I'm disclaiming: To Ms. JK and her lawyers... thanks for allowing me to borrow your characters. Don't own them, don't intend to make any money blah blah blah... No need to sue, alright?
NOTE FROM AUTHOR: This is going to be amazing.. . are you watching, because something unprecedented is about to happen… Rose is going to admit that she was wrong, and you, the reviewers, were right. YOU WERE RIGHT! Mrs. Weasley wouldn't hit her children, would she? Sorry, it was fun to write. I'm just that way. Anyway, here is a revised Undone. You'll find it isn't much different. The timeline is still screwy and all. Mostly I took of my little comments at the end and cleaned it up a smidge. And, of course, Mrs. Weasley does not strike Fred or George. WAH LAH!!!
UNDONE
CHAPTER ONE
THE LAST STRAW
"FREDERICK GEORGE AND GEORGE FREDERICK WEASLEY!" Mrs. Weasley's voice roared throughout the Burrow with such fury that the house's very walls quaked with fear.
The door separating the kitchen and parlor became very upset and, trembling, slipped quietly off its hinges to take solace behind the sofa.
The family ghoul bellowed encouragingly from the attic, rattling it's chains in triumph.
Upstairs, identical faces froze in identical terror, their identical quills dripping fat identical blots of ink on the carpet.
"YOU BRING YOURSELVES DOWN HERE THIS SECOND!" Came another dangerous maternal roar from the kitchen.
One twin unfroze and, grinning, gave his brother a knock on the shoulder. "It worked!"
"But perhaps it wasn't as funny as we'd imagined-" George whispered.
"Perhaps not-"
"IF YOUR AREN'T DOWN HERE IN THREE SECONDS I SHALL BEAT ONE OF YOU TO DEATH-" Here their mother paused dramatically for emphasis- "AND THE OTHER I SHALL KEEP ALIVE TO SUFFER!"
The twins gulped, unconsciously grasping one another by the shoulder, their quills and parchment forgotten in a puddle of ink where they knelt between their beds.
"You know she'll kill me," Fred murmured, "she's always favored you."
"I'M GOING TO COUNT!"
"So go down there and take what's coming to you!" whispered George frantically.
"George!" Fred said, too loud.
"I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME UP THERE! ONE!"
"Oh, don't be a prat. Come on." They stood, seizing handfuls of each other's robes, and crept out of the room.
"TWO!"
Their mother was just finishing her count-down, and had begun her threatening anew when they broke into full speed and ran, gasping, into the kitchen.
"Yes, mum?" said Fred innocently.
"Mum?" George squeaked.
The Weasley family in their entirety was seated around the scrubbed table in silence, food untouched. Bill was staring at his lap, lips pressed together in an effort not to smile, while Charlie closely inspected a burn on his forearm. Their father was hidden behind The Daily Prophet.
Their mother stood just inside where the parlor door should have been, beet red, nostrils flaring. Percy was behind her, hands on his hips, a look of disgust on his face.
"Explain yourselves," Mrs. Weasley hissed.
"Whatever could you mean, mum?" Fred said.
George groaned.
Mrs. Weasley pointed a finger, shaking with rage, at a pale Ron.
He had a runny red liquid pouring in a great stream out of his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. It stained his white shirt and was pooling in his soggy lap. He gazed blankly at the twins, the red stuff trickling from the corners of his eyes like tears.
Fred slapped his hand to his forehead. "Not convincing at all, George! Far too runny. We'll have to-"
"NOT CONVINCING?" Mrs. Weasley roared.
The bellow was loud enough that Fred fell over. George caught him, and they clung to each other as a frightened child will cling to her baby-doll, their eyes reflecting genuine terror.
"George," said their mother through clenched teeth. "Explain."
A pitiful blubbering began to pour from George's mouth. Something about a new candy, excellent little gag for Halloween-
"GAG!" Mrs. Weasley roared. "You thought this would be FUNNY, did you-"
"Really," Percy broke in, "you two should be sent to some Muggle Boot Camp. You little practical jokes are bordering on being very-"
"-PERCY, SIT DOWN!" Mrs. Weasley roared, and Percy cowered to his seat.
Bill burst into giggles, catching himself, but not quite fast enough.
Mrs. Weasley turned to him. "Do you find this funny, William?"
Bill did his best to cover his smile and shook his head no.
"Do you think this is funny, Charles?"
Charlie, whose shoulders had been shaking, sat up straight and told her no, ma'am, with a serious face.
"Do you think this is funny?" She barked at her twins, gesturing wildly toward Ron.
Fred hid his face in George's robes, leaving George to fend for himself. "Er, well... not-not anymore."
He had said the wrong thing.
"Not anymore? Well let me tell you what I think. I think THAT I DON'T FIND THIS VERY FUNNY AT ALL!"
George crashed to the floor as if he had been stuck, taking his brother with him.
"I'm certain Ron doesn't find it amusing," Mrs. Weasley continued, "How would you like it? How would you like to be eating supper and have blood pour from every hole in your face?" She stared down at them, her eyes burning, nostrils like gaping black holes. She looked very scary indeed.
The twins gazed pathetically up at her, blinking madly.
"WELL?"
"Er-" George managed.
"It's only fake blood!" Fred blurted.
"ONLY FAKE BLOOD!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. She dragged the twins off the floor by the scruffs of their robes and threw them toward the back door. They slammed painfully against the wall in a petrified knot of arms and legs. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! YOU'LL STAY IN THAT YARD UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN COME IN, AND IF I SEE A SINGLE GNOME IN THAT GARDEN-!"
The twins fumbled with their body parts, and then with the door knob, and finally disappeared outside.
Mrs. Weasley sighed deeply and seated herself at the table. Her face returned to its normal hue, but her scowl did not go away.
"Mum I'm fine-" Ron gurgled. The watery red liquid sprayed like a fountain from his mouth, all over the table and his food. He said no more. The blood dripped off his chin, out his nose, and was still gushing from his ears.
"Don't speak, Ron," said Ginny, who had little spatters of the stuff on her dress.
Bill was unable to contain himself any longer. He let a loud laugh escape him and, slamming the table with one fist, covered his face with his other hand, as if trying to force the laugher back in. Charlie joined him, laughing so hard he clutched at his stomach and tears stood in his eyes.
"Really, you two," clucked Percy.
The newspaper Mr. Weasley was reading began to tremble, and he pulled it closer to his face to stifle his titters. Mrs. Weasley watched with a tight mouth, shooting them all a warning look which they failed to see in their mirth.
"Really, it's all right," Ron began again, as the liquid had lessened to a mere drip. He wiped the last of the "blood" from his eyes. "I was just shocked at first..." His last word sent another spray across the table.
Bill and Charlie had fallen over each other, and were beating one another on the back.
"IT'S NOT ALRIGHT!" Mrs. Weasley shouted over the noise. The kitchen fell silent. She gave Bill and Charlie an evil eye, and turned to Mr. Weasley. "Those twins are getting out of hand, Arth- Arthur!"
Mr. Weasley jumped and threw his newspaper aside. "Um- yes, yes dear. Inexcusable." The corners of his mouth were fighting to upturn.
"I've had enough," she barked, ripping her bread in half as she violently buttered it. "We've grounded them to the house, grounded them to their rooms, we learned that lesson and grounded them to the Ron's and Bill's old room, to the closet, to the shed- we've had them scrubbing floors, raking leaves, housetraining the ghoul- we've taken away there wands, their brooms, their quills and parchment-"
"-If you ask me, a nice long separation would be just what-"
"I didn't ask you, Percy!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, dropping her knife with a clang on her plate. "Keep quiet."
Percy withdrew. Bill and Charlie continued to shake silently with laughter.
"As I was saying, Arthur, I am at the end of my patience. I am at a total loss for what do with them... besides beat them senseless." Mrs. Weasley harshly stabbed a breast of chicken with her fork.
"We don't want to do that," said Mr. Weasley, suddenly looking very serious.
"No," agreed Mrs. Weasley, "But what another choice to they leave me?"
"They should be punished." Mr. Weasley sipped his tea thoughtfully.
"A fierce beating would be punishment." Charlie pointed out.
"Paddle their bare asses, Mum." Bill agreed, sniggering.
"ENOUGH!" Mrs. Weasley screamed. "Everyone take your plates to your rooms at once!"
Her children began to move, yet obviously much too slowly, because Mrs. Weasley stood, brought her foot down hard on the floorboards and wailed, "RIGHT NOW!"
The three that could Apparate were gone in a flash, and the two that could not scurried out of the kitchen as fast as their legs would carry them (Ron obligingly took his plate, though the food was soggy and red).
When the kitchen was empty, Mrs. Weasley sat again and turned to her husband, imploring him for a solution.
"Well-" he began uncertainly.
"I know what your'e going to say. 'Leave them outside to think about what they did.' Well you know they are. 'Thinking about' and congratulating themselves on another successful invention-"
"No dear, I heard them. Fred said it was too runny-"
"Arthur…"
"Sorry, dear."
Suddenly Mrs. Weasley's face crumpled. "Arthur, I think they need to be separated."
"Separated?"
Outside the back door, with their ears pressed against the wood, Fred and George groaned softly, sinking to the ground.
"I fear separating them could be unhealthy."
Silence for a moment. Behind the door the twins nodded furiously in agreement.
"Why?" Mrs. Weasley finally said, "Be serious, Arthur, it's not as if they share organs. I think it would be good for them. We've treated them like one person their whole lives- their antics are probably a cry for individual attention."
"Perhaps... but does it make sense that they cry together for individual attention?" Mr. Weasley said.
"Still," she retorted irritably, her tears vanishing in an instant, "They can't share a brain forever!"
Uncle John's would be perfect, she later told George (who had lost the wand toss), because he lived far, far away in some rural area in the States that George had never heard of. Mrs. Weasley had not seen her brother since Ron was born, as she was too busy with six children, then seven, but he'd agreed to take George for the summer and "straighten him out." Fireplaces would be sealed so he and Fred would not be able to meet and "try to pull any funny business."
He would learn about a different culture and a little something about work. It would be educational and enlightening, she assured him.
Fred and George discovered that the matter was closed to any sort of: begging, pleading, crying, whining, promises, negotiations, and even go-aheads for the most severe of beatings. No, George couldn't stay in back yard or the linen closet. No, he couldn't stay with Oliver or Lee. No, Mr. Weasley's sister Aunt Wilma lived far too close to the Burrow for him to stay there. No, he could not stay with the Dursleys, even if they would have him.
And so, after much carrying on, George and his trunk (carefully inspected for tricks or Wizard Wheezes) found themselves in front of the fireplace.
"What about me?" Fred whined, his eyes slightly red around the rims, "Why don't I get to learn about work and cultures and enlightenment and such?"
"Hush, Fred," was all Mrs. Weasley said.
"I'll be so lonely!" George protested. "Spending two months with some old man... think of how my social skills will suffer!"
"I'm not sending you both, and it's final!" barked Mrs. Weasley.
In the end his mother had to grab George by his belt loops and throw him into the fireplace, shouting his destination for him. He flew out the other side in a storm of ash and soot, rolling across the floor. His trunk came sliding out of the fire behind him.
"Goodbye, Georgie!" Fred called from behind the crackling wall of flames.
The fire gave a final roar and was gone.