Chapter 7
By Sunday Fred felt much better, and so he spent some time in the snow with George and their friends before his next detention. Apparently the quidditch match had really freaked George out, because not only was he always hovering (often with Angelina), but when he wasn’t one of their friends was.
Plus, Fred had gotten no less than four letters about the incident, one from each of his graduated brothers and then one from his parents. Apparently, their dad was also appealing their ban. Bill and Charlie both offered to ‘take care’ of Malfoy, and Percy had written a wry (if a bit shaky) letter about how they could both say they were beaten up by a Malfoy now. Fred hadn’t found that very funny, but the letter still made him smile, especially since Percy had also said they were working on removing the extra curse, and he’d be left with just the aftereffects of the cruciatus to recover form.
On the bright side, Fred was 100% sure George did not know about the pesky words on his hand. One, because he knew he’d never hear the end of it if he did, but also two, because Pomfrey had told him she was leaving his hand be, to teach him a lesson for fighting. She hadn’t even looked at it, so Fred was left with bruised knuckles on one and words carved into the other, but honestly that was a good thing.
“You’re sure you still feel okay?” George asked. “You just got out of the hospital wing this morning.”
“Yep, and I’m 100% healed.” To prove it, Fred nailed George in the face with a snowbell. Angelina cackled.
“Good aim, Fred!” She cheered, making her own snowball to hit George with. George sputtered, and Fred and Angelina ducked behind a makeshift snow wall before he could recover. “Hey, look, real quick, I wanted to talk to you.” She grabbed his hands, her eyes bright, and Fred internally groaned. He’d dodged George all right, but he’d forgotten about Angie. “I’m sorry.”
Fred blinked. “For what?”
“For stealing George from you.” She seemed devastatingly serious.
“For- Ange, he’s his own person. He can choose to hang out with you. Plus, I’m not mad about it.”
“Okay, but you started getting weird after we starting dating, and I was just thinking-”
“Whatever's going on with me has nothing to do with you and George, not anymore.” Fred peered over the wall and threw another snowball at George, ignoring the twinge in his side as he did so.
“Okay, so what is going on with you?” Angelina crossed her arms. “And don’t say nothing.”
“I honestly don’t know.” Fred shrugged. “It’s like, I’m stuck in my head? And my brain is saying a lot of things that I know aren’t true and I shouldn’t believe, but I believe them anyway which kind of makes them true? And everything feels too big, but also like it doesn’t matter, and I just need space to think.”
“You’ve had almost a whole term of space.” Angelina said carefully. “Has it helped?”
Fred thought about it, and then his shoulders slumped. “Not really, no.”
Angelina grabbed his hands again. “Fred, you need help. Like, actual help, not sit in your head and trying to fix it help.”
“I’m-”
“If that sentence ends with fine I’m shoving your head in the snow.” Angelina said flatly. “I am giving you until after the holidays, if you haven’t talked to George by then I’m telling him what you just told me, and then locking you in a room to work it out.”
“George-”
“Is your twin and very worried about you, yes.” Angelina interrupted. “And you need to talk to him. Until after the holidays, Fred, that’s your deadline.”
Fred fussed about Angelina’s deadline for weeks, trying to figure out how to talk to his brother after avoiding him all semester, when suddenly it didn’t matter very much at all. One night just before the holidays the everything fell apart.
“Up, both of you! Fred, George, you’ve got to get up!” McGonagall woke up Fred very rudely in the middle of the night. George swore as he fell out of bed, waking up the rest of the dorm in the process. Lee stared at McGonagall in confusion.
“Professor? Is everything all right?”
“I’m afraid not.” McGonagall said. “Meet me in the common room Misters Weasley, I’ve got to get your sister.” Then she vanished, and Fred and George shared an alarmed look.
“Common room, right.” George said shakily. “C’mon Fred.” He pulled Fred out of bed, and the two of them stumbled downstairs. McGonagall appeared a moment later with a baffled Ginny, and swept them off to the headmasters office.
“What’s going on?” Ginny demanded, her voice shaking. “Is everyone alright?”
McGonagall didn’t answer, and Fred swallowed. He pulled Ginny close to him, and tried to push away the memories of the third task that suddenly swarmed up in his vision. His chest grew tight, and he wished, desperately, that all of his brothers were all right.
“Mr. Potter had a vision tonight,” McGonagall said finally, as they rounded a corner, and Fred realized she’d spent the last few minutes trying to figure out how best to say it. He glanced at George, and saw his own panic reflected in his eyes. “He saw your father, hurt.”
Fred felt the panic in its chest rear its head, and it threatened to pull him under. He took a couple deep breaths as they entered Dumbledore’s office, and he let George and Ginny take the lead on asking questions. He didn’t speak again until they were in Grimmauld place with Sirius, Sirius demanding to know what happened.
“Ask Harry,” He managed to choke out, and heard George confirm his statement. He listened in dull horror as Harry told the story of his dream, and Fred wished very selfishly that his family could be left out of this war entirely.
“Is Mum here?” He asked, once Harry was finished. Sirius shook his head.
“She’s probably being told now, the important thing was to get you off before Umbridge could interfere.” Fred’s heart sank at the mention of her, and he knew by George’s sharp look that he hadn’t missed it.
“We’ve got to go to St. Mungo’s.” Ginny said urgently. Cold sweat broke out of Fred’s neck at the thought of that place. He never wanted to go back there, not after days they’d spent there after the third task. He wondered if his Dad had made it there, or if he was already dead. He vaguely heard his siblings arguing with Sirius, but couldn’t really think past the sound of his heart pounding.
“...Fred? Fred?” He tore his eyes away from his shaking hands to meet George’s worried gaze. “Fred, what’s going on, are you alright?”
Fred wheezed in response, unable to get enough air into his lungs to answer. Sirius pushed George aside, ignoring his protests.
“Fred, look at me.” Sirius grabbed his shoulders. “Look at me. Take a deep breath, here breathe with me.”
Fred tried, he really did, but his stupid lungs wouldn’t cooperate. “I-” He cut himself off, shaking even harder.
“That’s okay, keep breathing. Alright, you’re alright. Can you tell me what color the carpet is?”
Fred blinked, glancing past his hands to look down. “Um, looks black.”
“Used to be green.” Sirius barked a laugh. “Okay, bad question. Keep taking deep breaths. What do you smell?”
“Butterbeer?” Fred asked. Sirius grinned, and Fred glanced beyond him to see his siblings and Harry clutching mugs of it, George looking mulish.
“You got it. Can you taste anything?”
Fred swallowed. “Blood. I think I bit my tongue.” He frowned. “When?”
“Probably while you were having a panic attack.”
“I was what?” Fred choked, feeling the same awful feeling rise in his chest. Sirius grounded him with a couple taps on his shoulder, and then shoved a mug of butterbeer into his hand.
“It’s okay, I’ve had them before, they’re not a bad thing. Moony, sorry, Remus Lupin, he’s had a few too. He’s the one who taught James how to pull me out of it.” Sirius glanced back at his siblings before retraining his eyes on Fred. “I do have to thank you for your timing,” He said in a low voice. “Your brothers and sister are mean, they were wearing me down.”
“No hospital then?” Fred asked, sipping at his butterbeer.
Sirius shook his head, a sharp glint in his eye, like he knew exactly how Fred felt about the hospital. “No hospital yet,” He agreed. “Probably will, once your mum sends news.” He lowered his voice even further. “If you don’t want to go you don’t have to, we’ll figure something out.”
“No,” Fred shook his head. “He’s my dad, I need to go.”
“Right then.” Sirius said. “Sit with your siblings, we’ll wait for news from your Mum.”
Fred slid into the chair next to George, who immediately leaned over, all in Fred’s space. Fred didn’t mind, it made him feel more present. “What was that?” George hissed. “Fred, that was freaky, I’m freaked out.”
“Er-” Fred took a sip of butterbeer to delay his answer, and was saved by the bell, or more literally the phoenix. Fawkes burst into life in the middle of the living room, causing Ginny to scream. Ron too, but definitely not Fred and George, they were too adult like for that. He and George shared a look as Sirius bounded for the paper. He turned, with the announcement that it was probably from their Mum, and handed it to George. Now it was Fred’s turn to ignore personal space as he shifted to read the paper silently as George read it aloud.
“Dad is still alive.” He started. Fred caught the tremble in his voice on those words, but didn’t think anyone else did. “I am setting out for St. Mungo’s now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.” He looked around slowly. “Still alive…but that makes it sound…”
Like he almost wasn’t, which made Fred feel like throwing up. Or passing out. Or both. He snatched the letter to read it himself, and then passed it to Ginny who was reaching for it. George placed a heavy arm around his shoulder. “Fred…” He said lowly, and Fred knew he hadn’t forgotten their interrupted questioning, sorry, conversation.
Fred shook his head. “Later,” He replied. He knew it was only the tremble in his voice that made George not push further.
They waited for news for what felt like forever, Fred finally falling into a light doze. He was woken up by the sound of the door opening, and his mother entering the room. He half rose, in unison with Ron and Harry, collapsing again with the news that his father would be alright. He wondered if his mum was just saying that, but upon remembering her panic with Percy he decided she was being truthful.
“Percy!” Fred said suddenly. “And Charlie! Do they know?”
“I’m sending a letter now,” His mum said softly. “Do you want to add anything?”
Fred shook his head, before changing his mind and scrawling a quick apology on the letter to Percy. A post-script, of course. He hoped he wasn’t too mad he was ignoring his letters.
“Breakfast?” George asked, two plates in his hand. Fred accepted one. “Can we talk about it now?”
“Talk about what?”
George pinned him with a look, and Fred sighed. “Sirius said it was a panic attack.”
“Why?” George asked. “Why did you have one, I mean?”
“I dunno,” Fred shrugged. “Just, started thinking about the hospital, and Percy, and then Dad…” He faded off, but he knew George understood. George stared at him.
“You think too much.” He declared finally. Fred snorted. George had no idea how much he was underselling it, half of Fred’s problems would probably be fixed if he thought less.
“Probably,” He muttered. George threw a sausage at him.
“Tell me next time you start thinking like that.” He ordered. “Because no offense, but you were like shaking and not responding to me and it was super creepy and I don’t want you to do it again.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Fred said sullenly.
George nodded. “Purple.” He said. Fred cast him a bewildered look, convinced his twin had finally lost his mind. He’d say he wouldn’t be far behind then, but truthfully Fred had probably lost his mind months ago. At least, he feels like the last term would be what madness felt like. “If you start thinking too much, you say purple.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Or turn something purple, I don’t care.”
“No, George, I-”
“You can what? Handle it? No you can’t. So purple.” George nodded like the conversation was over, and honestly, he was probably right. Fred was too tired to fight with him properly.
“Fine.” He sighed. “Purple.”
“Eat your eggs.” George ordered. “I want to go to bed.”
“We’re not conjoined, you can do what you’d like.”
“After that show earlier tonight? Not a chance I’m leaving you on your own. Eat your eggs.”
Fred did, but for the record, it was only because he was tired, and not because he did what George said.
Fred and George woke up a few hours later, beautifully well rested and fit for a trip to St. Mungo’s. By that Fred meant he had tossed and turned and had a few nightmares, but he had gotten sleep and there was no way he was telling George it was anything less than great sleep. To his relief, their trunks had arrived from Hogwarts, so they wouldn’t be stuck in pajamas or robes.
“Ready?” George asked in low tones as they started down the steps.
Fred forced a grin. “Always.” He bounded downstairs, greeting Moody and Tonks boisterously, and, after a long pause in which George looked like he wouldn’t cooperate, making fun of Moody for his bowler hat.
“Tonks will attract less attention!” Fred said with glee. Ginny giggled in agreement.
“Her hair is pink, boy!” Moody grumbled.
George winked. “Exactly.” They all collapsed into laughter, in much better spirits now that they knew their dad was okay. Even Fred felt better, despite all the leftover feelings from his panic attack not being quite out of his system. Maybe sleep did help, however fitful it was.
“Where is St. Mungo’s hidden?” Harry asked as they stepped out of Grimmauld place. Fred and George shared a look. Sometimes they forgot Harry had been raised in the muggle world, although it was harder to forget those bars on his window. Fred decided that he would check in on Harry once he had his head on straight, make sure he was doing okay after the third task. After all, Harry had actually been there. Fred was just being weird for no reason.
“Here we go,” Moody said, catching Fred’s attention. He frowned, he must’ve zoned out again. He glanced at George to see if he’d noticed, but George wasn’t paying attention, caught up in a serious conversation with their mum. Fred wondered what that was about.
Tonks took the lead on ushering them inside, and before long Fred found himself standing with his family (and Harry, but honestly Harry counted as this point), in front of his dad’s bed. He babbled on about the others in the ward, which meant that he was just fine. George was rather focused on what their dad had been doing, although Fred knew he was mad if he expected their dad to talk about it here. Sure enough, they were shooed out when George pushed it too far. Quicker than they could blink, Moody and Tonks hurried inside and shut the doors.
“Be like that then,” George muttered. Fred stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out an extendable ear. George caught his eye and grinned, producing a few from his own pocket. “That’s my twin!” He crowed, looking on top of the world. Fred rolled his eyes and handed his to Harry.
“Go on, Harry.” He encouraged. “You saved his life, if anyone has a right to eavesdrop it’s you.”
Harry took the ear with a smile, and George tossed Fred another one. They caught the end of Tonk’s sentence easily, and listened for a few moment. To Fred’s horror, Harry’s name almost immediately came up.
“Potter says he saw it all happen?”
“Yes, You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this.” Their mum sounded uneasy, like she had when telling them about how the healers were trying to help Percy. George glanced at Fred, and Fred could easily read the panic in his eyes. He suspected it was reflected in his own.
“Yeah, well, there’s something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that.” Moody cut in, and Fred kind of wanted to punch him. Harry was perfectly well adjusted, for a kid who’d been through what he had.
“Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning.”
“Course he’s worried, the boy’s seeing things from inside You-Know-Who’s snake…obviously Potter doesn’t realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who’s possessing him-” Fred jerked up at the sound of a fumble, and saw Harry holding his extendable ear, looking horrified. After a pause, Harry stood up, shoved the ear back in Fred’s hand, and hurried down the hall.
“Harry!” Ron hissed, before stumbling after him. Fred, George, and Ginny packed the rest of the ears up, and pressed themselves against the opposite wall so it didn’t look like they were eavesdropping.
“Harry’s possessed?” Ginny asked, her voice shaking. Fred suddenly remembered her first year, and wrapped an arm around her.
“We don’t know that,” He soothed. “And if he is, well, it’s not really his fault is it?”
“I know that.” Ginny snapped. “I’ve been possessed by him too, you know-” George flinched at the reminder from next to Fred, and Fred was certain his own reaction wasn’t as stable as he’d have liked. “-but if Harry’s possessed we have to help him! We can’t let him handle this on his own.”
“We won’t,” George promised. The door slammed open, and the three looked up, Tonks and Moody standing above them.
“Where’s Potter?” Moody growled.
“Bathroom!” Fred invented.
“And Ron?” Tonks asked.
“Went with him.” George nodded solemnly. “Probably trying to open another chamber of secrets.”
“We are not!” Ron said hotly, coming back around the corner with Harry. “We just needed to…” He trailed off lamely.
“Poop, obviously.” Fred said. “Was it a big one Ronnie?” Ginny’s shoulders shook with laughter and Fred smirked. Still had it.
“You. Are. The. Worst.” Ron gritted out.
Tonks covered her ears. “I don’t want to hear this.” She decided. “Come on, back home with you lot.”
Christmas was fun, considering the circumstances. Charlie and Bill both got off work, and the four of them started a carol-off with Sirius, testing to see who could sing carols the loudest. Mrs. Black was their judge, whoever got the most swear words thrown at them won. It was a tough game, because a lady such as Mrs. Black swore rarely, but she made an exception for blood traitors it seemed.
Plus, Hermione arrived for Christmas, which was good because Fred rarely saw Ron without her these days. He figured she’d be a regular fixture at Christmases in the future, once she and Ron finally got themselves together. Speaking of…
“Audrey lost her bet.” Fred muttered to George. George grinned at him, clearly pleased they were speaking again.
“That she did.” He agreed. “You want to tell her?”
“Gladly,” Fred leaned past George to peer at their mum. “Mum? Can we floo call Percy and Audrey?”
“Oh, yes, dear, that’s a delightful idea!” Their mum bounded away, and came back with the floo powder, and before long Fred found himself with his face in the fireplace. Neat.
“Audrey?” He called, his head floating in the floo in Percy and Audrey’s living room. He’d never seen it, but it was described in Percy’s letters. Those of them that Fred had read at least. “Percy?”
“Did you seriously call my wife’s name first?” Fred turned and spotted Percy come to a kneeling position on the right side of his face. Audrey took the left side, beaming.
“Hello, Fred! Happy Christmas!”
“Happy Christmas, you’ve lost your bet.” Audrey’s face shifted to confusion, then outrage, and Fred cackled.
Percy snorted. “That you did love.” He grinned at his wife, who sighed and kissed him.
“We’re depending on you darling.” She said. Fred gagged. “Someday you’ll fall in love Fred. I'll laugh.”
“Never!” Fred declared. Percy rolled his eyes. Fred had almost missed that. “How’s Spain?”
“Sunny. How’s Hogwarts?”
“Not sunny.”
“Nice small talk, why haven’t you replied to my letters?”
“I’m in a crisis, you can’t help. Are you okay?”
Percy sighed. “If you’d read my last letter-”
“Crisis, Percy, crisis.”
“You’d know the answer is yes. The curse, nasty dark thing, was removed. Unfortunately my magic was drained from trying to keep me alive, so it wasn’t able to protect me from the stuff magic usually protects you from in the aftermath of long exposure to the cruciatus. I’m still able to perform the same magic I used to, and I get tired less frequently than I did at my worst, but the rest of my magic was sent to keeping me alive, and now stablizing my health and helping me heal. We think it’s too late for the tremors to heal fully. Honestly, it raises a really interesting question about how much our magic actually does, not just visible but also-”
“Percy.” Fred said flatly.
Percy sighed. “I’m okay. Back to you. What do you mean by crisis?”
“Not sure,” Fred said brightly.
“George is worried.”
“Tell him to worry less,” Fred shot back. “Actually, can you? He’s being annoying.”
“I’m going to start being annoying unless you tell me what is going on this instant Fred Weasley.”
“Can’t, Mum wants to talk, bye!” Fred yanked his head out. “Mum! Percy wants to talk to you!”
“Oh, dear!” Fred’s mum beamed. “Bill, talk to your brother while I finish this, will you?”
Bill kneeled beside the fire. “Sure, Mum!” He grabbed Fred’s shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere, I want to talk after this.”
Fred swallowed, waited until Bill’s head was in the fire, and then darted upstairs. He heard Charlie yell at him from below, but he didn’t listen, barreling into his room and climbing into bed. Within seconds, he was pretending to be asleep. They’d never look for him here.
Shockingly, Fred was right, and the next time he saw his family they were hurrying back towards Mungo’s. Bill looked thunderous, but his face was always like that. Charlie looked suspicious, but Fred honestly wasn’t sure how many brain cells he had left, playing with dragons and all. The only one he was really worried about was George, but Fred had been avoiding him brilliantly for months. All he had to do was figure out why he was so panicky all the time, and also why the thought of anything past the end of Christmas break made him want to vomit, and then he’d be able to tell George and all of this would be fixed.
“I told you to wait,” Bill growled.
Fred shrugged. “I was tired. How’s Percy?”
“Worried about you.”
“Common theme.” Fred ducked into their father’s room, putting Ginny as a buffer between him and his older brother’s. She looked suspicious, but because she was the best little sister on the planet she allowed him to.
“Uh oh.” Ginny muttered, reminding Fred why they were there. He glanced at his father. “Dad’s bandages are changed.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Probably not.” Ginny whispered. Sure enough, it didn’t take long before the Weasley kids picked up on the impending explosion from their mother. Remus, surprisingly astute for a non-Weasley, wandered away first, followed shortly by Bill, Charlie, and George. Ron pulled Harry and Hermione out, leaving Ginny and Fred to make their escape. They shut the ward door just in time to hear their mum bellow “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S THE GENERAL IDEA?”
“Nick of time.” Fred said.
Ginny snickered. “You and George always have your timing on point.” She said brightly. “Come on, let’s go spread some Christmas cheer.” She dragged Fred down the hall, and soon they were in the children’s ward. There were some families, but some kids were left all alone. “Oh, Fred!”
“Yeah,” Fred said, reaching into his pocket. He winced. All he had was an extendable ear and untested candy, and he wasn’t giving that to any of these kids. “Er, you go to the sad looking girl I talk to the less sad looking boy?”
“Okay!” Ginny flounced off, joining a young girl wrapped entirely in casts a few beds away. Fred wandered to the corner where a boy was staring out the window, melancholy.
“Happy Christmas.” He offered, awkwardly.
The boy turned to face him. “Happy Christmas.” He said slowly. “Did they send you?”
“Who?”
“The program.”
Fred didn’t ask which program. “Uh, no. No, I’m here on my own.”
“You’re spending Christmas in a hospital. Why would you do that?” The boy looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Fred didn’t blame him.
“Uh, my dad’s here, a few wards over. My family came to visit him. But my mum’s yelling at him right now, so we scattered until she’s done.”
“We?”
“Me and my siblings. Uh, two, well three but one’s in Spain, older brothers, a twin, a younger brother, and a younger sister. She’s over there.” Fred nodded to where Ginny and the girl were talking animatedly.
The boy nodded. “Mel will like the company, she’s short term, so she’s not used to this.”
“And you are?”
“I’m longterm, and my family forgot about me ages ago.” The boy didn’t look any sadder at this than he had at anything else so far. Fred was sad for him.
“Forgot about you?”
“Yes. They come to visit, sometimes, but it’s easier to forget about the dying boy. I don’t blame them, I’d forget if I were them.” The boy looked back out of the window. “Do you ever feel like that? Like you can’t blame people for the way they feel?”
“Not really,” Fred admitted, sinking into a chair beside the boy’s bed. It was dusty. “Uh, my family, they care a lot. I don’t mean that to brag, I really don’t. Sometimes I wish they cared less, would leave me alone to figure stuff out. I’ve been a bad brother, can’t really figure out why they still care, actually.”
“I don’t think it’s possible to be a bad brother.” The boy declared. “Not if you’re still talking to them. Are you?”
“Not really.” Fred said.
“Oh.” The boy stared at him. “Why not?”
“Because they keep asking me what’s wrong, and I don’t know how to answer it.”
“Well, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
“Describe it.” The boy looked unimpressed with Fred’s cheering up skills so far.
Fred struggled to find the words. “It’s like, I don’t know how to feel about anything anymore, even stuff I used to be excited about scares me. And stuff that I know should make me happy doesn’t, which scares me even more. And my chest always feels tight or heavy, or something else not quite right, and I’m not sure how to fix it, and I don’t really want to drag my siblings in so they don’t get hurt.”
The boy nodded. “It’s okay to be scared.” He said finally. “I’m scared all the time, like when I have surgery or when they start a new treatment, or when a treatment stops working. But you gotta keep going, you have to be brave.” The boy paused. “It’s nice you have people who want to help.” He said, a note of longing in his voice. “Nobody wants to help me but the healers anymore.”
“Are you kidding?” Fred laughed. “Those are the best people to help, they know what they’re doing!”
“Not with me.” The boy said. “But I guess you’re right.”
“Yeah, well, you’re more right. What’s your name?”
“Joseph. What’s your name?”
“Fred.” Fred grinned. “Tell me, Joseph, what do you want for Christmas? Maybe Santa will bring it.”
Joseph thought. “I want a way to hear what the healers say about me,” He decided. “So I can find out if I’m dying or not.”
“Well,” Fred said, hope rising in his chest. “I have just the thing for you.” He pulled out the extendable ear. “You have to keep it hidden,” He said. “Because it’s not quite on the market yet. But this is an extendable ear, it should help you hear.” He helped Joseph put it in his ear. “There, try it with Ginny, and uh.”
“Mel.” Joseph did as Fred directed and grinned. “I can hear them!”
“Yeah? What are they talking about?”
Joseph made a face. “Ugh. Boys.” He pulled it back in. “This is awesome, thanks Fred!”
Fred grinned. “I’ll make you a promise. My brother and I, we're opening our shop in a few months. It’ll be full of stuff like that. Get better and come visit and we’ll give some to you, on the house.”
“On the house?”
“That means free.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Joseph paused. “I don’t have very much money, my family spent it all on medical bills.”
“There you go!” Fred laughed. He heard his name from the door, and saw Bill, Charlie, and George standing there. “I have to go, I’ll see you then Joseph.”
“See you then Fred.” Fred hurried towards the door, only stopping to look back once. Joseph was staring at his new extendable ear, something like wonder on his face. Fred sighed. A job well done. Maybe he should consider a career as like a Christmas elf or something, he was really good at this cheering up and Christmas magic thing.