…Then he heard a terrible cry that pulled at his insides, that expressed agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause, and he stood up, swaying, more frightened than he had been that day, more frightened, perhaps, than he had been in his life…. And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three redheaded men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood. “No no no!” someone was shouting. “No! Fred! No!” And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.


The Potter Generation
Favorite Weasley

Bill came as something of a surprise. Harry knew that he worked for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, that he had been a Head Boy of Hogwarts, and had always imagined Bill to be an older version of Percy (…) However, Bill was - there was no other word for it - cool. He was tall, with long hair that he had tied in a ponytail. He  was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. His clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that Harry recognised his boots to be made, not of leather, but of dragon hide.