Remember me?- Fred Weasley

Memories?

Fred was dreaming again; he saw himself enter a bar with a family of red heads. He was young, around 14-15 years old he would guess. He saw a boy with glasses and dark hair, younger than him, shaking hands with a boy that was older than Fred, with red hair and glasses.

"I hope you're well?" He heard the red headed boy ask.

"Very well, thanks-" The other boy answered but was interrupted when Fred suddenly found himself elbowing the red head boy away and bowed to the brown-haired boy.

"Harry! Simply splendid to see you, old boy –" Fred felt himself getting elbowed away from Harry. He turned seeing a boy that looked identical to him.

"Marvelous! Absolutely spiffing." The boy said, shaking hands with Harry.

"That's enough, now," They heard a strict voice say as she walked up to them. An older ginger lady.

How many gingers were there?

He wondered, as he seized the ladies' hand, yelling.

"Mum! How really corking to see you –" He heard himself say.

"I said, that's enough," Who he guessed was his mother said, as she put her shopping bag at an empty chair in the bar.

"Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?' She pointed at a badge Fred couldn't read very well.

"Second Head Boy in the family!" She said, with obvious pride.

"And last," He heard himself mutter.

"I don't doubt that! I notice they haven't made you two Prefects!" She said frowning.

"What do we want to be Prefects for? It'd take all the fun out of life." The boy that was identical to him said, looking revolted by the idea. A little girl, Fred hadn't noticed laughed.

"You want to set a better example to your sister!" His mother said.

Sister? How many siblings were in this dream?

"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother, I'm going up to change for dinner..." The ginger boy with glasses said, before walking up the stairs.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid, But Mum spotted us." The identical boy said.

Suddenly Fred felt himself opening his eyes, the sunlight creeping into his apartment told him it was morning. He sat up, his breathing heavy, and fast. Fred's shirt stuck to his skin, he was so sweaty he needed a shower and quick.

Was that a memory? If it was, why are they starting now?

Fred shook that thought out of his head, it couldn't be a memory, he's never had one before, they weren't starting now, Fred decided. He walked to the bathroom, stripping out of his sweaty clothes, and hoping into the shower.

Just a dream just a dream.

He told himself as he let the water wash away the dream.