Chapter 8
The new term started, and to Fred’s disappointment (but not surprise), so did his detentions. It was, he mused as he surreptitiously soaked his hand in essence of murtlap out of George’s sight one day, truly miraculous how much Umbridge hated him. Harry had told him he’d never see a teacher have as much of a vendetta against another student as they had against him. Fred was taking it as a compliment.
“Fred?” Fred shoved the essence of murtlap out of sight at the sound of his twin’s voice. George and Lee appeared at the door a few moments later.
“Yeah?” He pretended to be studying their boil candy, they couldn’t figure out how to make the boils go away and George was starting to get irritated by it.
“Oh good, there you are. We just got back from watching practice.” George tossed his bag down on the desk and slid into the chair.
“How was it?”
“Dreadful.” Lee muttered, moving to close the window. “It’s freezing in here, why’s this open?”
Fred paused. “Uh, I was hot.”
George and Lee shared incredulous looks, which Fred did not appreciate. “Fred, it’s the middle of winter.”
“Yeah, well.” Fred shrugged halfheartedly. Lee stared at him, and then at George.
“Your twin, your problem.” He decided finally. George huffled, and Lee changed the subject. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Fred jumped as Lee pointed to the essence of murtlap. Apparently he had not hidden that as well as he thought he did. “Oh. Essence of murtlap.”
“Okay.” Lee rolled his eyes. “Why do you have essence of murtlap?”
“Um,” Fred cast about wildly for an excuse, and his eyes landed on the candy in front of him. “I think it might help with the boils?” He winced as the end of his statement turned upwards into a question. Lee ignored it, but George did not. He stared at Fred, suspicious as ever. Fred stared back.
“Why do you think that?” Lee asked, ignoring the tension.
Fred shrugged again. “A hunch?”
“Let’s try it.” George said abruptly. Fred could tell he was sick of the reminders that Fred wasn’t telling him everything. He could also tell that George thought the murtlap wasn’t going to work, which, to be fair, it probably wouldn’t because Fred made it up.
“Let’s.” Fred handed the murtlap to Lee, who handed it to George, who added a few drops to the unfinished product sitting on their desk. He waved his wand over it, finishing the product off in the quick way they’d discovered a few months ago. It wasn’t good for big batches, but it was fine for testers.
“I’ll try it.” George announced evenly. Fred yelped.
“Now, let’s not be too hasty, it was my idea-”
“You think it’ll work. So I’ll try it.” George stared him right in the eyes, and Fred recognized the look on his face. It was a look that said ‘either you tell me what’s happening right now or I’m going to deliberately put myself in danger to force you too’. Fred swallowed and glanced around the room, finally catching sight of the beozar on the desk behind George.
“Fine.” He said, finally. At least he could save George’s life if this didn’t work.
George, if it was even possible, scowled harder, but he took a bite of the candy. One bite covered him in boils, but the next, to Fred’s complete amazement, removed them entirely.
“It worked?” Lee asked skeptically,
“It worked.” George replied, amazed. Fred said nothing, his mouth agap. “It worked! Nice job Freddie!” George gave him a large hug, which Fred accepted, his jaw dropped.
“Huh,” He said. “It worked.”
“It was your idea! Were you not sure it would?” Lee looked a little horrified, which only meant he was a few minutes behind on Fred and George’s silent argument.
“Not 100%, I mean, we’d tried almost everything.”
“Yeah, well, this time it worked.” Lee shook his head. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ve got detention with the hag.”
Fred winced, thinking of Umbridge’s fury that day when Lee had told her that by her own educational degree she couldn’t tell the twins off. “Good luck. I’ve got mine after.”
“For once, I’m managing to behave.” George grinned.
“Good for you, George.” Lee stuck his tongue out and then vanished. George turned to him.
“You’ve got a letter.” He said evenly. Fred frowned.
“From who?”
“Sirius.”
“Are you serious? I mean, are you joking?” Fred leaned over to accept the letter, tearing it open. “Huh.”
“What’s he want?” George asked.
Fred shook his head. “Uh, he was asking how I’m doing. If I’ve had any more panic attacks.” He read further. “Says he had them a lot, more after the first one. Was wondering if I needed any help.”
“And have you?”
“Have I what? Had more? No.” Fred continued reading, before realizing George hadn’t answered. He looked up to see George’s jaw clenched. “uh-”
“Well forgive me for asking, I wouldn’t know. I don’t ever see you!”
“That’s not true,” Fred tried weakly, but George cut him off.
“It is too! You’re always in detention, or in the library Fred! I never see you!”
“That’s not all my fault! You’re with Angie a lot.”
“So now this is my fault?”
“No, it’s-” Fred took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault. I just- I just need some space, okay?”
“Angelina said you were supposed to talk to me over break.” George folded his arms. “And you didn’t.”
Fred swore, remembering her ultimatum. “Well, break was a bit busy, George!”
“So busy that you couldn’t have a five minute conversation with me?” George was yelling now, which meant that Fred probably had been too. He always matched Fred’s tone.
“I mean, I guess so!”
“We’re not kids anymore Fred, you need to actually tell me stuff if you want me to know it!”
“Well maybe I don’t want you to know! Maybe I don’t want your help.” Even as the words exited Fred’s mouth he realized they were cruel. “Shit, George-”
“No, forget it.” George shook his head. “Fine.” He grabbed his bag again and stormed out. Fred sank down onto his bed, his heart pounding.
“Fred?” Ron was at the door.
“Go away,” Fred flicked his wand, slamming the door in Ron’s face. He buried his face in his pillow and tried not to cry. He’d apologize later, after detention. If George would even accept his apology. He had a feeling he’d well and truly screwed up his relationship with his twin, and at this point, Fred wasn’t sure it was salvageable. Maybe crying was the right thing to do.
“Mr. Weasley, I fear you’ve not gotten the memo.” It was a few weeks after Fred’s fight with George, and life had only gotten worse. He hadn’t managed to find George to apologize after that detention, too exhausted to do anything but sleep. And since then, George had been avoiding him. Even Alicia and Lee were avoiding him, telling him they didn’t want to hear anything until Fred talked to George. Fred had planned on it, honestly, but with Dumbledore leaving and everything he hadn’t found the time, or the words.
“Sorry?” Fred wasn’t sure he’d heard the headmistress correctly. Because apparently Umbridge was in charge of the whole school now. Like he said, everything had gotten worse.
“The memo. About not causing mischief.” Fred strained to remember what he was in detention for now, and smiled when he finally managed it. Dungbombs in the corridors, three weeks ago. And unnecessary sass since then. Fred was pretty sure he was just her punching bag.
“Yeah, I’m not great at listening.” Fred drawled, putting on his best show. She scowled, which meant it was working. “Maybe more detention will help? Probably not though.”
“Yes, I’m thinking the same. You’re remarkably obstinate in the face of correction.” Umbridge picked up her wand, studying Fred like he was a specimen of some sort. “I’m thinking instead of more detention, we change the mode of punishment. See if we can’t sort you out another way.”
“Yeah? What are you thinking? Because the quill hasn’t helped.”
“Something stronger than the quill I believe. This goes beyond school discipline, you’re nearly graduated, if we don’t sort you out now you’ll be a danger to the populace.” Umbridge seemed to be speaking more to herself than to him. “And well, you know Potter well, you can always contain him too.”
“Contain Harry? I won’t be containing Harry!” Fred declared, indignant. “And I won’t be behaving either! You’ll have to beat the bad behavior out of me.”
“Yes,” Umbridge said calmly. “That is rather the plan. No one here can stop me, and Cornelius, well, he’ll understand I had no choice. If he even finds out.” She raised her wand and for the first time Fred felt a flash of fear.
“Finds out about what?” He asked, pushing away from the table. The chair clattered to the ground beside him, and Umbridge just smiled. “Prof-”
“Headmistress.” She corrected. “And he won’t find out about this. Crucio!” She cast the spell, and Fred had just enough time for his heart to leap in his chest before all he felt was pain. He fell to the ground with a loud cry of agony, writhing as he did so. Umbridge held the spell for a minute, before releasing it. She looked thoughtful.
“Well?” She asked. “Do you feel like behaving now?”
“Are you mad?” Fred tried to push himself back up. “That’s illegal!”
“That’s exactly why no one must ever know. Crucio!” She cast it again, and if possible, it was worse the second time. Fred screamed, and for a moment he wondered if anyone could hear him, or if they would even care when they did. Then she released the spell again, looking peeved.
“Do be quiet Mr. Weasley.” She scolded. “Someone might hear.”
“Someone did hear.” Fred glanced up, catching Professor Snape’s eyes with a sob. “Firenze heard someone scream, and came and gathered me to investigate.” Snape drawled. “May I ask what you are doing headmistress?”
Umbridge looked thrown off for a moment, like she hadn’t actually expected to be caught. Fred related to the feeling, he hadn’t actually expected her to cast an unforgivable. “He wasn’t learning.” She said finally. “I had to make him.”
“Yes, he is a rather difficult student, but I still can’t imagine what would make you crucio him.” Snape glided closer, and knelt beside Fred. “My apologies, is that a blood quill?” He reached for Fred’s hands, turning them over. “I see. Those are also illegal, you know Dolores.”
“Yes, well, it’s a quick way to drive the point home.” Umbridge shifted uncomfortable. “Don’t tell me you’ve never felt the urge, Severus.”
“Oh, I have.” Snape said dryly. “I’ve just never acted on it. Up you go Mr. Weasley.” He pulled Fred to his feet, and then supported his when Fred’s knees gave way. “Yes, the cruciatus is rather destabilizing, I imagine it’ll take until tomorrow until you can get your feet under you properly again.” He murmured. “How many times did she cast it?”
“Just twice,” Fred rasped, thinking of Percy. He could tell Snape was too.
“I see, and how long did she hold it for?”
Fred shrugged. “I don’t know,” He said, a little desperately. Snape nodded once.
“How long did you hold it for Dolores?” He directed the question to Umbridge, who sniffed.
“Why do you need to know?”
“Poppy will need to know how much exposure to treat him for,” Snape said firmly. Umbridge gasped.
“You can’t take him there! Then someone will find out I’ve cast it!”
“Yes,” Snape drawled. “That is rather the point. You cast an unforgivable on a student.”
“Oh, he’s an adult, he’ll be a graduate soon.”
“He is still a student.” Snape said. Fred was fairly certain this was the most Snape had supported him, ever.
“And it’s illegal to cast that spell in general, Dolores.” Fred glanced behind him to see McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick, all with their wands out. “But Severus is correct, Mr. Weasley is a student, which makes this crime all the more egregious.”
“He’s an awful student! An awful boy! He deserved it!” Umbridge wailed. “I had to make him behave!”
“No one has ever made the Weasley twins behave, Dolores, it is part of their charm.” McGonagall said firmly. “And I’ve met many worse students than them.” She waved her wand, and Umbridge was bound and gagged very suddenly. “Severus, take Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing, will you? And collect his brother, I imagine he’ll want to see him.”
Fred opened his mouth to express that George probably did not want to see him, but found he couldn’t say a word. His throat had closed up a bit, and with horror, Fred realized he was about to cry. Instead he kept quiet. McGonagall had a look of sympathy, and Fred realized she knew he was about to cry. He stayed silent as Snape dragged him down the halls.
“Of all the foolish things Mr. Weasley,” Snape said as they neared the hospital wing. “Why did you aggravate her?”
“Thought she was awful, not dangerous.” Fred muttered, having gotten his near tears under control. Snape sighed dramatically.
“And why did you not tell anyone about the blood quill?”
“Didn’t think anyone would care.” Fred admitted as Snape slammed the doors open. He was spared Snape’s response by Pomphrey’s scream.
“What happened?” She rushed over, helping Snape ease Fred onto a bed.
“Prolonged exposure to the cruciatus, two rounds of perhaps 20 seconds to a minute each. As well as longterm exposure to a blood quill.”
Poppy grabbed one of Fred’s hands and turned it over with a loud swear. “Mr. Weasley! Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Fred shrugged helplessly, and she didn’t wait for a response in treating him. Snape stood. “I’m going to go retrieve his twin,” He told Poppy. “I imagine he’ll be here shortly.”
“Good.” Poppy said shortly. “There’s not much I can do for cruciatus exposure other than force him to down potions. The hand I can do something about.” She bustled about as Snape left, and Fred wondered how long it would take her to realize George wasn’t coming. They still hadn’t spoken, and Fred was certain this wouldn’t change things.
The hospital wing doors slammed open with a bang, and Fred jumped. He turned to see George standing there, sweat dripping down his forehead. His face screwed up as he caught sight of Fred.
“You idiot!” He yelled, lunging for Fred. Fred gasped as George pulled him into a tight hug. “What is wrong with you?”
“Me?” Fred demanded. “What did I do?”
George didn’t answer, and Fred realized the back of his shirt was wet. “George, are you crying?”
“Of course I’m crying, you dolt!” George pulled back, wiping wildly at his eyes. “You haven’t talked to me in three weeks and all of a sudden Snape bursts into the common room and is telling me I have to go to the hospital wing because Umbridge was torturing you!” He pulled Fred into a hug again.
“Wasn’t that bad,” Fred muttered. George stiffened. “Just a bit of the cruciatus.”
“Just a-” George cut himself off furiously. “Fred!”
“What? I deserved it.”
George pushed Fred away so he could look him in the eyes. “You don’t actually believe that, tell me you don’t believe that!”
“I did,” Fred said, feeling bewildered. “I antagonized her.”
“So? She should’ve given you more detention, not tortured you with an illegal spell!”
“You’re making a big deal out of this, she has been giving me detention, it just wasn’t working. I’ll admit she probably shouldn’t have used an illegal spell, but I can kind of get why she did it.”
George looked like he was going to explode. “And if she’d done it to me? Or Ron? Or Ginny? Would it have been okay then?”
“Of course not!”
“Why’s it different for you then?”
“Because- because I’ve been an awful brother! I’ve been ignoring you and haven’t been telling you stuff and I slammed the door in Ron’s face and I haven’t checked on Ginny and you’ve all been worried for no reason and-” Fred was cut off by George raising his wand. He flinched away from it, ignoring George’s pained intake of air. Instead he looked at his hands in his lap. There was a pause, and then he realized his shirt was purple.
“Did you just turn my shirt purple?” He demanded. George tossed his wand to the bedside table.
“You were thinking too much.” He said, reminding Fred of their conversation at Christmas. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Fred’s. “Fred- it’s not okay that she did that to you. You’ve been a bit of a bad brother, sure, but I’m not winning any awards either. And you slammed the door in Ron’s face after we fought. I’m pretty sure I almost pushed Ron down the stairs that day. You’ve been weird, and we’ve been worried, yeah, but that doesn’t make you a bad person and that doesn’t mean you deserved to be tortured for it.”
Fred nodded slowly. His eyes were burning and he squeezed them shut, feeling a few tears escape. George carefully wrapped his arms around him again, and Fred burst into sobs.
“Shit, Freddie, I’ve got you, it’s okay.” George’s grip tightened around him and Fred buried his face in his brother’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry-” He wailed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” He cut himself off when speaking and crying got too hard. George just sat there, muttering platitudes under his breath as Fred cried himself out.
“Are you good?” He asked, after Fred’s sobs had demoted themselves to sniffles. Fred nodded. “Good.” He pulled back. “If you stop talking to me for more than an hour again I’ll tie you down and force you to tell me what’s going on. Speaking of-” George was cut off by Poppy coming back in.
“Oh good,” She said. “You seemed like you need a good cry. For your hand.” She placed a bowl of something on the table next to George’s wand. It looked like murtlap essence mixed with something else.
“For his what?” George demanded. “What’s wrong with his hand?”
“For the blood quill scars,” Poppy seemed thrown off by George not knowing. “I thought he told you everything.”
“For the what?” George was yelling by the end of his sentence, and he turned to Fred with fury in his eyes. Fred’s eyes widened, and he tried to shove his hand away. George wrestled it away from him, reminding Fred that while he was the fast twin, George was the strong one. George also turned out to be the twin with the worst language, as the spew of swears that came out of his mouth at the sight of Fred’s hand would’ve made Charlie’s worst dragon training friends blush.
“I’m going to kill her.” He growled. Fred snatched his hand away and dunked it in the potion Poppy had brought.
“I’m afraid she’s already been arrested.” Poppy told him. “Although that would’ve been a good show. Aurors came through the floo a few minutes ago.”
“She’ll go to Azkaban for this, right?” George demanded. Fred squawked in horror.
“Now wait a minute-”
“Oh, almost definitely.” Poppy hummed as she checked Fred’s hand. “Well, this is all I can do for you I’m afraid. If you’d like to take the bowl and go, you may choose to recover in your dorm instead of here. I’m afraid they’ll be bringing Umbridge through shortly, and I imagine you don’t want to be here for that.”
“No!” Fred slid out of the bed, holding his left hand in the bowl as he picked it up with his right. George leaned over to grab his wand, and then wrapped an arm around Fred’s shoulder. Fred would protest, but he did feel a bit unsteady on his feet. “Thank you!”
“Come get that checked out tomorrow.” She called after Fred and George. George tugged Fred down the hall towards Gryffindor tower.
“Oh, just a heads up-” He said as they got closer. “Um, Alicia, Angelina, Lee, and Katie were all with me when Snape came in. I uh, I didn’t stick around to see how they reacted.”
Fred winced. He would make a comment about how they were all pissed with him, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t be well received by George and he really didn’t want to be yelled at again. Instead, they stepped into the portrait and were greeted by the sound of Lee and Angelina yelling at Snape.
“Well is he okay?” Angelina demanded furiously.
Snape looked bored. “I do hope so,” He drawled. “Look on the bright side Ms. Johnson, Mr. Weasley’s impulsive and stupid actions got the headmistress fired, which means you can have your beaters back.”
“I don’t want them back if that means one of them got tortured!” Angelina shrieked. Fred sighed.
“I’m fine.” He called across the common room. The crowd turned from watching the Snape vs. Lee and Angelina show to face him and George. He elbowed George in the side, but George resolutely did not release him.
“Oh good,” Snape drawled. “You survived. How…thrilling.” He turned to Angelina and Lee. “Interrogate them, not me. Five points from Gryffindor each. For yelling at a professor.” He swept past Fred and George and out the portrait door. There was a pause in which the common room was silent, and then everyone started yelling. Fred blinked, overwhelmed.
“Hey!” Hermione stood on a table and set off a flash bang charm. The room feel silent again. “If your name isn’t Weasley, Jordan, Johnson, Bell, or Spinnet, go to your dorms! Leave Fred in peace.”
There was mild grumbling, but Hermione glared down at anyone who tried to protest. Ron stared at her with stars in his eyes. “You know you’re not who I meant, Edward Johnson.”
Eddie Johnson, a plucky fourth year, sighed dramatically but scurried upstairs. Hermione hopped down from the table, grabbed Harry’s arm, and vanished up the stairs with only a call of “feel better soon Fred!” over her shoulder. Fred blinked, no longer feeling overwhelmed.
George let out a low whistle. “Ron, you better marry that girl.” He told their brother.
“Yeah,” Ron said dreamily. Fred choked. “Wait, no! I don’t like her!”
“We’ll unpack that later,” Ginny stalked over to Fred. “What happened?” Her eyes were piercing, and Fred had the feeling Snape had already told them everything, and she would kill him if he left anything out. With a sigh, he decided it was better to start from the beginning.
“Let’s sit down.” He said. “It’s kind of a long story.”