Disclaimer: I own nothing

This is the final chapter, guys. OTWT has finally come to a close. It has been a long and heart-breaking journey, but I would do it all again.

I want to thank you, the readers, for sticking by this story, even when it got to it's lowest. From Ethan's early entrance into the world, to the unexpected revelation of Angelina and Brianna's death, it has been you who has kept this story going. Thank you.

Sit back, and enjoy the ending of Only Time Will Tell.

Love always,

Avoline

Ethan watched his mother as she rounded up his siblings for bed. Brandy, who was three years younger than him, was home for another two weeks before she went for her fourth year at Hogwarts. Her twin, Brody, had just gotten a new broom from their father as a reward for making the Gryffindor house team. Jonathan, who just turned 12, was going for his second year and hoped to make the Ravenclaw house team. ("The first Ravenclaw in the family," Fred, their dad, had joked.) Finally, there was little Samuel. At only eight years old, he could already make things disappear or levitate at his will. Ethan was shocked at how powerful the youngest member of the family was.

"But Mom," Samuel protested.

"Do as Mom tells you, Sammy," Ethan called. Hermione smiled at him.

It was that smile that always managed to cause him to not ask the most important question of his life. He had always known that something was different about him. It wasn't the fact that he almost didn't make it to see seventeen. That could happen to anyone. There was something that was setting him apart from his brothers and sister. Something that caused a look of sadness in his father's eyes when he looked at him. Something that he couldn't help, but was clearly causing his parents pain.

"Ethan." He turned around to see Fred behind him. Maybe he could tell him what was wrong with him. "Is something bothering you?"

"A little bit, Dad," he confessed. Their eyes met, and he could see that look. He had seen it for the past seventeen years. He wanted to know why. "Why am I so different from everyone else?"

Fred broke eye contact and looked at Hermione. Ethan knew what that meant. Whatever it was, it was big. He was starting to regret asking that question.

"The others are in bed," Hermione informed softly. "I think it's time he knew the truth, Freddie."

The truth? The truth about what? Ethan looked at his mother, then his father. Fred is his father, right?

"Son, we've been shielding you for far too long," Fred began, "and we've been living a lie."

"You're not my father," Ethan whispered. Fred nodded. "In reality, I'm your uncle. You're father is my younger brother, Ron. You haven't met him, and for god reason."

"When I found out I was pregnant with you, Ron had become abusive," Hermione explained. "I couldn't let him into our lives, and Fred was there."

"I offered her a place to raise you, away from Ron's unpredictable ways. I wanted to make sure she was safe and that you would be able to be happy."

Ethan shook his head. It was more than he had anticipated, and it was overwhelming.

"Where is he," he forced out.

"In Azkaban, on two counts of murder and one count of attempted murder," Fred answered evenly.

"He's not getting out any time soon, is he?"

"No, son, he isn't." He took a deep breath. His biological father was a murderer. Maybe it was better if he had never asked.

"Don't blame yourself, Ethan," Fred soothed. "We knew you would ask one day. It was bound to happen." A large, strong hand gripped his shoulder, and he looked up to see Fred's deep blue eyes. "No matter what, I will always be your dad. You will always be my son. We are family not because of any blood bond, but because of something much stronger."

Tears rimmed Ethan's eyes. He knew what his father was implying. He never had to tell him how much he cared; Ethan could feel it every day. But to know that Fred still considered him his son, even when he knew the truth, brought him to a level of emotion he had avoided for so long. He tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing he could say. The lump in his throat would have made it impossible anyway.

"Ethan," his mother cooed as she pulled him into hug. He closed his eyes and leaned into her embrace. He was trying his hardest to not cry. He didn't want to thought of as weak.

"It's okay, son," his father's voice whispered. "It's okay to cry. We won't think any differently of you." A few tears slipped down Ethan's face. He never realized what they meant when they told him he almost didn't make it. He never realized that him AND his mother were in any kind of danger at one point.

He never wanted to loose the sense of security his dad had given him.

He followed the security guard as he lead him down the row of cells. Despite his mother's warning, Ethan wanted to see the man who posed the biggest threat to him. He was told that Ronald Bilius Weasley was a brute of a man, a bit smaller than Uncle Charlie and Uncle Bill, but still much bigger than Fred. That was one thing Ethan noticed about himself; he was built much larger than Fred. Maybe Ron to answer to why he felt the need to kill.

"Whatdaya want," a gruff voice demanded. Ethan turned to see an almost exact copy of himself.

Ron's hair was long and disheveled, and most likely had not been washed or combed in years. His eyes reflected nothing but rage, probably the same rage that drove him to kill two people, nearly three. The Dementors had done a number on him, and they still had a ways to go.

He looked like only half the man he could have been.

"You must be Ron," Ethan answered.

"Why do you look like me," Ron snapped.

"Probably cause you're my biological father," Ethan answered coolly. He would not let on how badly he wanted to ring the man's neck. He would not let himself stoop to that level. "Although, I don't blame Mom one bit for cutting you out my life." Ron snorted.

"And what was Hermione's reasoning," he inquired. "Said I was too controlling? That I was cheating on her? She left me for my older BROTHER!" Ethan didn't even blink. His parents were right; Ron did have quite the temper.

"So far you're only proving her and Dad right," he replied calmly.

"Oh, so dear Frederick is Dad now," Ron sneered. "You aren't the first child to call him that! His precious little Brianna screamed for him while I killed her and her whore of a mother!"

Ethan slammed the bars of the cell. Now he was fuming. This man, the man who treated his mother like she was dirt, killed a child. His own niece, for that matter. What got Ethan the most angry wasn't the fact that it was Ron's own family he killed.

Brianna was Fred's daughter.

No wonder Fred looked at Ethan with such sadness. Ethan was more than an adopted son to him. He was more than Hermione's child. He was a second chance at raising a child. He was a second chance at proving Fred could be so much more.

"You listen here and you listen good," Ethan growled. "You know nothing about what Dad has done for me and Mom. You wouldn't know what a true family is if it looked you in the face. Dad cares more about me and my siblings more than you will EVER know." He turned and walked away. Enough had been said, and he felt more enlightened than when he walked in.

It was dinner time anyway. Mom was cooking his favorite, lemon pepper tilapia, and Dad needed ideas for the joke shop.