had been, in pristine condition.

He smiled bitterly to himself, making his way through the empty house. The house didn't exactly give him happy feelings or wash him in happy memories. As he rounded another corner, he shuddered, remembering a particularly horrific deed that he had been forced to not only watch, but partake in, that had happened just feet from where he was.

He shook his head, hoping to clear it, and walked faster, leaving his traveling cloak to flutter behind him. He was sure that he was pale as pale could be, probably due to the memories as well as the cold. The house was made of mostly stone, old as it was, and without human inhabitants, and therefore no need of a fire, it tended to get rather cold even in the spring months.

He walked out of the house, and towards the gate, noticing that it was night, a full moon in the sky, and towards the apparition point.

Before the war, of even in the beginning of it, though if he really thought about it, it had been going on his whole life, he would have hesitated to go to any of his family's homes in the middle of the night. But now, he was past caring, in a dark mood, and just wanted answers. So, when he reached the distant apparition point, he chose to go directly to the Burrow. He appartated outside of the wards, unsure if he was still keyed into them. If he was not keyed into the wards, and he chose to apparate directly to it, he would be painfully rejected from the house, and thrown back to his starting point, as Malfoy Manor in this case, and would most likely have been splinched in the process.

Once at the Burrow, after walking a quarter of a mile or so to the actual house, only to find that he was keyed into the wards, and therefore allowed to walk onto the property, he hesitantly made his way to the door.

He was surprised to find that the lights were on, and even just at the door he could hear the noises coming from inside.

He peered slightly through a window on the side of the door, that was partially open. The view was slight, and all he could see was the vague and cut of outlines of indistinguishable people. They were clearly standing casually, grouped in bunches of four of five. He could hear the laughter.

It must not have been as late as he had originally thought. He pulled out his wand and cast a tempus charm, that would tell him the time and date of the location he was at. It was just after eight, and a Sunday.

It quickly came to him. Why the Weasleys, he assumed that it was his family, were gathered, with no celebratory cause in sight, his mother made all of her children, and close friends/family of theirs, come back to the Burrow every Sunday. It was a tradition since the end of the war, frankly Fred though that Molly was only so insistent of it, because she was so afraid of losing another one of her children. He was sure that she viewed Ginny and him as 'lost'. Ginny because of the mark on her arm, and her continued loyalty to the Dark Lord. Fred because of his current friends, as well as for having dared to stray to the dark side.

No matter how honorable his intentions were, he suspected that, at best she would accept that it had happened, and forget about it. He hoped that she was capable of doing that. Though he would never admit it to anyone or thing outside of his own mind, he missed his mother and family, especially his twin, dearly. He was ready to forgive and forget if they were. He hoped they were.

Mentally preparing himself, he walked slowly up to the door, starting to think that he should have changed his clothes, and fixed his hair. Currently he was wearing all black, a black robe and cloak on over his muggle clothes. His red hair was spiked up with gel, making it stick up in every direction.

He quickly walked the last few feet, and knocked on the door, giving himself no time to turn back.

Once knocking, he need only wait a few seconds, before the door was opened. He had expected that his mother or father would open the door, and was not prepared for his face to be staring back at him.

"Fred?"

Fred raised an eyebrow, an emotionless mask plastered to his face, showing no emotion despite his racing heart.

"Do you know someone else with your face?"

George just looked at him, and sighed, his shoulders dropping tiredly. He looked down, and opened the door wider, gesturing only with his head for him to come in. Fred did so nervously, though easily keeping his face mask on and body language in check.

The room, that Fred knew had been previously filled with laughter and movement, quieted and stilled as all eyes turned to him.

His parents were both there, it was their house, as well as Bill, Charlie, Percy, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. As well as, of course George.

No one moved for seconds, until everyone moved at once. Molly burst into tears, and moved towards him, while Arthur looked stoically at him from the other side of the room. Harry and Ron, though surprised to see him, gave him warm smiles, both remembering what he had done for them as a Death Eater at Malfoy Manor. Hermione practically beamed at him and started to walk towards him, before spotting Molly, and wisely keeping out of her way. Bill and Charlie, both studied him for a moment, before nodding and going back to their conversation.

Molly, who had made it to him from across the room, engulfed him in one of her famous Weasley hugs, sobbing into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. After Ginny we- we just-" she broke of into tears, though she hadn't been very coherent even before. Arthur, who had been trailing behind his wife, smiled at Fred, who was looking at him over his mother's shoulder.

After disentangling himself from his mother, he stood awkwardly, before his father had threw his arms around him. The two, son and father, embraced emotionally though shortly.

Fred was, for the first time in a long time happy and relieved to be in his family's presence. The trio, as everyone called Harry, Ron and Hermione, were all happy to see him, and engaged happily with him in light conversation. Bill was also happy to see him, though that was nothing new. He had, Fred later found out, with Charlie, stood up for him to the other members of the family, who had been less than happy with him. Charlie, he found out, had been a key part in getting the family to see past the past, and in the light of Ginny's betrayal, forgive him.

Even though Fred had never been close to Percy, he found him much easier to talk to, probably because Percy was one of the most forgiving. He, Fred reasoned, understood what it was like to be cast out from the family, and the want, even need for their forgiveness.

George, Fred soon found, was the least forgiving, and didn't even want to talk to Fred. But Molly, in all her stern kindness, upon spotting this immediately sent them up to the room that they had shared. Which was where they were. Fred was sitting at the desk, facing away from George, who was lounging on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed in the room.

"Well," Fred had spoken, moving to look at George, hoping that he would open up.

"Well what?" George sounded irritated, and even without seeing him, Fred could tell that he was pissed. They were twins, and had been raised together, even after all that happened between them, he would always know him best. Or so he thought.

"Well, are you going to tell me what's bugging you?"

"What's bugging me? Oh I don't know, maybe that you were a bloody Death Eater? That you never told me? I am your twin, we tell each other everything! Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you!"

George had got up, and was standing at the foot of the bed, yelling vehemently at Fred. Fred looked torn between shame and anger. Anger won out. "How could I tell you?" he started yelling to, though he stayed sitting, "Do you not understand what a spy is? I couldn't tell anyone, that was the whole point!" George only seemed to get angrier, and carried on as if he hadn't heard what Fred had said, "And now your off all buddy buddy with Malfoy, and as if that weren't bad enough, Lovegood and Longbottom!"

Fred stilled, his anger compelling him to attack, but he held off, his voice quieted, "What's wrong with Draco, Luna, and Neville?"

George looked at him incredulously, "What's wrong with them?! They were all bloody death eaters! Malfoy I can understand at least, but Lovegood and Longbottom betrayed us, I don't care what they say they did, or what they supposedly sacrificed for us. They are lying. How you can even stand to be in their presence, dirty traitors as they are."

Fred, who had been trying to calm his anger, stopped. The vile comments on his friends, his deep friends, who had suffered so much, simply sapped his energy to refrain from violence. He however did still not want to hurt his brother, but he anger had to be quelled.

Walking forward, he clenched his hand in a fist, and before George could do anything, had thrown his fist forward, feeling the satisfactory pain as his knuckles connected with his check. Using the momentum from the punch, he walked out of the road.

Just feet from the door, he was stopped by Percy.

Percy silently turned to the door, still holding the fuming Fred by the shoulder. The only reason that Fred did not throw Percy of him, was that he was both shocked at what he had done, and wanted to do again. He had never, in his months as a death eater, resorted to muggle means. How shameful, but at the same time, exhilarating in the way that only dark magic was.

Only moments later, George came out of the room, fury on his face. He, when he saw Percy and Fred, started towards Fred, but Percy stepped in front of him. He pulled out his wand, and pointed it at George, knowing that he was going to be less cooperative than Fred had been. Percy levitated George, who was unable to move, carefully down the stairs and into the living room. Fred, chuckling darkly to himself at the sight, though he was still furious at the slight to his friends. The only friends, and until recently, people that would talk to him, and knew what he was dealing with.

In the living room, most of the people had moved into the kitchen, from their anxious expressions, they had heard the conversation, or yelling match, between Fred and George. Fred was genuinely surprised that Percy was the only one who had intervened, though judging by how he hadn't entered the room, even he was nervous to do so.

It suddenly struck Fred that his family might be afraid of him. Although, the more he thought about it, the more that he realised that he hadn't encouraged his family to think differently. He wore black, hung out with ex Death Eaters, though he wasn't going to apologize for that, constantly cursed, and made no attempts to hide his dark leanings.

All the fight drained out of him, and he moved to the couch, sagging in it, barely noticing when Percy levitated George a seat away from him, and unfroze him, although he didn't do much.

He wasn't going to change everything. He wasn't going to change who his friends were, and the darker parts of Magic were part of who he was. But he didn't have to wear black, or be so unapproachable to everyone. He also should, and could spend more time with his family. He shouldn't have run away to France like he did, he should have stayed and worked things out with them. He couldn't change the past, but he could change the future. Which is what he would do.

Please. Review. I've had an awful week... :(

But have a great day! :)