George was dismayed to observe that Fred's refound cheerfulness was a result of the cheering chocolates, as his twin returned to the quieter persona which he had recently become used to. Despite the pounding in his head, George laughed and joked for the both of them; determined to be as energetic as possible so that he had no time to dwell on the thoughts which he had locked away. Summer transformed into Autumn, as September arrived. The weather became noticeably colder, as the leaves began to fall from the trees. Diagon Alley had never looked so bleak; even Weasley's Wizard Wheezes failed to attract the most intrepid of shoppers. As a result the twins had significantly reduced their opening hours, but refused to let the death eaters win completely. They redecorated the shop's exterior, making the bold purple and orange shop front stand out even further.
"Just think", Fred said as they tidied displays of skiving snackboxes and canary creams. "Harry, Ron and Hermione would have been going back to Hogwarts today."
George frowned. "I hope they're ok". He adjusted another stack of nosebleed nougat, that really didn't require alteration; but he was fidgety and needed to keep busy.
"Better than they would have been if Harry had just got on the train as normal. The death eaters would have seized him immediately."
"I can't believe Snape and the Carrows are in charge now. They'd better not hurt Ginny". George shook his head in disgust.
"A good job we're not there to antagonise them; we wouldn't have finished the school year alive."
George quickly straightened from the colourful boxes he had been examining and grinned widely. "Was that a joke I heard? Anyone would think you were Fred Weasley!"
"I'm sorry I haven't been living up to your expectations," Fred responded irritably.
George quickly deflated in disappointment. If they'd been in regular contact with the rest of their family and friends, people would have been shocked to see the transformation in his twin.
"It's other people who expect us to be funny and happy all the time", he reminded him. "I on the other hand have a right to be worried when this is the first joke you've made in days."
"Well there's no need for you to worry", Fred snapped. He immediately apologised, seeing the sadness in George's eyes.
"There's every need for me to worry about you", he responded quietly.
Fred opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and continued with rearranging the shelves. George walked over to the till and counted their takings for the day. A pitiful three galleons and that was it; they were going to struggle paying off their investors that month. Even with Harry's one thousand galleons that he had gifted them at the end of their sixth year, it had not been enough to realise their dream. He pulled the investors' contract from a folder behind the register and studied it with a frown. If their financial situation deteriorated much further there was the very real chance that the shop would close down.
"You want lunch?", George turned to look for Fred but he had disappeared. Panicking slightly, he searched the shop and then quickly ran upstairs to their apartment. He found him standing in front of the bathroom mirror, his eyes sunken and his face blotchy.
"I was wondering where you vanished to..." George said as he caught sight of Fred's face. "Are you ok? What's going on Freddie?"
Fred shrugged and walked past him into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of Firewhiskey from the cupboard and slumping into one of the chairs. George followed him, concern for his twin radiating off every inch of him. He sat down in the chair opposite, watching as Fred knocked back mouthfuls of the fiery liquid.
"It's not like you to drink so much", he observed. "If you want to feel more cheerful again, have another chocolate."
Fred nearly spat his mouthful out at the mention of their recent experiment. "Not a good idea", he managed to choke out.
George nodded, swallowing hard, checking that the locks he'd so recently fastened onto his deepest thoughts were secure, locking them even tighter away. "Yeah, we'd better alter the solution before we start selling them to the public. I wonder how many Voldemort would have to eat before he became a happy go lucky person, instead of focusing on his plans for world domination!"
"George! I told you not to say the name!" Fred was looking at him, utterly aghast.
But George grinned and looked around. "I know we're being watched by the death eaters, but they haven't made it a crime yet..."
He was cut off mid sentence by the arrival of a large, tawny screech owl through the kitchen window and yelled in surprise, as it caught him around the head with a powerful wing and came to settle on the table. The most minuscule of smiles found its way onto Fred's face; whilst George rubbed his head.
"Ouch!" He complained, "stupid bird".
Fred got up and rubbed his head affectionately. "No lasting damage", he chuckled. "Maybe now you'll stop being a daredevil and not say the name anymore".
"Says you", George grumbled. "The biggest daredevil of them all."
Clutched in the bird's talons was a piece of parchment. George unrolled it and read the letter aloud.
Dear Fred and George,
Hope you two are ok and behaving yourselves!
We hope to see you at home for dinner on the 15th.
Love Mum x
The twins exchanged looks, immediately understanding that the letter implied a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix rather than a family gathering. George held up the letter's seal, which had clearly been broken and fused together again once the death eaters had finished reading it. It was far too dangerous to put anything incriminating into writing with all their correspondence being carefully monitored.
George frowned as he reread his Mother's letter. "It would have been safer to come and tell us in person", he uttered. "This is bound to make them suspicious."
Fred nodded and came to peer over his shoulder. "Behaving yourselves!" He said with irritation. "What does she think we are five?"
George lifted his head from the letter and regarded him for a moment. "Every time I mention Mum, you get all defensive. I know she said something to you after the Wedding. I just wish you'd tell me what".
"It really doesn't matter", Fred said resisting his twin's entreaty. "Hopefully at this meeting, we'll form some kind of strategy rather than spending hours deliberating over the finer details."
As instructed, on the 15th September the twins left their shop to attend the meeting. Fred was about to step down from the doorstep, but was stopped by George tugging at his elbow. "Look over there", he whispered, his lips barely moving. Fred subtly glanced at where his twin had indicated to see two cloaked figures leaning against a wall further down the alley. It was clear that they were watching the front of their shop, as they had raised their heads when the twins had emerged. The hood of the taller slipped back, partially revealing his face as he stepped forward out of the shadows. It was Augustus Rookwood. Fred stepped protectively in front of George, but it seemed that the death eaters had no other intention but to watch them. He slipped his hand in George's and interlaced their fingers so that they could apparate together. "Come on holey one, let's get out of here before they decide to stop us." George squeezed his hand gently in response, but was extremely concerned for his twin's mental state. One minute he was putting barriers between them and the next being his usual charming self. He could sense however, that Fred wouldn't take too kindly to excessive questioning.
They apparated to the Burrow, arriving just beyond the boundary of the many protective enchantments which had been cast over the dwelling. Fred felt that the shield which they provided was nothing more than an illusion; after all the death eaters had managed to easily overcome them when they had attacked the wedding party. The twins walked up towards the house; the sound of many voices suggested that they were nearly the last ones to arrive. George glanced downwards and nearly started in surprise, realising that they were still holding hands. Fred noticed where he was looking and immediately withdrew, much to George's regret, muttering sorry as he did so.
Mrs Weasley was stood at the door waiting for them. "There you two are", she beamed and seized them both in a hug.
"I hate not being able to see you much, but I suppose it's safer if we keep a low profile and not attract their attention as much as we can." She hugged them both tightly at the same time and ended up knocking their heads together as usual.
George grinned, as the twins rubbed each other's heads. "Mum, we're going to have to ban simultaneous twin hugging."
"Sorry dears", she gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth.
George smiled. "It's fine Mum. We know you're trying to knock sense into us. Isn't she Fred?"
"Yeah", Fred responded quietly. It seemed that their Mother had forgiven and forgotten his baiting of the death eaters at the wedding, as she did after any outburst at the twins. They however, never forget the things that she said to them; even though deep down they knew that she probably didn't mean it. Therefore Fred was still deeply stung by her words, mainly because he believed that she was right.
She ushered them into the kitchen, which was packed to bursting with the Order of the Phoenix. Fred and George stood unobtrusively at the back. Their opinions had never been particularly welcome; in the minds of the more senior members they were there to do what they were told. After the death of Mad Eye, Kingsley Shacklebolt had been elected as their new leader; a dangerous position for him to fulfil with his position at the ministry and already he was under suspect. Fred and George felt that it was only a matter of time before the death eaters uncovered the Order.
As Fred had feared they wasted hours of the precious little time they had in intense debate. The Order needed to raise support or their stance against Voldemort would be dismantled, but the gathered party disputed how they should go about this.
"We need to decide when we make our move", Shacklebolt said.
"We can't do that without gathering support first and we need Harry", Lupin insisted.
"Who seems to have disappeared on us", spoke a witch with raven black hair.
Lupin shook his head. "Harry is on a mission set by Dumbledore. He has not abandoned us".
"We have to trust each other; otherwise this is hopeless". Tonks attempted to calm the angry tensions which had arisen; her pregnancy was beginning to show now and she looked tired and worn out.
"I can gather us support from wizards abroad", Charlie Weasley said. "There's plenty of Witches and Wizards that I've met in Romania who are concerned about what's happening".
"Would they be willing to fight?" Shacklebolt interrupted.
"A good number of them yes," Charlie nodded.
"Numbers aren't the only important thing", Lupin reminded them."We have right on our side and many skilled dualists". Several people turned to look at Fred and George; they had been impressed to hear of the skill they'd displayed at the wedding. George wished that they would value their opinions as well. The group continued to hotly debate what kind of opposition they should mount and who they should attempt to enlist.
"All the aurors are on our side", said Shacklebolt. "At the moment though they're limited to what they can do; the death eaters are watching them like hawks."
"There's something you're overlooking", Fred interjected boldly. The second he opened his mouth to speak, Mrs Weasley glanced at him to be quiet and many of the members looked frankly annoyed at the interruption. Kingsley proceeded to carry on talking, ignoring what Fred had said. Fred however had had enough and was determined to be listened to.
"What's the point of us being here if none of you are interested in hearing our opinions?" He demanded firmly, but managing to retain a calm tone. George nodded beside him and stepped forwards slightly from where he and Fred had been leaning against the wall.
"You never know we might have something useful to say"; George couldn't resist inserting a hint of sarcasm into his voice. Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded stiffly.
"Has nobody thought of talking to the shopkeepers of Diagon Alley-
They have loads of contacts-
Which means we'd be able to boost our numbers-
And they can encourage their customers to support us-
Not to mention they'll be able to provide us with some useful information-
Even death eaters need to shop after all-
The alley might be quieter than it usually is-
But it's not completely dead." George finished.
There was silence in the room, but everybody was nodding. For the first time the rest of the Order were regarding the twins with respect. Finally, Fred thought; they might start taking us more seriously from now on. Beside him George was smiling; Fred turned his head and they shared an amused look. Mrs Weasley beamed at them again, proudly.
"I knew you two had been wasting your brains!" She said excitedly to several chuckles. The twins reddened; ok they had come close to be respected perhaps.
Kingsley stood up, signalling the end of the meeting. "That's your assignment then", he said nodding at the twins. "See if you get more people to promise us support. Meanwhile we bide our time, wait for Harry to contact us. And everybody stay safe."
"Fancy going for a drink", Fred suggested as they walked back down the path towards the boundary line. George grinned at him and slung an arm affectionately around his shoulders.
"Sure. Eh we surprised a few people back there."
Fred grinned too, "maybe now we'll be able to speak more without Mum constantly shushing us."
George nodded. "That's always been people's problem with us hasn't it? They're not interested unless we're entertaining them and lighting their day up."
"Well if it's any consolation I'll always find you interesting", he smiled leaning in to him.
Amicably, they apparated to The Leaky Cauldron, which despite the dark times was packed to the rafters with revellers. Fred shifted through his pockets for money. "Damn I don't have anything."
"I've got enough for a bottle, we'll have to share. I don't know, you invite me on a date and make me pay", he teased.
Fred blushed slightly and picked up the drinks menu to hide it. "Technically, it's both our money anyway. Unless you suddenly want to have separate accounts."
George tried to peer over the top of the menu, but Fred raised it an inch higher to hide his still crimson face. "Nah, I trust you not to splash it all", he grinned. "Am I going to be talking to the menu all evening?"
Fred dropped it onto the table, hoping that George hadn't noticed the effect his teasing had had on him. George left his seat to go up to the bar; whilst Fred attempted to pull himself together. Stop it, just stop it, he thought desperately. George quickly returned bearing a bottle of firewhiskey. "I would have brought us glasses, but I don't think Tom has cleaned them in several weeks," he chuckled, as he took a swig from the bottle and pushed it across to Fred. He hadn't wiped it.
Fred panicked, should he wipe the top, but then George might be offended; on the other hand if he didn't wipe it with his sleeve George might become suspicious to what he was feeling... He quickly realised that he was being paranoid, they'd always shared things and never spared a thought for wiping the top. He took a sip, tasting the strong but delicious liquid, as well as a hint of something that he'd tasted in their laboratory. How he wanted to reveal to George what he felt. In the end George drank most of the bottle, as Fred had only taken tiny sips and had become rather tipsy. He giggled about nothing, his shoulders shaking with mirth.
Fred laughed, "let's go before you start dancing Georgie. I don't want you to embarrass me! We'll walk up the street; you'll throw up if we apparate."
Fred slipped an arm around his shoulders and supported his weight as they left the pub and slowly progressed back to their shop. George was still laughing as he slipped an arm around his waist. "I loooooove you Freddie!" He said happily.
"And I love you too, you great prat"; he moved his arm to George's waist to hold him tighter. "Gee I thought you were the responsible one".
"I am... wouldn't have let you drink all that that.."
"Whiskey?", Fred offered unable to keep a straight face.
"That is precisely the word I was looking for, knew we were psychic!"
Fred smiled at him lovingly as they came in sight of their shop. "You know you're even more adorable when you're tipsy Georgie."
George smiled and put both arms around his neck, leaning in close...
It was at that moment that Fred noticed the shop was aglow with light, which served as an immediate indicator that something was very wrong. Fred set off at a sprint, dragging George behind him by the hand who was stumbling along; the moment broken. They entered through the front door which was wide open and paused in horror to see the carnage that the death eaters had created. Shelves had been knocked over, products smashed and potions had been spilled all over the floor, leaving behind a multicoloured mess that oozed around their feet.
Several death eaters emerged from where they had been searching the storeroom. "Rookwood, Dolohov", Fred spat. "What the hell do you think you're doing breaking in here".
Rockwood stepped towards them, his wand held out threateningly. "Oh my dear friend, you misunderstand us", he said in a mocking voice. He unfolded a piece of parchment which could be easily identified as an official ministry document. "We have permission to search your establishment for evidence of links with the Order of the Phoenix. I'm sure you don't object to a government order?"
"We object to any orders as a matter of fact!" Fred seethed.
"And look at the mess you've made, your orders didn't give you permission to do that!" George slurred.
"Careful now, you don't want to seem like you've got something to hide", Dolohov sneered at them. "Where have you been these last few hours".
"Why? Did we stay up past our bedtime", George replied dryly. Fred placed a hand gently on his shoulder, warning George not to bait them. It wasn't worth getting hurt for, not worth George being in pain at all. George glanced at him and swallowed back another sarcastic comment.
"We had dinner at home, then went out for a drink", Fred spoke calmly, hoping that if they cooperated the death eaters would leave.
"Obviously". Rockwood took in George's drunken state and the missing ear. He laughed nastily. "Something missing ugly?" George placed a hand self consciously where his ear had been, to find a gaping hole and rough scar tissue. He felt himself tearing up; he'd been right everybody apart from Fred would find him ugly now.
Anger was evident in Fred's voice as he told the death eaters in no uncertain terms to clear out.
"I think we can be satisfied that there's nothing here", Rookwood said. "Be assured that If I get as much of a thread linking you to the Order, that I will have great pleasure in coming to arrest you."
Once they had left Fred slammed the door shut, quaking with rage. How dare they insult George.
"Well we'd better get started clearing this mess up..." George suggested, his voice quivering slightly.
Fred pulled him into a tight embrace. "We'll leave it until tomorrow", he said softly against his hair. "Don't you ever think that this injury makes you ugly. It shows how brave you were Georgie. We can always grow our hair out a little to cover our ears."
"I suppose, but don't you think it's better shorter for the time being. We wouldn't be much use in a battle with it flopping into our eyes," he sniffed.
Fred nodded. "Alright, but don't be self conscious."
"I'm not...It's funny really... Lots of jokes to be made," he tried to insist but Fred raised a hand.
"Don't lie, I know you are and it's ok to be with me. I'm hardly going to accuse you of being vain now am I?"
George shook his head. "No, it's just that...It's stupid really".
"What is Georgie?" Fred inquired gently.
"No one's going to want to go out with someone who's missing an ear", he blurted out. Fred took a deep breath before replying.
"Anyone who can't get over that doesn't deserve you Saint Georgie". He stroked his cheek with his thumb. "Head up". George smiled at him gratefully and they went upstairs to bed. Fred tucked the edges of the duvet around his twin, lost in thought. George wants a girlfriend. He hated the thought as jealous feelings spread through him. If things couldn't be the way that he wanted them to be, then he wanted them to stay exactly as they were. Later as he stared at the ceiling, all his attempts to fall asleep thwarted, he heard George whimpering in his sleep. He immediately leaped out of bed and went to sit on the edge of George's bed to stroke his twin's face in a soothing manner. Hesitating, he slipped under the duvet with him, spooning up to him. George's whimpers quickly ceased as he reached out in his sleep to feel his twin beside him.