Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N: Special thanks to my Beta Anie.
"So this is Hogwarts," Alice commented as she stepped off the carriage and stared up at the looming castle in the distance. It was more incredible than she had ever imagined, and a far cry from the modern Salem Witches Institute, which had sported a sprawling campus with red brick structures, student apartments that resembled condos and an indoor pool. In comparison, Hogwarts was rustic in a medieval sort of way.
She walked down the stone path toward the castle, her long black robes billowing around her ankles in the cool wind. Overhead, dark clouds moved in, threatening to storm. At least the weather was the same.
The voices of students blended around her, and she wondered if this year would be different. Back home in Massachusetts, the kids had been snobbish and rich; Alice had felt out of place among their masses; she relied on her mother's cosmetic abilities to make her look the part, but there had always been a gap between her and the other students. She had been the outcast. But a new school meant new friends, right?
Alice watched a group of kids walking ahead of her, laughing together. She had been disappointed when she had failed to find Fred and George on the train. She spotted Ginny sitting with a group of friends, but had balked when mustering the courage to go sit with her, and had ended up alone in a compartment for the whole trip.
Once she reached the castle, Alice tried to push the negative thoughts out of her head. This was a fresh start, she could do this. Upon seeing a crowd of students, she recognized the lion badge on their robes as the Gryffindor seal, the House she had been placed in on recommendation of Professor Dumbledore himself. She followed them down to the Great Hall, fear giving way to excitement at the opportunities ahead of her.
"Are you sure you're okay to do this?" George's voice cut into Fred's thoughts. They were waiting outside Dumbledore's office during the welcoming feast, and although he knew that his brother meant well, Fred was finding George's voice to be incessantly annoying. Due to Mrs. Weasley's letter, Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall had wanted to talk to Fred as soon as he arrived at school. But as the entire school was buzzing about some big, upcoming event, so their meeting was delayed.
Fred didn't mind waiting. He was secretly relieved; this way he would miss the feast and not have to face the entire school at once. He shuddered at the thought of what they would say, seeing him in a wheelchair.
"Yeah, I'm fine, will you stop asking?" Fred demanded.
"Sorry," George sighed, trying to ignore his stomach growling. He had promised Fred earlier that he would stick by him during the meeting, and besides, what kind of twin would he be leaving Fred alone while he stuffed his face full? "But I can practically smell the dessert from here; you know I have a weakness for chocolate!"
"You don't have to wait with me," Fred said firmly, although deep down he hoped that George would stay. The last couple of days George had been working hard; he had taken it upon himself to help Fred dress and bathe, since the paralysis made it so difficult for Fred to do those things himself. His heart went out to his brother, but whenever he was alone the fear was unbearable.
George popped the brake on Fred's wheelchair. "Then let's go down to the Great Hall and eat, I'm starving and we've hardly spoken to anyone since we got here."
Fred stared guiltily at the ground. In isolating himself from his friends, he had unintentionally isolated George, who had stayed by his side rather than to catch up with Lee, Alicia, Katie, and Angelina on the train. How could he possibly explain his feelings without losing George, too? He never asked his twin to make the sacrifices he did, yet he depended on him so much now.
"I don't want to go in there and have everyone gawking at me like I'm some kind of freak," Fred insisted almost too quietly for George to hear; but he knew George had heard him because his chair had abruptly stopped moving. George's breathing filled the silence in the hall around them; Fred could sense his brother behind him, considering his words.
George squeezed Fred's shoulder. He then came around to Fred's line of sight, grinning. "I'll sneak you down to the kitchens later, then," he said, genuine understanding in his eyes.
Fred grinned back. "Sounds like a plan, bro."
"I'll borrow the map from Harry so that nobody spots us," George continued, his eyes bright with the anticipation of another late night escapade, just like old times before everything fell apart. He tipped Fred's chair back and balanced himself on the small basket mounted on the back, coasting down the hall and attempting a wheelie with them both on the chair. He lost control and they crashed into a wall.
They were still laughing when a voice shattered the moment. "MR. WEASLEY!"
George turned a shade of red as bright as his hair, picking himself up off the floor and making sure Fred was all right. "Sorry, Professor!"
"I'm sure you are." Professor McGonagall stood with her arms folded across her chest, her eyes sharp and piercing like a hawk's. Dumbledore looked slightly amused, his eyes twinkling, and Madam Pomfrey simply looked appalled.
"Honestly, George, do you really think it's a good idea to fool around like that with your brother in his condition?" she demanded rather sternly. After they had ended up in the Hospital Wing so many times because of their wild antics, Madam Pomfrey was on a first name basis with the twins; she liked it that way, though. Deep down the school nurse had a fondness for the clowns.
"Fred's not complaining, are you bro?" George grinned mischievously.
"It's all in good fun, love, don't sweat it," Fred insisted.
Madam Pomfrey sighed, following Dumbledore into his office, muttering, "In all my years here I've never met a pair so eager to nearly kill themselves…"
Inside Dumbledore's office George helped himself to a lollipop from a bowl on the desk and then sat back to listen to what both boys expected to be a long and boring lecture on their mother's concerns.
"Your mother expressed a lot of anxiety over you coming back to school, Fred," Professor McGonagall began, looking Fred directly in the eyes. She still hadn't gotten over the shock of seeing him so incapacitated. Normally Fred Weasley was a hurricane of energy that bounced off the walls, creating mayhem and chaos for everyone and everything he came in contact with. "She said you've been quite ill these past couple of weeks, but she is adamant about you continuing your education and leading as normal a life as possible until we can figure out what's happened to you," she reached across the table and gave Fred's hand a reassuring squeeze.
He almost jerked his hand away. She sounded so optimistic. Until we can figure out what happened…Up until now, he had been too lost in the pain to really stop and realize that he had no idea what was wrong. No idea if he would survive this, whatever it was.
"How can I have a normal life if I can't walk?" Fred demanded, looking around at the three adults. "How am I supposed to get around the school if I'm stuck in this chair—how—how am I supposed to play Quidditch?"
The lollipop practically fell out of George's mouth. He had forgotten about Quidditch, which was just about as big a part of Fred's life as it was to he himself.
Dumbledore nodded understandably. "Quidditch sessions have been cancelled this year due to the Triwizard Tournament," he explained.
Fred felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. Good; he didn't have to worry about being replaced. He didn't think he would be able to withstand watching someone else play Beater alongside George. But still, how was he going to navigate the stairs? Back home, he didn't have to worry about such things. His mother had kept him in bed, safe, where he couldn't hurt himself. He was beginning to feel that that had been an unwise decision.
Dumbledore rested a hand on his shoulder, and, as if he had read his mind, he said, "We're going to allow you to use some spells that will make things much easier for you."
"Staircases can easily be turned into ramps with the Glisseo charm," Professor McGonagall explained, demonstrating with her wand. "To open a door you say Alohomora. I'm sure you will have no problem using these spells since you've learned them in your classes."
Fred gazed at his own wand doubtfully. He wasn't sure if that would work; already he could feel a headache throbbing behind his eyelids. That was another problem. How was he going to attend classes if these headaches persisted?
"If you don't feel up to it, Mr. Weasley, I'm sure your brother would be more than willing to help you," Professor McGonagall said kindly, her eyes flitting in George's direction.
"Of course I don't mind," George insisted, glancing worriedly at his brother. Fred's silence was starting to scare him. He didn't have to be so afraid, not when George was with him. He'd have to talk to Fred later, when they were alone. Maybe then he would open up.
"Your mother explained about your headaches, and I'll make sure I have a supply of potions on hand to help you deal with the pain," Madam Pomfrey spoke up. "If you're too sick to go to class, don't hesitate to tell me and we can arrange for your homework to be brought to you."
Fred looked up. His eyes were riddled with uncertainty and pain, but a grin managed to spread across his face. "Homework?" he repeated. "Ah, now you're just torturing me."
George breathed a sigh of relief, and McGonagall actually laughed. "I'm glad your sense of humor is still intact, Mr. Weasley."
Fred and George left Dumbledore's office in much better spirits. They headed up to their dormitory, knowing they probably had a lot of explaining to do with when it came time to face their friends.
They didn't have long to wait, for no sooner had George opened the portrait hole and helped Fred inside, they were bombarded by several voices at once.
"Hello, ladies," Fred joked, smiling widely at Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. Lee was standing by the sofa, and George spotted Alice hanging back by the fireplace.
Five jaws dropped.
Then Angelina screamed, "What the hell happened to you?!"
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Evenstar606
