A/N: So, it's edited and I didn't actually change all that much. When I finally re-read it, I actually liked it. I have changed bits and pieces and I've checked my SPaG (but please if you see any mistakes, feel free to point them out) but it's mainly the same
I've adjusted the ages of the Weasley children. I've spread them out a little. Nothing major but you may notice some discrepancies. I just want you to know they are all meant to be like that.
Please enjoy, and let me know what you think.
The woods were a scary place. George wasn't one to get scared but the woods, yeah they were scary. The Forest of Dean was no different, even if it was, technically, called a forest.
"Come on George! I know I saw it around here somewhere."
Ten year old George looked ahead to his brother, his twin brother. Fred didn't get scared, even of the woods. His brother was as brave as he wished to be. Fred wasn't scared of anything.
"Oi, what's taking you so long?"
"Just . . . thinking," George replied.
His brother gave him a look and started walking again.
"Well stop it! It's not good for your health." Fred called over his shoulder and then started to hum.
George smiled and shook his head but he did follow his brother. "Why are you so cheerful anyway?" He asked when he couldn't stand listening to his brother hum anymore.
"The sun's shining; the birds are singing. What's not to be cheerful about?"
George rolled his eyes but his smile did widen. George was pretty cheerful himself, though not for the same reason. He really couldn't wait to prove his brother wrong. Honestly, houses made from candy don't exist, it's not possible. What happens when it rains?
George watched his brother look around an empty clearing with a smug smirk on his face. He could hear the confusion in his brother's mumbles which just made his victory so much sweeter.
"I told you, it doesn't exist."
"Shut up George. I know it's somewhere..." Fred trailed off into mumbles again.
George shook his head and wandered away from his brother slightly. He didn't go far, they were still in the woods, but he wanted to explore a bit, as long as I don't leave the clearing.
Walking towards the edge of the clearing, George heard a strange scuffling noise, like an animal would make, only larger. Tensing he stepped back, no need to investigate alone after all. Before he could move further away, an old woman stumbled out of the bushes and George laughed to himself nervously.
She was a little woman, stooped at the shoulders; her hair was short and white. She was wearing a long, green, travelling cloak like the ones their mother and father owned, only, it looked older (a hard thing to do as the Weasley's travelling cloaks were hand me downs from three generations ago) and she was wearing no shoes, which was why her feet were covered in dirt. All in all, she looked like an everyday, poor, old lady except that her eyes were sad, like there was nothing left in the world for her.
"Who's this?" Fred said from behind, joining him in his observation.
George, who had been focusing on the old woman, jumped half a mile and then glared at his brother when he started laughing. "Don't do that," George said.
"Is that you Terry?"
Both boys turned to the old woman again. She was staring at them with an odd look of recognition that freaked George out. Glancing to Fred, he saw a thoughtful frown on his face and George sighed in exasperation, another mystery, another quest.
"Terry?" The woman's voice was weak, almost sounding broken. It was a little, well; creepy was the word George wanted to use but his mother taught him to be nice.
"My name's Fred, this is my brother, George. We don't know a Terry." Fred said, startling George again.
The woman's eyes became sad. "I'm sorry gentlemen–"
George shot a look to Fred and mouthed the word gentlemen. Fred shrugged his shoulders with a satisfied smile and George just rolled his eyes.
"I should know you're not Terry, I just hope. You sound much like him, you know."
Fred and George shared another look and, as one, moved towards the lady, helping her to sit on the ground. She looked like she was going to fall over.
"What's your name, ma'am?" George asked, adding the title automatically.
The woman looked up, but she seemed to look past him, maybe blind. "You can just call me Angelia, thank you both for your help."
"It's no problem, ma'am." Fred said.
George could see his restlessness. He, obviously, wanted to continue to search for the house made from candy but his mother's teachings wouldn't let him leave the woman alone.
"What are two young boys like you doing in the woods on your own?" The woman asked after an extended silence.
The brothers shared another look and George shrugged, leaving it up to Fred to answer.
"We're looking for a house."
"Just any house?" She looked confused.
"No, a house made of candy. I saw it yesterday on my way home. I want to find it again."
"You can't!"
The brothers jumped at the harshness in the woman's voice, the panic.
"Why can't we?" Fred demanded.
George sighed, great, now he's going to find it just to prove her wrong.
The woman shifted her eyes to the ground, her body tense under their hands, "you just can't, trust me."
"We don't know you, lady and if we want to find the house made from candy, we will." Fred removed his hand from her upper arm and walked away, into the woods.
George sighed and turned to the lady. She was biting her lip and a tear dropped from her eye. George felt instantly guilty on his brother's behalf for upsetting the woman but he didn't say anything. Instead, he stood, intending to follow his brother into the woods.
The woman gripped his arm tightly, causing him to wince and suspicion started to seep in. "Don't go, please."
George frowned, "I'm sorry, ma'am but he's my brother. Where he goes, I go." George stood up, shook of her surprisingly strong grip and raced after his brother. Hopefully he didn't get too far away.
George eventually found his brother walking far ahead of him. His face was determined and George tried not to roll his eyes, again. Catching up, he stopped Fred's walk and looked him in the eye.
"You were extremely rude to that woman."
"There was a conflict of opinions."
"Right, whatever, can we go home now? It's starting to get dark."
Fred turned to his brother, his smile causing a glare to automatically form on George's face. "Are you afraid, George?"
"No, don't put me in the same category as little Ronnie."
"Okay, if you say so. Come on, we have to be close. I know it's around here, somewhere."
George chose to not dignify that answer with a response and followed his brother further into the woods. He took a glance and the sky and bit his lip, sunset wasn't far off.
A loud explosion rocked the small shack. The mother of seven automatically suspected her young set of twins, as normal, until she remembered their disappearance earlier this morning. Looking outside, she realised they had been gone almost all day. Refusing to worry until she sorted out the immediate problem, namely, the explosion, she headed upstairs to investigate. She found her youngest son, covered in dirt, inside the missing twin's bedroom.
"Oh, Ron honey. What happened?"
Ron looked down, refusing to answer.
"Did you mess with their stuff again?"
Ron still didn't speak but that was enough of an answer for the experienced mother.
"What have we told you about that? Every child in this house has a right to their own privacy. You need to respect that rule."
Seven-year-old Ron nodded and wandered into the bathroom to clean up. He gave up arguing over the use of booby traps over two years ago, it never got him anywhere.
Molly Weasley watched her youngest son wander away and then looked outside again. It was starting to get dark, where were Fred and George?
"Molly dear, I'm home."
Molly smiled and went to greet her husband with a kiss. Ginny, her youngest child and only girl, was already in her dad's arms by the time Molly arrived.
"Where are the others?" Arthur asked.
"Bill is still at work. Charlie and Percy are in the barn checking on the animals for the evening and Ron is cleaning up in the bathroom. He tried to go through the twin's room again."
Arthur smiled and shook his head while five-year-old Ginny giggled. "Where are the twins?" When Arthur saw his wife's frown he put Ginny down. "What's wrong?"
"The twins went out into the forest today, they have yet to return."
Arthur frowned but it was still light out, it wasn't time to worry yet.
"They'll be back soon, you'll see."
Molly nodded, although she still looked worried, she plastered a smile on her face.
"You're right. How was work?"
Arthur scowled and opened his mouth to answer when he looked down at Ginny who was watching them with her own frown. "Sweetie, could you go get Charlie and Percy from out the back please?"
"Okay, daddy," she said, skipping to the backyard.
Once Ginny was out of sight, Arthur turned back to his wife. "I was called into Lucius' office again today."
"Why?"
"Apparently, I'm not working fast enough. It doesn't matter that I produce the best product, in the end, it's not good enough. He said, and I'm quoting here, 'you may be a Weasley but I expect even the bottom feeders to work harder than you are. If you don't pick up your act, you will no longer have the opportunity to waste my time.' I was speechless."
Molly had brought a hand up, covering her mouth. How could someone say that? "What did you do?" she asked in a whisper.
Arthur sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "I may have punched him."
"Arthur," she scolded, but her heart wasn't in it.
"He was asking for it. It's the third time this week he's called me into his office to insult me, not to mention his brat was picking on Ron in class the other week, in the classroom." Arthur glared at the ground, frustrated. "That whole family is evil."
"Arthur, don't say that." This time she sounded serious.
"Sorry, I know it's not Draco's fault and Narcissa isn't too bad, it's just that man."
Molly nodded in agreement, refusing to defend the man. "So, did you lose your job?" Molly already knew the answer but she was praying for a miracle, they needed the money to eat.
Arthur' shoulders slumped, "of course, he's been looking for a reason to fire me since he took over." Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, "I'm sorry Molly, I'll find another job, I promise."
"It's okay," it wasn't but she understood the position Arthur had been in. She knew if it was her, she would have lost her temper long ago. "We'll be okay."
They stood in silence for a while, each lost in thought, until they heard back door open and Ginny's excited chatter. They both plastered a fake smile on their face but Molly couldn't help but glance towards the forest again, looking for her troublesome twins.
Arthur noticed and placed a hand over her shoulder. He couldn't deny his own worry but he ignored it, pulling Molly closer. "Don't worry, they're probably just messing around and forgot the time. They'll be back soon with a well thought out lie and matching cheeky grins."
Molly smiled and snuggled into her husband's warmth. "You're probably right. They're grounded when they get home."
Neither could ignore the pit of worry in their stomach.
The sun is setting. It's almost dark. George really wanted to go home. If the woods were scary during the day -which, they were- then they were downright terrifying at night.
"Fred, come on. Can we go home? Please?"
"No."
George barely heard the annoyance in his brother's voice, too busy glancing around the menacing shadows. "We can come and look tomorrow, I promise. Please, I want to go home and I'm hungry."
"We can't go tomorrow; we're going to be grounded after being out this late."
Well, George thought, can't argue with that.
"Fred, please can we-"
"George."
The excited whisper interrupted George's next attempt at persuasions, because it wasn't begging. Nope, George Weasley does not beg.
"George, come here. Look!"
Despite himself, George was curious. Surely he hadn't found it, it didn't exist. Except, there it was, a house made from candy. George's mouth fell open, his fear forgotten for the moment, no way.
"I told you it was real," Fred breathed out.
A distant part of George's mind realised that Fred was in just as much shock as he was but the thought didn't stay long. He was too focused on the house made of candy.
"Let's go have a closer look."
With those words, all of George's fear rushed back but it was muted somehow. He didn't want to protest, he couldn't. He wanted to see the house. "Okay," George said against his better judgement.
They snuck forward slowly, being careful to stay quiet in case the occupants of the house came out to yell at them. It didn't take them long to reach the edge of the gate. Looking closely, they could see all the different assortments of sweets.
"Gingerbread walls."
"Liquorice window frames."
"Frosting."
"Candy canes."
"Jelly beans."
The list went on; everywhere the boys looked a new sweet was discovered. Different colours, different flavours, different sized, it was a ten year olds dream. It was Fred that took the first bite.
"George, you have to try this."
George wanted to say no, wanted to tell his brother to stop but the sweets looked so good. Nodding his head, he took a swipe of the frosting and stuck his finger in his mouth. It was divine. This is the best thing I've ever eaten.
They stuffed their faces. There was no other way to describe the way they ate the house. They tried to stick to the garden but it didn't take them long to break off a bit of the walls. Then, all was fair game. George wasn't sure about his brother but there was a niggling feeling of guilt inside him. He was eating someone's house, after all, but it wasn't powerful enough to make him stop. Someone clearing their throat directly behind the boys was.
Both boys spun around at an unnatural speed, dropping anything in their hands. In front of them an old lady, similar to the one they met earlier. She was standing behind them. Her arms were crossed and one white eyebrow was raised. In her hands, a small, cane basket was filled completely with green plants.
"What are you two doing?"
George looked at the woman with wide eyes, he couldn't speak. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fred in a similar predicament.
"Were you eating my house?"
"Umm..."
"Well..."
"We are so sorry!" They said together.
They lowered their heads in shame. I ate someone's house, George thought, how could I do that?
With their heads lowered, they couldn't see the glee that appeared on the old woman's face. She kept the silence going for a long time, tapping her foot slowly. Each tap she had the pleasure of watching the young boy's shoulders hunch lower. "You boys look half starved, are you hungry?"
Looked up at the unexpected words, the boys exchanged a look. They weren't starved exactly but sweets were a rare occurrence in the Weasley household. They didn't have the money. George shrugged one shoulder and lowered his head again. It was up to Fred to speak.
"Umm... no, that's okay Ma'am. We need to get home."
George nodded, his eyes still focused on the ground.
"Oh don't be silly. It's late, you'll get lost. I'll give you some dinner and you can go home in the morning, how does that sound?"
Fred hesitated and George looked up again to lock eyes with his brother. The lady made a good point, it was late, they could get lost but their mother would be so mad when then did get home tomorrow.
"I have cake, too much for me to eat."
Well, the boys thought together, it's not like mother won't be mad already. A few more hours couldn't hurt, right?
Watching those two young boys walk towards danger and not being able to do anything about it was heartbreaking. She couldn't do anything to stop them; she heard the determination in the first boy's voice and anyway, she wasn't fast enough or nimble enough to catch them.
Looking around the blurry clearing, she realised that the sky was starting to darken. She couldn't help but think about those boys. I need to do something. A rustling nearby pulled her eyes to a nearby bush which held a family of rabbits.
Family.
Like a bolt of lightning, an idea hit her. I'll find the family home, I'll tell the mother. Decision made, she pulled herself from the cold grass, slowly, and stared around the clearing. Which way?
Shrugging her shoulders, she started off in the opposite direction the children went, one step at a time. Let's hope it doesn't take too long to find the home.
The inside of the house was just as spectacular. There was gingerbread chairs and tables, candy canes kept them standing. There was a couch made with a white soft candy, that the boys recognised from candy shop window and there was a bed made of cotton candy (they knew the name of that stuff thanks to Bill, who bought some when he first started working). There were bright colours everywhere and the boys couldn't stop smiling.
"Dinner, boys."
Sitting down, on gingerbread seats, the boys waited for a bowl of broth and bread, or a plate of home grown vegetables. What they received made they smiled widen and their mouths water.
"I don't cook anything but sweets so I hope the fruit pudding is okay. It has fruit in it, that's healthy."
"That's fine." The twins said.
Fred picked up his fork and began eating straight away, moaning at the taste. George said a quick thank you to the old lady and also tucked in. Both puddings were finished within moments and their plates were soon replaced by another plate full of cakes.
"These are called Tiramisu. They're an Italian cake, I enjoy making exotic food."
The boys ate and ate until they could eat no more. By this stage, both boys were swaying in their seats, sick to the stomach and ready for bed.
"I only have two beds and I need one for myself. Would you boys mind sharing that bed over there?" The lady asked, pointing to the previously mentioned cotton candy bed. Delirious from sugar overload and completely wiped out, the boys wouldn't have argued if they were asked to sleep on the floor. As it was, the bed looked extremely comfortable and smelled really nice so they both eagerly nodded their heads and stumbled over to the bed. They were asleep before they could smell the candy, neither knowing what awaited them in the morning
It was dark outside. It was the time for children to be in bed, kitchens clean and parents locking up the house. The Weasley family was no different, except for the fact that two of the children's beds were empty.
"Where are they?" Molly whispered. She was standing in the doorway of their home, her husband behind her.
"I don't know," Arthur whispered. He too was staring out into the woods, his arms wrapped tightly around his wife, as much to comfort himself as it was to comfort her. He knew their other children were worried, all but Ginny as she was too young to understand. Bill and Charlie continually glanced outside and Percy's finger tapped the table all through dinner, a sure sign of his fear. Ron kept glancing at the spot the twins were meant to sit warily, like he was waiting for them to jump out. Molly and Arthur could see the suppressed hope which showed that's exactly what he wanted to happen. It was a subdued dinner.
"We should be out there, looking for them," Molly said after an extended silence. She was starting to panic, they could be hurt, or in danger. They're probably so scared.
"We can't. You know we can't. We have five other children to think about and we would be no help to them if we also became lost."
Molly nodded her head but they both knew she didn't agree. If Arthur was honest with himself, he didn't agree either.
"They'll be okay," he whispered. "They have to be."
The night was becoming cold but the woman didn't stop. She couldn't, she knew the fate of those two boys and she would do everything in her power to prevent it from happening again. She only had to think about the mother who would be frantic with worry, the father desperate to search but not willing to leave the family. The boys, the poor boys.
One.
Two.
Left.
Right.
I can't stop now.
The morning was a bright one. The sky was clear and the temperature was perfect, it was a rare day and one that should be taken advantage of. Unfortunately, no one was in a position to enjoy the perfect day.
A family missing two members were searching the woods, calling the names of the missing. An old woman walked a path, head down, with one goal in mind and two small children woke from an unimaginable dream into a nightmare.
"Get up!"
George startled awake at the ear-piercing shriek. It took him a few moments to re-orientate himself and by that time a stick was being banged against some iron bars. George's eyes snapped open at that thought and he looked around the room. He realised he was locked in a cage which was approximately two meters long, wide and tall. There was a slab of concrete, assumingly a bed, and a small bucket which George didn't want to think about. Fred was a few meters away on the other side of the bars. His arms were chained above his head and he was struggling against them. His eyes were wild, scaring George more than anything else ever had before.
Looking around, he saw the same house he enjoyed a sweet dinner in yesterday, but different. The gingerbread chairs were rotten, the couch was mouldy and the bed which they slept in was a slab of cement, just like the one in the cage. There were no colours anymore, except for a dirty yellow which stained most of the furniture.
The most shocking, and terrifying change to the room was a large oven against one wall that use to be bare. It was big enough to fit a large dog, or a small child. George paled at the realisation. Please, no.
"I said get up!" The words were emphasised with a hard smack on the arm with a long stick.
Barely hearing Fred's enraged shout, George fell to the ground, not expecting the violence, and turned his eyes to the voice. Recognising the old lady which fed them last night, George barely suppressed a shiver. Why is she doing this?
"Stop shouting boy, you're hurting my ears." The woman spoke to Fred; it just made him shout louder. "Stop it or your brother gains another lovely bruise."
Fred was silenced almost instantly and George cringed away from the woman, closing his eyes.
"Now, both of you; open your eyes and listen to me."
Not daring to disobey, George stood up again, opened his eyes and the twins focused their attention on the woman. George noticed something he didn't notice yesterday. She wasn't looking directly at him, like she knew where he was, but couldn't see him. She was blind, or close to it. George stored this information away to use later.
"Here is what's going to happen. You-" pointing in the general direction of the cage, assumingly, she was pointing at George, "-will do nothing but eat."
What?
"Whatever we cook, you eat." She walked towards him and stabbed the stick, which was still in her hand, onto his chest. She leaned in close, her putrid breath brushing over his face, causing him to cringe away, this time in disgust. "Do you understand?" She whispered.
George nodded frantically; he just wanted her to move away. Apparently, nodding wasn't good enough. The stick was pulled back and then slammed into his stomach, hard. George doubled over, closing his eyes and groaning in pain, gasping for air. He could hear his brother shouting at the woman and the woman shouting back. Then something was slammed against George's back, he assumed the stick, and he collapsed to the ground again.
"If you don't shut up, I'll hit him again."
George tried to push himself from the ground but didn't manage to get far before he fell again. He felt, and smelt, rather than saw the woman lean close.
"When I ask a question, I expect a verbal answer. Do you understand?"
"Yes," George managed to say.
"Yes, Ma'am, you will address me properly."
There was a pause and George realised she was waiting for an answer. Not wanting to get hit again, though he hated the idea of giving this woman respect, he spat out, "yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Now, where were we?" She moved away from George and he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Finally opening his eyes he immediately saw his twin and George mouth opened slightly in shock. Fred was staring at him, pure misery written all over his features and tears steadily falling from his eyes. Fred never cries, hasn't since he was a baby. George could feel his own eyes well up at the sight but he didn't have time to think about that as the woman started talking again.
"Ah, yes. You will eat what you're given and you-" she pointed to Fred, "-will help me cook."
Both the boys stared at her. She's going to unchain him?
"You will, of course, be chained to the wall by your ankle but you will be able to manoeuvre around the kitchen."
It was a little disappointing to hear that Fred would still be chained but he definitely had more freedom than George did. He may be able to find a way to escape. Looking at Fred, George realised he was on the same train of thought.
"You will be chained back up at night like you are now. You will be cooking your brother's food so don't try anything stupid, like poisoning it, because I won't be the one to eat it. I'll eat once all the ingredients are ready."
I don't like the sound of that.
"Is everything clear?"
"Yes, Ma'am," George said automatically, knowing the punishment if he didn't.
Fred hesitated until the woman raised the stick slightly. "Yes, Ma'am," he said.
"Good, we start now."
Placing a chain around Fred's ankle, she unchained his arms and showed him around the kitchen, a twisted picture of a mother and her son. How were they going to get out of this?
Molly didn't return to her family's house until she could no longer see the ground in front of her feet. Having left just after dawn, the family had been out in the forest all day, searching for the missing ten year olds, and finding nothing. Molly approached the house; her shoulders slumped, feeling like she was giving up. I'm not giving up, just waiting until I can see again.
She reached the front door but found it near impossible to enter the house. Her babies were still out there, alone for another night. They would be scared, hungry and possibly hurt. There were wild animals and evil witches in the forest. It was no place for a child at the best of times, but especially at night. This is my fault. I shouldn't have let them go that day.
Molly collapsed on the front step and her shoulders shook. She was crying, she had been all day, but this was different. She was doing something before, she can't now. She can't do anything for another few hours. I want them back home, with me.
The front door opened but she didn't notice. She sobbed and cried and, when hands grabbed her shoulders, she fought them.
"Mum, it's me, It's Bill."
When the person's voice finally penetrated her mind and she recognised it, her body sagged, exhausted.
"Come on mum, you need sleep."
Molly, upon hearing that, pushed away from her eldest gently and walked into the house, where she came across an old woman sleeping on the couch.
"Who's this?" Molly was instantly concerned when she saw the pale face, blue lips and bleeding feet.
"Not sure," Bill said from behind her, "Charlie came across her unconscious by a tree. It looks like she's been walking all day and all last night."
"Has she woken at all?"
"No, not yet but she seems to be dreaming. She keeps mumbling about a house made of candy."
Molly smiled at hearing that, it sounded like this woman possessed a child's soul. "She can stay, we don't have much but I won't leave an old woman to die." She looked around and realised, for the first time, that Bill was the only other member of the family in the room. "Where are the others?"
"Dad's trying to settle Ginny and Ron. Ginny won't stop crying and Ron won't speak. He hasn't spoken a word since him and Percy arrived back a few hours ago. Charlie is outside with the animals. They needed caring for and working with them calms Charlie down. I've been tending to her."
Bill said, he was looking anywhere but at Molly and she realised why pretty quickly. He was trying not to cry. Bill, although already working and very mature for his age, was still only seventeen years old, still a child in many ways. "Come here honey." Molly said, opening her arms.
Bill practically flew into his mother's arms and tucked his head into the crook of her neck. There, he let himself cry for the first time.
Molly felt her own tears fall but ignored them. She stroked the back of Bills head softly. "We'll find them, it will be okay. I promise."
Bill only shook his head, "you can't know that."
Molly pulled her eldest tighter against her body. "Your right, I can't but I can hope."
George was bored and he was tired and he was feeling very sick. Looking around the dimly lit room, his eyes automatically sought out his brother. Fred, who had been cooking all day, was slumped against the bed, arms chained above his head, asleep. George watched him sleep, comforted in the knowledge that his brother was here, alive.
It didn't take the twins long to figure out that they'd been caught by an evil witch. Their mother told stories about evil witches but they never thought they would meet one. She was a cruel woman, hitting Fred whenever he didn't work fast enough and hitting George whenever Fred misbehaved. It was exhausting being on guard all the time. Even now, George was finding it extremely hard to relax, even though the witch was asleep.
He was worried about his brother. It wasn't just the physical abuse that they were both suffering, Fred was being starved. He would cook for George and George would eat it, then, he would cook some more. At the end of the day, the last meal cooked, Fred asked if he could eat some. Bad idea. She slapped him across the face and then, once he was on the ground, kicked him in the stomach, hard. George cried out, causing the attention to be shifted to him. The beating that they both received taught then a very important lesson, don't speak unless spoken to. George was worried about how long his brother would last without food.
George lay back on the cold slab and tried to sleep but he was feeling too sick. He wanted to throw up but didn't want to know the punishment for that. He knew what she was doing. She was fattening him up, preparing him to be eaten. George didn't like to think about that but it was the truth. He wasn't sure why she wanted to eat children, and didn't really want to know either, but all the facts pointed to that result. He just wanted to go home.
A pained groan pulled George out of his thoughts. "Fred?" George could see the shape he knew to be Fred moving. Only another groan answered him. George shifted his sore body until he was sitting up, annoyed at how long it took. By the time he was sitting, he could see Fred's eyes in the dim light of the moon.
"Fred?"
"George." Fred sounded awful; his voice was rough and weak.
"How are you doing?" George realised he didn't sound much better.
"I'm okay, how are you?"
"I'm okay."
They sat in silence for a while, both of them knowing the other way lying. A shudder ran through Fred's body and then the tears came. "I'm so sorry George, I'm so- so-"
"Stop it, this isn't your fault." George did not want his brother blaming himself, not when they were both equally to blame.
"But it is, I insisted we come searching for the house. I forced you to continue looking even though it was getting dark. I was the first one to eat from the house. It's all my fault."Fred dissolved into sobs and George couldn't stand to hear them.
"I could have said no, I could have turned us around. I could have stopped you from eating the house. If this is your fault, it's also mine." George could feel tears threatening to fall but he wouldn't let them fall. Fred needed him to be the strong one for once. Fred needed someone unafraid and George wasn't going to let him down.
"We'll get out of this, I know we will."
Fred's sobs started to lessen as he heard the determination in George's voice.
George, taking that as a good sign, continued speaking. "You'll think of a brilliant plan and I will fix all the details you miss."
Fred let out a watery chuckle.
"Then we will execute this brilliantly perfect plan and get away. Then we will go home to Ron-"
"-and Charlie-" Fred interrupted and George smiled.
"-and Bill-"
"-and Percy-"
"-and Ginny-"
"-and dad-"
"-and mum." They finished together, smiling at each other. The smiled didn't last long.
"We'll get out of here Fred, I swear it."
Night went by and the twins spent the night talking; discussing plans of escape but nothing was panning out in their favour. They usually ended up dead. Another two nights went past and the twins were still captives. The days moved along in the same fashion; eat, eat, eat for George and work, work, work for Fred. Each night the boys would work on a plan and each morning they would wake up with nothing.
"Get up!" The witch screeched. The boys, having fallen asleep not long before, groaned but rose from the bed. They learned the first morning what happens if they don't wake up quick enough. Fred stood by the wall and waited to be unchained while George stood at the edge of the cage, arms straight in front of him, waiting for the witch's inspection.
This morning was different, the room looked, cleaner. Not much, but there was a certain tidiness to the room that wasn't there before. The witch hobbled over to George and roughly grabbed his arms, feeling up and down the length of them both.
"Perfect," she said, a sinister grin on her face.
George felt a ball of ice drop into his stomach, they were out of time.
"Now boys, I have a guest coming over today. We will be sharing a meal."
George couldn't contain his terror and looked for his brother's reassurance. Seeing his fear reflected on Fred's face didn't help him one bit.
The witch walked over to Fred and unchained him from the wall like normal. She directed him to the kitchen and got him cutting up some vegetables.
Within the hour, the twins knew what was happening today. The witch brought out a large cook book titled Cooking Kids and was currently reading through a recipe for baked boys. Neither wanted to see the picture she kept glancing to.
"Why George?"
Both George and the witch turned to stare at Fred. His head was bowed but he was looking up through his eyelashes. He was submissive but curious. George looked over to the witch, trying to judge how she would take the question and was surprised to see the glee on her face.
"I was wondering when you would ask that question boy." She paused to place the cookbook in a place she could read it without getting food on it. "I chose that one because he was polite the first night. A polite, sweet boy when living is even sweeter when dead. I like things sweet.
Both boys paled and the words. For George, every thought, every theory had just been confirmed. He was going to be eaten and all because he was polite and said thank you. If I ever get out of this alive, I'm never using my manners again.
The witch turned back to her cookbook and started humming. George could see Fred as he cut up some carrots. He was wearing his thinking face. George chose to take this as a good sign.
After hours of preparation, the with instructed Fred to prepare the oven, pulling the door open wide as it was too large for a ten-year-old boy to open easily. The witch turned, slowly and faced George, a manic gin on her face and a key in hand.
"It's time to cook the main ingredient."
The small family didn't sleep well, or, for some, at all. Molly stayed by the woman's side, tending to her wounds, mending her clothes and cleaning off as much dirt as possible. Arthur was slumped in a nearby chair asleep, a small furrow between his eyebrows showing his worry, even in sleep.
When the sun rose, so did the family and they were all, except for Ginny and Percy, who stayed behind to look after the woman, were out searching the forest for the twins. By nightfall, the family returned empty handed and more depressed than the last time. Another sleepless night and another busy day. By the third night, the family was starting to think they weren't ever going to find them.
The fourth morning since the twins went missing; the woman woke for the first time.
Molly watched as awareness came to the woman, she was fragile and looked like she was about to fall over when she didn't recognise the house.
"Hey, it's okay. My name is Molly; one of my sons found you unconscious in the forest a few days ago and brought you here to rest. What's your name?"
The woman didn't answer, she tried to stand but fell back down in pain when her feet touched the ground.
"Careful, you injured your feet pretty badly walking around with no shoes on."
"I have to leave, I have to find someone."
"Who do you have to find? Maybe I can help." Molly couldn't help but glance at the clock, she wanted to get out and search again but she wouldn't leave this woman alone when she was confused and scared. Molly, out of the corner of her eye, saw the rest of the family approaching and waved them away. They didn't move but they didn't come any close to Molly let them be.
"I have to find, umm... the mother, yes, the mother and the father and the family." The woman nodded to herself like her words made sense and stared at Molly expectantly.
"Which family?" Molly could feel her heart starting to beat faster but she refused to hope, not yet.
"The family of the boys, the boys that went to search for the candy house."
Molly's heart was almost beating out of her chest and she could see her family leaning forward, small, hopeful smiled on their faces. "These boys, were they twins? Did they look to be about ten years old?"
"Yes yes, that's them. Nice boys but silly. They should have listened to me."
"Where are they? Do you know? I'm their mother, please."
The woman looked to Molly, startled. She sensed the urgency and wanted to help the family. "Do you have a pair of shoes I can borrow?"
"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up for a moment please." Arthur stepped into the room and faced the woman. "She said something about a candy house, how do we know she isn't delusional?" he asked his wife and then winced. Turning back to her, he apologised but she waved it off, it was a valid question.
She looked at the man, he was a man that wore his heart on his sleeve, she could tell. He was a kind soul but extremely protective of his family, just like his spitfire of a wife. She knew she could trust them.
"I'm not delusional. There is a witch who lures children away from the path with a house made completely of candy. Usually the child will see the house, just a glance, the day before, and then go searching for it the next day. There is a compulsion, a need to go and find this house. It's extremely hard to resist if you're an adult, for a child it's almost impossible. There is another spell on the house, a spell that makes the child want to eat off the house. That's how she traps them. Then, well, there's never been a child caught that's escaped."
The woman was looking down, she could feel her emotions overwhelming her and she tried to suppress them. She didn't see the family's wide eyes or disbelieving expression. She did hear the father's voice.
"How do you know all this?"
The woman looked up and the family could see the tears threatening to fall. "My son told me about a house of candy he saw. The next day, he was gone. I haven't seen him since. That was 50 years ago." A tear slipped down her face and she brushed it away.
The room was silent, there were no words. Not until Percy broke the silence with a logical question they all needed to ask. "What are we waiting for?"
As one, the family set out to find the house made from candy, hoping and praying they weren't too late.
The key turning in the lock seemed to last forever. He was completely content to stay inside the cage thank you very much. George backed up into a corner of the cage, he as crying. No, it was more than crying, he was starting to panic. He could feel his breath coming fast, his vision blurring, all his muscles tensing. I want to go home. I don't want to be eaten. I want to see mummy, and daddy and my family. I want to live.
He saw the witch reaching for him and all his control broke. The fight or flight instinct is an amazing thing. When flight is obstructed, often, instinct will automatically fall to fight until the obstruction is removed. This is what happened to George. With a loud cry, George pushed the witch with all his, severely weakened, strength. The woman stumbled back only slightly but it was enough for George to slip under her arm and try to run straight to his brother, who was still next to the oven. He may be more scared then he ever has been before but nothing would make him leave his brother. He knew it was stupid; he couldn't unlock the chain around his ankle, but one look to his brother and there was a plan. It was dangerous and risky and if it didn't work, they were both dead. Well, we're both dead anyway, may as well go out fighting.
The witch behind George let out a frustrated cry and flew out of the cage, towards the brothers. She was so enraged that George dares to defy her, that she didn't seem to notice the small rug, which was being adjusted by Fred's foot.
Her hands raised, ready to grab the infuriating boy, she didn't notice the rug until it was too late and she was already falling, tripped over an upturned corner. The witch knocked her head against the oven door but was still standing.
Sharing a look, the twins knew what to do. Fred, using a strength he didn't know he had, he pushed the witch into the oven. George, who watched amazed at his brother's anger, started lifting the oven door. With help from Fred they managed to get the oven closed, locking the witch inside to burn.
Unfortunately, all wasn't over yet. They heard something drop behind them and they both spun around in an instant. There, in the arch of the front door, was a man, cleanly shaven and a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers lying on the ground in front of him. George stared at the man for a moment, hoping he was here to help. He wasn't.
"What have you done?" His voice was deep, deeper than most, and it was angry. George moved quickly. Jumping around the rug, he grabbed the keys from their peg and flew back to his brother. By this stage, the man was heading towards them, most likely to kill them, and George picked up the stick that caused the brothers so much pain. When the man was in hitting range, George didn't hold back.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
The man couldn't do anything but take the beating, he couldn't move into a position to fight George, so shocked by the voraciousness of the attack. A hit to the head knocked him out cold and George stood above him, panting.
"George."
Turning to his brother, George realised he was still chained and rushed to rectify that. Once the chain was off, the boys heard a large groan emit from the man. He's waking up.
They needed to leave now but they couldn't get out the front door without stepping over the man, a risk they weren't willing to take. They ran towards the back room, a room they were not allowed to enter when the witch was around, and entered into her room. They couldn't help but stop and stare for a moment. The whole place was covered in piled of gold. Gold on the table, the chairs, the floor. The only place the gold wasn't situated on was the large, comfortable bed in the centre of the room.
One look shared was all the twins needed to decide to take some for themselves. They deserved it, after all, not many can say they survived a witch's attack and their family did need the money. They filled their pockets, and a nearby bag, with so much gold, until a cry from the other room caused them to remember the man, a fact forgotten in the room filled with gold.
"Time to go," Fred said, picking up one last handful of gold.
George, doing the same, nodded his head. They found a window and crawled out of it and ran into the woods, their adventure wasn't over yet.
The family stuck together, this time, they followed the lady who seemed to know the general direction where the boys went. When she reached the clearing, she smiled.
"This is where I met your boys, kind boys. Helped me when I wasn't feeling that well," she said.
"That's our boys, now which way?"
"They were so nice, helping me sit down, asking me my name. They were a kind pair, until I heard they were going to find the house. I may have scared the poor dears because one stormed off in a huff and the other followed. I honestly didn't mean to scare them, I just didn't want them hurt."
"Ma'am,"
The woman turned to look at the mother who was frantically looking around the clearing, with a start, she realised the rest of the family wasn't much better. I shouldn't be rambling, not at a time like this.
"Ma'am, please continue to lead up. Fred and George have been missing for four days, most likely with this witch. We want our sweet, cheeky, hardworking little boys back. Please."
"Of course, of course, I'm sorry." The woman paused to look around the clearing. "I can't remember which way they went, I'm sorry but the trees all look the same. I know it was on that side of the clearing where I entered from, but I'm not sure exactly." She said while waving a hand over the opposite side of the clearing.
"No problem, we'll just have to split up again." The father said, splitting the family up into groups.
"Would you like to come with me, Ma'am?" Charlie asked. He didn't want to look after the old woman but he knew he couldn't leave her alone.
"No, no, you go ahead. I'm going to catch my breath."
Charlie was immensely relieved, though he didn't show it. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes. Go on, find your brothers."
Charlie smiled and, with a nod, turned at picked a direction the rest of the family hadn't taken. The old woman stayed where she was until all red hair was out of sight, then, she hopped up and entered a well hidden path. She would save those boys, even if it killed her.
The boys ran. They weren't very fast, injured and half staved (Fred) or weak (George), but they ran all the same. Neither boy wanted to die so they refused to give in. Their hands were interlocked, they weren't letting go of one another anytime soon.
They stumbled upon a small fork in the road and paused. Which way? George looked to his brother, waiting for him to make a decision like normal, but Fred was biting his lip and glancing between the two paths.
"I don't..."
"Fred, this is not the time to become indecisive, make a choice." But he didn't. George watched his brother frantically switch his gaze between the two paths with a growing sense of panic. Picking a path, the one furthest from the house, George started running again, Fred being pulled along.
"Why didn't you decide?" George asked while running.
Fred didn't answer but the shame that filtered over his face caused George to realise exactly why he didn't choose.
"Your choices aren't always bad ones. You are good at making decisions, that's why I let you do it. So you made a bad choice, it was you who came up with the plan back there. You aren't wrong all the time, in fact, you're rarely ever wrong. It's nice to know you are human with human faults after all."
Fred pulled them to a stop and chuckled nervously at his brother's attempt to lighten the mood. His laugher quickly faded though and he looked at his brother. "I can't bare to lose you, I can't. I was so scared, Georgie."
Fred dissolved into sobs and George, for the moment, forgot about what they were running from. He pulled his brother close and cried with him. "I was too, I was so scared too."
They stayed like that for a short while, just holding one another and crying. The moment didn't last long. A large snapping sound had the boys spinning around and seeing the man, a large kitchen knife in hand.
"Found you." He smiled and charged at them.
The boys screamed, scrambling away from the man but they stumbled and ended on the ground, the man towering over them.
"You are dead." The man raised the knife and brought it down.
The boys closed their eyes, Fred slightly covering George, trying to protect him, and waited for their death.
The scream that seemed to echo around the forest, caused many to stop and turn. Only one family, though, recognised the sound and ran towards it. They would recognise the sound of their family members scream anywhere, even if the boys in question were not screamers.
The old woman came across the boys just as the man did. She manoeuvred herself into a better position and, once the time was right, charged the man. She didn't see the surprise on the man's face, she didn't notice the fright that entered the man's eyes when he realised he was out in the open. She didn't notice the knife sliding in between her ribs or the warm liquid running over her hands. She only noticed the little boy, bathed in gold, smiling at her. A face she hadn't seen for fifty years.
"Terry?"
"Hi mummy, it's time to come home."
The old woman smiled, "I'm coming home." With tears of joy filling here eyes, the old woman took her last breath and smiled. She was going home.
When the expected pain didn't come, the boys opened their eyes, only to see the old woman they met four days ago in the woods, the one that told them not go look for the house. The man that was hunting them was looking around in fright. He seemed to make a decision, dropped the blood-soaked knife and ran. Then the woman collapsed.
The boy's eyes widened when they made the connection between the knife covered in blood and the woman's collapse. They crawled up to the woman and were surprised to see a smile on her face.
"Ma'am!" George said, shaking the woman gently.
"George, she's losing a lot of blood." Fred had his hands over the wound in her stomach but the blood just kept seeping out of it.
"Ma'am, Angelia, please."
If anything the woman's smile widened and she uttered words, so soft the boys had to lean in the hear them.
"I'm going home." Then she closed her eyes and her chest stilled.
Fred sat back and stared at his hands, now covered in blood.
George didn't move, he continued to shake her, continued to beg for her to open her eyes.
Neither heard the shouts from further in the forest, nor did they register when people, from all sides of the clearing, charged in, too involved in their shock and grief.
Molly charged into the clearing and the first thing she saw was her boys, alive. They were bruised, beaten and exhausted but they were alive and Molly felt unimaginable joy at the sight. Then she saw the blood and the body. A body, she realised, she recognised. Understanding what took place only moments before was easy. From the boy's dirty feet, the blood covered knife on the ground and the old woman lying there dead. She could easily recognise that the woman gave her life to protect her children.
She could only feel grateful.
"Fred? George?" Molly heard the waver in her voice but she ignored it. She didn't want to scare her children; they looked like they were in a world of pain, physical and emotional.
Neither boys move, neither twitched. Fred was staring at his hands, George was still shaking the woman but he was silent. Both were crying.
Molly looked around and saw the family all around them. Bill was holding a struggling Ginny, Arthur's right hand was placed over Percy's shoulder and his left over his mouth. Charlie's hands were clenched and his eyes were closed. Ron was, Molly's eyes widened, Ron was walking towards his older brothers.
"Gred? Forge?" Ron whispered the first words he's said for three full days. Molly could see her youngest son's eyes water but he didn't let the tears fall. He approached the twins slowly but once he was only a few steps away, he couldn't hold back. Throwing his arms around Fred's shoulders he let his tears finally fall. "I missed you so much!" Ron cried and Molly's heart broke.
George felt like he was underwater. He knew, logically, that the woman in front of him, the one that saved his life, was dead. He also knew, in some aspect, that there were other people in the clearing but all he could focus on was the sound of a child crying. It was a sound he recognised, someone he knew, was crying. He felt the unbelievable urge to comfort the crying child.
He turned his head slowly, his vision seeming to move slower than the rest of him, making the world blurry. When his vision settled he saw Fred holding a child, his little brother, Ron. Ron's here, why is Ron here? George had a moment of panic, Ron had been caught by the witch, but he remembered pushing her into an over, I killed her.
A blur of movement startled him, causing him to flinch, but when a small, warm body collided with his, he recognised his little sister, Ginny.
"Fred! We've been looking for you for ages! You missed four dinners and four bed time stories."
George smiled; he felt a lot better listening to his sister. He saw Fred burry his head into Ron's hair and Ron shook in his arms. We got out, we're safe. George closed his eyes and sighed, pulling his sister close. We're safe.
The family spend most of the day in that clearing. Once Fred and George had been pulled from the depths of shock, they refused to leave until Angelia was properly buried. Not knowing if she had a family, and assuming she didn't after the family explained her story to the boys, they buried her where she lay, forever resting in the place she made the ultimate sacrifice.
The boys said some words, as did Molly and Arthur. The old woman would always be remembers and honoured in the Weasley family. Ginny placed a flower she found earlier on the mound of dirt and each member thanked her for keeping their family whole.
When the sky started to darken, the twins became twitchy. George was continually looking over his shoulder and Fred attached himself to George's side. The family decided it was time to go home. Fred grabbed the shoulder bag automatically and the mother and father shared a look but didn't say anything yet. That could wait until they arrived home.
The little shack, home of the Weasley family, was the best thing George had ever seen. Fred's thoughts mirrored his brothers. Wanting to run inside but unable to with their injuries, the boys were almost jumping out of their skin.
Molly smiled when she saw her boy's excitement, it was nice to see after finding them, well, how they did. Entering the house was a sigh of relief. Ginny was asleep on her father's shoulder and Ron was sleepily rubbing his eyes with one hand, the other holding onto George tightly. Charlie peeled off from the group to tend to the animals and Bill ran upstairs to run a nice warm bath. Fred and George were looking around the house like they were seeing it again for the first time and Percy was smiling down at them.
"Why don't you boys go clean up and then get to bed. We can talk in the morning."
Nodding, the twins went to go upstairs but Fred stopped, turning to his parents with a cheeky grin, one that the family use to hate but were now glad to see.
"We have something for you."
Molly and Arthur exchanged confused glances.
George smiled, he'd forgotten all about it but now he couldn't wait to see their family's reactions. Turning out his pockets, at least fifty large gold pieces came tumbling out. Their parent's jaws dropped.
"That's not all." Fred turned out his own pockets, causing more gold to fall out, then he opened the shoulder bag. Looking inside, Molly and Arthur realised it was also filled with gold pieces.
"Where . . .?"
"How . . .?"
George shared a satisfied smirk with Fred and linked their hands together. "Stole it from the witch," they said in unison.
Arthur stared down at the gold. He wasn't a greedy person usually, actually, he was never a greedy person but looking down at that gold, and remembering that he lost his job just before all this happened, he could only smile.
Molly was outright beaming. She was so glad she could provide a better living for her children. "We could buy a new house, new clothes." She said, mumbling to herself.
Ron, who was still attached to George, refusing to let go, was suddenly wide awake. "Can we buy some sweets? Please mummy."
Molly opened her mouth but was interrupted by the twins.
"No! No sweets, ever."
The mother and father smiled at the horrified looks. It would take time for the twins to be themselves again but they would get there, they were strong and they were a family. Family stuck together.
(w.c 10,401)
WolfWinks –xx-