A/N: Takes place in the beautiful AU world of Fox Ears by The Starhorse where Fred is saved in a way that actually makes sense. You don't have to read it (though I highly recommend it)

READ THIS! BASICALLY: Fred is alive but George is still missing an ear. That's pretty much all you really need to know.

"Shut your big, fat trap Fred. I'm working." George Weasley said as he attempted yet again to gather his brain cells and concentrate on the many complex spells it took to even make the theory of their Hear It in Your Head products make sense. He just didn't have the attention span at the moment. Not with Fred blathering away about how not to chop firewood or some such nonsense.

"If I have a fat trap, Georgie, you have a fat arse." Came the lazy reply. George rolled his eyes at the crummy insult and turned back to the parchment on the floor of their room at the Burrow he'd been scribbling on for the past hour.

The Unorte charm should be good for the single ear use, but then we need a charm that lets the user specify which ear. George scratched his missing ear, an unconscious gesture, and contemplated the possibility for the user to just say "right" or "left". He scribbled on the parchment some more before Fred's incessant whining about the furniture made him shunt the paper to the side and turn his full attention to his twin.

"Bloody damn, Fred, stop complaining!"

"But I'm bored!"

"Count to five,"

"No,"

"But you said you were bored!"

"Not bored enough to count to five!"

George's angry expletives were cut off by a knock at the door. "Come in!" He shouted irritably at the door as if it were the cause of his anger. The door opened and Percy Weasley entered while carrying a poorly wrapped package.

"Whaddya want, Perce?" Fred asked eagerly, scrambling to turn towards his brother from his position on the floor.

"Oh, nothing," Percy said with barely disguised mirth, "I just have a gift for one of you." He placed the tiny package on a desk (George noted that was his) and stepped over the threshold and out the door with a simple "Enjoy!"

Fred and George shared a look before simultaneously nodding: this was obviously a prank.

"Well," Fred asked, "what shall we do with it?" He went over to inspect the small package and made sure to not touch the wrappings.

"We might as well 'fall' for it," George came up behind him and inspected the package over Fred's shoulder.

"Might as well,"

"Could be dangerous,"

"Probably,"

"Who's going to do it?"

They stared at each other for a moment before Fred shrugged.

"Fine. You do it," At George's squawk of outrage, Fred added, "Your desk, your neck," He gestured to the innocent looking package with a sly smirk.

George, martyr-like expression firmly in place, reached out tentatively, smiling in relief when he was able to hold the package without harm.

"You better tell my story right, Fred," George said while examining all sides of the package, "Full of heroic blunders and the like,"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Fred waived him off, "I'll make sure to mention them when you're crying at Mum's feet begging her to sew your other ear back on,"

"You'll be the one having to clean up when I start spewing hairballs," George said in response.

He opened the small box and looked down in disappointment: All he could see was a small, neon green ball. He thought it looked like a muggle gum-ball as he held it up for his twin to see.

"Well," said Fred after a bit of close examining, "this is anticlimactic," George nodded in agreement.

"I guess I'm going to have to eat it. It is a gift after all," He winked at his twin and popped the gumball into his mouth.

After a few moments of chewing, Fred looked his twin up and down to find any obvious changes. "Well, your left foot looks a bit-"

But he was cut off by George's surprised gasp. Fred looked up to find the other redhead and clutching at his neck with scrabbling fingers, as if trying to tear out his throat. He let out a hoarse yell and Fred looked on, eyes furrowed and wondering when the joke started and this horrible chocking ended.

Then Fred realized that this was no joke.

George turned faintly blue, a thick neon green substance that was neither liquid nor solid bubbled up from his throat started to dribble steadily down his chin as he gagged and attempted to draw breath. He was silent.

Fred sprang into action as George stared at him with bulging, panicked eyes.

Not knowing what, exactly, to do in such a situation, Fred ran over to George and looked down his throat. His insides went cold and his breathing grew harsh when he saw saw that the green goop was, in fact, suffocating his twin.

Fred didn't know what to do, so he screamed. He screamed for help, for his mum. He screamed absolute, babbling nonsense while simultaneously going through a list things that would possibly help George in his head. If only I had a…oh!

When they were kids, their mum always made them keep one somewhere in the room at the of the Burrow in case anything went wrong with one of their experiments. She figured that, if she couldn't stop them, she could at least make sure they were safe.

Fred flailed around for a moment trying to think of where the bezoar would be while his yells for someone to come help him.

When George's eyes rolled back into his head, Fred decided that the green goo needed to go in order to get the actual bezoar down his throat. He pursed his lips in attempts to quell the bubbling panic rising in chest, he bent in twin at the waist and pounded him on the back.

The coughs increased and Fred grew desperate.

"Cough it up, Georgie," he begged, "C'mon, just keep coughing," He stuck two fingers into George's throat, scooping the the green substance and distantly hearing itland on the floor with a spat.

But it was almost no use. The stuff just kept coming and coming, more and more.

Finally Bill Weasley ran into the room, followed closely by their Mum.

"Fred, what happened? Why'd you-" he trailed off paling at the horrible sight that met his eyes.

George collapsed and now lay almost completely still, save for the slight rolling of his eyes as he blindly searched for a face to give him the tiniest ounce of hope. Fred was furiously working to dislodge the last of the green goop and had a horrible combination of absolute fear and robotic concentration on his face.

"Bezoar…." He muttered, still digging frantically for more of the suffocating liquid. It seemed like it was all gone, but if that was the case, why wasn't George breathing? His eyes had stopped rolling and were now staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Fred… what?" But Fred ignored his mother's stunned question and started performing muggle CPR; rhythmically pumping George's chest. He wished he knew what it was that was lodged in his brother's throat, but since he didn't, it wouldn't be a good idea to introduce it to more magic.

"Bezoar!" he panted, still pumping.

Good thing their father was so interested in muggle healers.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, George gave a great shudder and pained little breaths escapeded.

Fred sat back, satisfied slightly that at least George was breathing. But then, suddenly, George's hands once again started scratching and clawing at his throat, as if trying to remove it, letting out pained whimpers and cut off gasps.

Fred cursed out loud while Bill and Molly stood staring at George. "BILL! The bezoar! it's, it's in the second," Fred George's pained cries increased in volume and Fred had to raise his voice, "the second to last drawer in the desk by the door!" All he could do was attempt to calm his tortured twin for those agonizingly long seconds as he writhed and whimpered in pain. George's streaming eyes searched wildly as he continuously scratched at his throat.

Bill, cursing his shocked stillness, rushed over to the desk.

Finally, he brought the little stone to Fred who immediately took it and, with a plea of "Hush Georgie, this will make it better," shoved the bezoar into his mouth.

The result was almost instant. George gave a loud, pain-filled cry, his eyes rolling to show only the whites and finally laid still.

"Fred," Molly asked, voice weak after a moment of stunned stillness, "What happened?"

Fred, quite shell-shocked, scrambled at his twin's throat. Ignoring the numerous scratches and welts George had made on his own skin. He sought out a pulse and he almost fainted with release when he felt the faint fluttering against his fingertips.

He swallowed through the lump in his throat and muttered in a subdued voice, "Percy tried to kill George."

A/N: Thoughts?