"You will be writing lines, Mr. Weasley." Professor Umbridge told him. She gestured to the small desk in front of her bigger desk. Fred sat obediently.
"What am I writing?" Fred asked, picking up the quill that was on the desk. He paused. "There's no ink well, miss."
"There will be no need for an ink well, my dear. You will be writing: I do not matter." She said, moving a quill on her desk, before looking at Fred. "Do you understand?"
"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Fred raised an eyebrow.
"It is the truth, is it not, Mr. Weasley?" Umbridge stood and walked daintily to his desk. She leaned closer to him, her and on the desk. The next four words were spoken clearly and haltingly. "You. Do. Not. Matter. You are the lesser being, my dear. Even your twin is better than you."
Her voice had lost it's lady like bright tone and every word hit Fred like a stone. This was something he had heard before from a Slytherin bloke. Even though he knew it wasn't true, doubt of his own self-worth filled his heart. He mentally shook himself out of that train of thought.
"Yes, Ma'am." Fred said as he brought the quill to the parchment. She walked back to her desk, satisfied.
"You will write until I tell you to stop, Mr. Weasley." Umbridge said, her bright tone back.
He wrote the sentence over and over, a pain blossoming in his other hand every so often. He ignored it, looking at the red ink as he wrote. Finally, it became to much to ignore. Fred looked down at his other hand. Horror filled his very being as he looked at the weeping scratches. 'I do not matter.'
"Something wrong?" Umbridge broke his thoughts. Fred looked up at her. Chills ran down his spine at her gaze. "Then do continue with your lines, Mr. Weasley. At least then, you are being useful."
Fred was silent as he loaded his plate with breakfast foods. George sat next to him, talking with Angelina. It had been a rough night last night for Fred. The younger twin had nightmares the entire night. Unfortunately, he could remember every moment of the dream. Fred looked at his plate, his stomach churning. There was no way he could eat. The memories of the nightmare made him feel ill.
"Are you alright, Fred?" George asked. Fred realized that he had been staring at the plate longer than he thought. George's eyes showed his concern.
"I think I might be coming down with something. Why don't you guys go without me." Fred lied. It was a Hogsmeade weekend.
"Are you sure?' George put his hand to Fred's head. "You are a bit warm."
'All you do is cause worry. Useless.'
The random memory of the nightmare caused Fred to pale.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm just going to lay in bed today." Fred said, standing up.
"I'll bring you something to eat when I come back, okay?" George said. Fred nodded, then made his way to the dorms.
'You can't even take care of yourself.'
Fred shook that thought out of his head, his vision swimming. That's not true. George just wants to help him, that's all. Fred swallowed the lump in his throat, walking up the steps to Gryffindor tower.
"C'mon, Fred, it's not that hard." Harry encouraged. D.A. was in session, and they were doing patroneses. Almost everyone so far had made mist, at the least. Nothing came from Fred's wand. "Just think of your happiest memory."
Fred closed his eyes. He thought of the time George and him first did a prank. Fred had felt so happy to bond with George. George had been drifting away a bit, making friends with Angelina and Katie.
'He was annoyed with your worthlessness. All you do is cause annoyance and pain.'
Fred winced at the thought. His hand throbbed under the glamour he had used. I do not matter.
"I just can't do it." Fred sighed, lowering his wand. "Is there something else I could do?"
"Well, this is the only known defense against the Dementors." Harry said. Harry looked at Fred, thoughtfully. "Why don't you work on the Summoning charm, you had some trouble with that one. Next time, I'll help you with the patroness."
"Alright." Fred nodded.
'Even Harry thinks you're too stupid to do the charm.'
Fred ignored the voice, summoning a pillow from across the room. He was not stupid.
"It doesn't look like it's sunken in enough." Umbridge tsked, looking at Fred's hand. "Keep writing."
Fred sat back at the desk, his hands shaking slightly in pain. I do not matter. A wave of thoughts flew through his brain about his self-worth and himself all together. In the back of his mind, he realized that the quill was putting the thoughts into his mind. He was in too much pain, physically and emotionally, to care.
"What's wrong with you lately, Fred." George asked, cornering him in their dorm. "You've been quiet, you're hardly eating, and I haven't seen you smile in weeks."
"There's nothing wrong with me." Fred said shrugging.
"Don't lie to me, Freddie, I can tell something is wrong. Just tell." George pleaded.
"Don't call me a liar." Fred snapped.
"I'm not calling you a liar." George protested. "I just want to help you!"
"I can take care of myself, George." Fred said, pushing past his twin to leave the room.
Fred went down to the common room and left the tower. He didn't want to be around people. They all had this kicked puppy look and wanted to help him. Fred didn't need help. He wasn't stupid, he could take care of himself.
'Yeah, right. That's why you're making everyone worry. You're too stupid to take care of yourself. They don't care about you. They feel obligated to help you.'
Fred ran into an unused classroom and shut the door. He slid to the floor, tears on his face. His left hand throbbed. Casting away the glamour, Fred looked at his hand. I do not matter. The scratches had healed, but scars remained. Nothing he did got rid of it. It was a curse scar. The only thing he could do was hide it behind a glamour
Fred screamed, pain flowing through him. Umbridge had gotten bored with the lines and moved on to Crucio. He sobbed as she ended the curse.
"I wouldn't have to do this if you weren't so worthless, Mr. Weasley. I feel sorry for your family. They have to deal with you. Be honest, wouldn't they be better off if you weren't there?" Umbridge told him. Fred didn't answer, he laid there in pain with tears running down his face.
It was after curfew and Fred was in the Astronomy tower. He looked up at the peaceful sky. His hands shook still from the Crucio. Glaring at them, he stuffed his hands into his robe pockets. She was right, Fred thought. George would be better off without him to hold him back. Fred stepped over to the tower wall and looked over it. The ground was far, he thought. No one would survive the fall. A water drop fell over the edge, and Fred realized that he was crying.
"Fred?" George's voice caused Fred to whirl around in surprise. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing." The bite was taken out of his voice.
"Freddie, come here." George said. 'He doesn't trust you.' "Harry told me what happens in Umbridge's detentions. The blood quill is messing with your head, Freddie. We can help."
Fred looked at his hand and the words that were written on it. I do not matter.
"Fred." George paused. "What did she make you write?"
"Nothing that wasn't true." Fred snapped. The back of his mind rebeled against those words.
"Fred." George stepped forward. "What she made you write is a lie. Whatever it is, it's a lie."
Fred stepped back into the wall. George panicked and lept forward, grabbing Fred. He held Fred in his arms tightly.
"It's okay." George said, rubbing Fred's back. Fred stopped his struggle and just sobbed into George's shoulder. His hand gripped onto George's shirt as he cried.
"I do not matter. I don't matter. I don't." Fred said through his sobs. George's hand stopped.
"That bitch." George hissed. George pulled back and held Fred's face in his hands. "Listen to me, Freddie. I will say this until you believe this. You do matter. Okay? You. Matter."
'I do matter.'