Ow. Ow. Ow.
George covered his head with his weak arms. The blows kept raining down on him mercilessly. He had no option but to endure the harsh treatment and the hurtful words.
" Goddamn it, a B? Fred got an A! I send you to a muggle school with Fred, and this is the result?" His mother yelled at him.
His mother couldn't even call him by his name.
Don't cry.
A silent trickle leaked from under his eyes. If Fred had been here, then he could've defended George from their mother.
" Why can't you be more like Fred?" She screamed.
His heart had shattered right there at that moment when she said those words. George let out a mournful and pitiful whimper knowing that he'd always be the worst.
" Mum…? What's happening? Why are you hitting George?"
Fred stood in the hall, shocked by his dear mother's actions. He was sweaty and beaten down from quidditch practice that he had signed up for. And of course, George wasn't allowed to even ask to go. Apparently they were too 'poor' when it came to him.
His mother immediately straightened herself and forced a loving smile, " Oh dear, go clean yourself up. You're a mess, I made apple pie just for you."
George's jaw twitched. He had to pick a sour apple from along the road when he came back from school because he knew that there wouldn't be anything for him to eat.
No, Fred, please go to your room.
Instead, Fred came closer. The boy sensed his mother was lying.
" George, what's going on?"
Sensing the glare on his back by his mother, he smiled, " W-We're just talking."
George fidgeted under the glare of Molly Weasley, his mother.
" Go to shower now, Fred." Molly stated loudly.
Fred sent a sorry look to his twin and retreated to the bathroom.
" My perfect little angel…" Molly sighed, " Why can't you be more like Freddy?"
George stared at her with hollow and broken eyes. For now, he was too tired to remind her that it was partially her fault. When the twins had asked to get a tutor, Fred had gotten lessons from a very well known tutor. However, George had gotten a battered book named Math For Idiots from Bill.
He finished wiping off his tears just as their father rang the doorbell. George ran and opened the doorbell, a tad bit excited for what news his father might have.
Fred was fresh out of the shower and into his clean, new, broomstick patterned pajamas. George frowned. His pajamas were hand-me-downs from Charlie.
" Hello, Molly, Fred."
Arthur Weasley hugged both of them lovingly. He had forgotten that George was even there. His other siblings came running down at the sound of their father, wearing pajamas just like Fred. In turn, each of them had gotten a hug.
At the dinner table, their father had gotten wrapped muggle presents out.
" Here you go, Princess Ginny." He bowed low toward their three year old daughter.
The man gave each of his precious child a gift. Except one.
George slouched back in his chair and sighed. His father had forgotten him again. As usual, he gave Molly his last present. All hope was lost then.
" Ta-da!" Ginny waved her new toy around, a barbie, " Dolly!"
Ron grinned widely, " Yes! A new console!"
Charlie and Bill both wore grins. Bill had received part of a dinosaur fossil, and Charlie had received a authentic windcatcher made by Native Americans.
Fred had wide eyes as he stared at his gift. George was afraid his eyes would pop out if he didn't blink.
" I-Is this the Comet T-Two Ninety?" An awed whisper came out of his mouth, " Thanks!"
Fred's grin was impossibly wide as he handled the broomstick gently.
I wish I got a new broomstick.
Fred's smile fell when he looked at George.
" Papa, why doesn't George get a present?" Fred asked quietly.
The table fell silent.
" Who's George?"
Ginny squealed, " It's Fred's twin and your son, silly!"
She pointed an excited finger at the ginger.
" We have another son? I only remember Fred, Bill, Charlie, and Ron."
Molly gave a quiet nod.
"I-I'm so sorry I forgot about you… Who are you?"
" I'm George."
His voice was raspy and crackling from the lack of use.
" Your name isn't George, it's Feorge. I would know my own son's name." Their mother stated confidently.
For the second time that day, George felt an angry stab at his heart. He wanted to curl up in bed and cry until he fell asleep. Their two youngest children tiptoed to their mother and whispered some words.
" Uh… Sweetheart?" Molly said.
" Yes, hon?" Arthur said.
" Ginny and Ron just told me his name is George."
" Impossible."
" It is…"
Arthur looked shocked, but he shrugged it off, " Who cares, he's not the best so we shouldn't even bother."
George gritted his teeth together and silently slinked off into his room on the attic. I bet Dad doesn't even know I live here.
He curled up in his bed that creaked and ached every time he tossed or turned. The mothball smelling blankets were itchy, and the sweater he wore to sleep hadn't been washed in two days. Unlike his brother, he didn't know how to use basic underage magic without alerting the Ministry because he never got lessons.
I'm so pathetic. I'm useless. I'll never be able to be as good as Fred.
Never.
Should I continue?