"Fred! Oh my baby!" Mum exclaimed from behind us, and threw me from my brother's clutch.

"Later." I called out over the roaring sounds of families and friends celebrating.

I stood back a bit and watched, extremely amused, as my family and a few select friends (Harry and Hermione) embraced, slapped, cried on, and squeezed the air out of Fred.

When Fred got a couple seconds of rest, he would wink at me jokingly or roll his eyes. Fred was back.

Finally, mum said that we should go home and have a feast to celebrate all that had occurred.

We all apperated away with smiles on our faces and mum's cooking on our mind.

When we arrived home, though, Fred grabbed his stomach and groaned.

"I need a couple minutes. I'm not feeling too good. George... can you come up to the room with me?" Fred asked, sounding feeble.

I followed him up to our room excitedly, believing it to all be a ruse so we would be able to enact our next practical joke.

"So what prank should we do first? Should we go classic muggle with the whoopee cushion or should we magic up some fake blood and-"

My excitement was interrupted by a loud crash behind me while I closed the door.