Why

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A lot of people ask me why.
Why do I only have one ear?
Why does the sight of my son bring tears to my eyes?
Why do I never use my wand for cooking?
Why did I call him Fred?
"Why did you call him Fred?" They'd ask looking at our two-year-old son. Those were the people that Angelina knew from work or the witches that were always at Harry and Ginny's, the ones who didn't know me very well. No one that knew me when I was 19 ever asked because they knew. "Fred is named after Fred." That was all I ever said. If they didn't already know they were better off that way. No one who had just asked after a two-year-old's name wanted to hear a tragedy. To them I was just a single birth, nothing more. Not a twin. Not Fred and George. Just George.

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