Awakening…

George gripped his stomach. Maybe skipping breakfast wasn't a good idea. He could practically feel his stomach turning inside out from hunger. He swallowed and tried to get himself to pay attention to whatever it was that Professor Umbridge was telling them but it was impossible for him to listen to her voice. It was about the same frequency that dogs could hear, it hurt his ears so much. And it wasn't like she was actually teaching them anything. They weren't even allowed to bring their wands to class anymore. George felt like he was a First Year student again.

George very lightly turned his head when he felt a nudge in his side. Fred was resting with his arms and chin on his desk. Being crouched down at the back of the room helped them get away with talking on most occasions. Umbridge hadn't said anything if she ever caught them or not.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked. George fought the urge to roll his eyes. That's the only thing that came out of Fred's mouth lately. He appreciated that his brother cared but he was caring a bit too much.

"Yeah, just a little hungry," George replied, his lips barely moving.

"I can get something for you," Fred told him, his lips also barely moving.

"You'll get in trouble."

"Not if you create a diversion."

"Right, then." George slowly lifted his wand out of a concealed pocket in his robes. He held it under his desk, pointing it at a book that Umbridge had given them at the start of class, Dark Arts Defense: Basics for Beginners. George wanted to hit the ol' bat with it as soon as he saw it. Once her back was turned he quietly whispered, "Expulso." The book exploded with a loud bang and caused the Hufflepuff student who was sitting behind it to fall backwards in his chair. George pressed his lips together to keep from laughing out loud at the stunned look on Umbridge's face. He could hear Fred laughing quietly next to him as he slipped off his chair. "Expulso. Expulso. Expulso."

One by one books on their desks exploded, some explosions were bigger than others. One explosion, for example, knocked a Slythering student into the wall that he was sitting next to, causing books to fall off of the shelves.

"Order! Order! I will have order!" Umbridge shrieked as some of the female students' shrieks got louder when the books started to explode near them. All the while George was chuckling. He wiped his smile off of his face when he saw Angelina whip her head around and glare in their general direction. Finally the commotion died down. A pungent smell of gunpowder drifted past his nose as burned remains of books lay on the table in perfect circles as if a bomb went off. At the front of the room Umbridge's face matched the color of her pink robes and her chest was heaving as her beady eyes moved around the room to find the culprit. "Who dares to disrupt my class?" Umbridge demanded.

"Don't you know? The Weasley Twins are always the culprit when something goes wrong around here," A pinch-faced Slytherin said as he turned in his chair to look at George.

George made a face at the Slytherin student and wiped his face clean. "How could I have done it? I don't have my wand on me. Last I checked it was forbidden to have our wands in a Defense Against the Dark Arts calls," George said as innocently as he could, putting emphasis on certain words to help Umbridge realize how ridiculous her rules were.

Umbridge's lips twitched as she tried to find something to say. Her eyes never left his face until she turned around and stalked to the front of the room. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for the interruption," she barked.

George's mouth dropped open. "That's not fair!" He cried out amongst the other Gryffindors in the room.

"And Mr. Weasley I'll see you in detention," Umbridge added.

"What? Me? Why?"

"I've been told specifically by Mr. Filch about you and your brother," Umbridge replied, waving her wand. The pile of ashes that used to be their book pressed together and formed a brand new version of their books, as if they weren't left in a smoldering pile of ash in the first place. A sinister smile formed on her face but, to anyone else, it would've looked like a sweet smile. "Many things," she clarified at the confused look on George's face. "And I know that you have something to do with this disruption as well as trying to cover up the disappearance of the other Mr. Weasley."

"What do you mean?" Fred asked so suddenly that George almost jumped. He didn't even notice that Fred had gotten back to his seat, which meant he did his job well, but at what price? "I've been sitting here the whole time."

"Twenty more points from Gryffindor for lying," Umbridge announced, causing the Gryffindor students to groan again. This time Angelina shot a firey glare in Fred's direction, which was nothing new. It didn't faze him as he resumed his position on his desk, this time rolling his eyes. "Now, as I was saying about the Stunning Spell…"

"Sorry," Fred whispered. Underneath the table he pressed a Pumpkin Pasty into George's hand. "I can help get you out of Detention."

"No, it's alright. What's she going to make me do? Alphabetize our drawer in Filch's office for every little thing we did wrong?" George asked with a roll of his eyes. "It shouldn't be too bad."

"But with the way Angelina was glaring at is she made it look like you killed her parents," Fred replied. "Oh, Quidditch," he said nonchalantly. Angelina had been acting a bit like Oliver Wood since she was made Captain but a bit more on the bite side. However, it didn't scare Fred and George since they knew her weaknesses and knew how to give out "The Weasley Charm" to off-put her anger. "You might be late?"

"Doubtful, this is my last class. I can just do detention and then go right out to Quidditch after that," George replied. He tilted his head and feigned to wipe it and took a bite of his Pumpkin Pasty. His stomach constricted at the food that went down but he kept it down and gave Fred a thankful smile. On top of his desk his free hand started to curl and his knuckles drummed against the table. His lips quivered slightly and he pulled the bottom one between his teeth to keep from puking right then and there. Come on, you have to keep it down or else Fred will get suspicious,' he told himself.

Time in the class dragged by. George felt like a wanted criminal by the way Umbridge kept looking at him. He did make books explode, but it was a little joke He didn't splinch someone's arm off and beat them over the head with it. He curled his lip in disgust whenever she called on him, as if waiting to catch him off guard. Just because he didn't like to study didn't mean he didn't know what was going on. He answered every question with ease, practically repeating the text word from word. His frowned turned to a smirk every time he answered a question right and the smile on her face turned sour.

"I'm telling you, she has it out for you," Lee said as he, Fred, and George left the dark classroom.

"She's just a sour old toad," Fred added. "Do you want me to talk to her?" he asked, lightly nudging George.

George shook his head. "I can handle it," he replied.

"Hey, you never finished your pasty," Fred noted.

"Saving it for later," George replied. "I had an upset stomach. Something I ate last night, I think."

"But…you didn't eat much."

Internally George started to panic. He was slipping up. "I ate something after everyone went to bed." He lowered his voice so only Fred could hear him over the other students. "I snuck into the kitchens. The elves were happy to give me something extra but I'm kind of worried about where it's been."

Fred laughed. "OK, we're going to wreak some havoc. If you're late to practice I'll try and talk Angelina down."

"Thanks mate." George turned right back around and went into the classroom. He took the few set of stairs and knocked on the door. He heard a very soft and muffled answer so he entered. The sight of the lace and the moving kitten pictures along the pink wall made him want to throw-up right then and there. He looked around at the room of pink in horror as Umbridge calmly poured sugar into her tea and then stirred it. "Look, can we get this over with? I have Quidditch practice," George said impatiently.

Umbridge smiled at him in a way that made his skin crawl. "Ah, Mr. Weasley, please take a seat," she said, indicating to the lone desk and chair that was in front of her desk.

He collapsed into it with a thud, glaring at her. She got up and slowly walked over to him. "The one thing I won't accept is someone disrupting my class, but I always don't accept pranks or jokes of any kind."

"More like any fun of any kind," George muttered under his breath. He was already bored and he hadn't done anything yet.

Umbridge paused but continued. "I want you to write 'I must not pull pranks'," she said as she presented him with a piece of paper and a quill.

"How many lines?" George asked. Most teachers made him write something at least twenty times and then clean something wandless. He was a fast writer and he figured he could knock them both out easily.

The malicious smile returned to her lips. "Until it sinks in," she replied.

"There's no—"

"You won't need it."

"Mental, that one is," George muttered before pressing his quill to the paper. A few scratches into the surface and he felt a strange prickly feeling in the back of his left hand. He ignored it and kept writing, but the prickling to worse. He looked at his hand and saw that the back of it was red when it was pale skin before. Shrugging, he went back to work, writing. This time he sucked in his breath when he felt like the back of his hand had been cut open with a needle. Words in shiny, red ink started to form on the paper. George's eyebrows crinkled together as he studied the quill, wondering where the red ink came from.

He made another scratched to start the next line and let out a startled cry of pain. He looked at the back of his hand and saw a scratch; little beads of blood already made it to the surface and were starting to blend together. At the pause in scratching Umbridge lifted her head and looked at George.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Weasley?" She asked.

George bit his lip to keep himself from going off on the woman so he went back to writing. The more he wrote the more the phrase was scratched into the back of his hand. After a while it felt like someone was pouring hot water onto the back of his hand. Blood was slowly dripping onto the desk and by the time Umbridge stopped him it was curled into a fist, one he wanted to smash into her face.

As soon as he left the classroom the school bell grabbed his attention. "Oh great," he groaned, grabbing his stomach as it screamed for food. He'd have to miss lunch now and go straight to Quidditch practice. As he walked down the slopes of the lawn towards the Quidditch pitch he tried to think of the best spell to make his 'injury' less noticeable, at least that's what he planned on referring to his hand.

He quickly changed into his uniform and grabbed his broom. He got to the back of the crowd this team had formed as soon as Angelina wrapped up her speech. George heard it a million times before but Ron, being new to the team as their Keeper, was listening as if Angelina's speech was riveting.

"It's about time you showed up," she commented. Everyone's eyes turned to George who leaned against his broom nonchalantly.

"I felt like skipping the lecture. You tend to repeat things that Wood has said and I'm not really fond of hearing it again," he explained. "So, you ready to fly everyone?"

George took the Beater bat that Fred was holding out to him and straddled his brook. With one hard kick off the ground he was in the air, the wind whistled in his ears as he quickly climbed up into the sky. He loved the feeling of being on a brook and in the air. There was nothing more freeing than that.

"Hey, how was detention?" Fred asked, flying near him.

"Not too bad," George replied with a shrug. "She made me write lines." He felt a pang of guilt for lying to Fred's face, but it wasn't a complete lie. He did write lines. Fred didn't need to know about the rest.

"What'd she make you write?" Fred asked.

"'I must not pull pranks'," George replied. "Come on, it wasn't even intended to be a prank. It was supposed to be a diverse but of course ol' Toad Face doesn't know the difference."

"Hey, Weasleys," Angelina called from her broomstick.

"Yes, Madam Captain?" Fred asked. Next to him, George snickered. Fred felt his heart swell. It was good to be talking and joking with George again. Fred had felt like half of him was missing when they weren't talking.

"Cute," Angelina mumbled. "We have a match to prepare for! Pay attention, please."

The twins smirked at each other before wheeling their brooms around and racing around the pitch going in two different directions. They eventually turned it into a race, who could reach a certain goal post first, or who could hit this one Bludger first? It was fun that Fred hadn't had at Qudittich practice in a while and it relaxed him, more than going to Hogsmeade did or a lazy Saturday on the lawn near the lake.

Fred quickly rolled over his broom, much like a sloth, until he was sitting upright on it again. He heard George's unmistakable laughter. Music to his ears. "What're you laughing at, Gred, you could've killed me!" Fred yelled to him.

"Wouldn't have to worry about it if you were paying attention," George replied.

"We'll see who's paying attention," Fred muttered, grabbing the handle of his broom and racing off. He searched around for the nearest Bludger to hit at George to get him back. He found one hurtling towards Katie who was racing with the Quaffle past Angelina and Katie who tried to block her while Harry circled above, looking for the snitch.

Fred brought his arm back and swung. With a successful crack the bat hit the ball and was sent flying at George. Fred laughed at George's surprised face but the look instantly disappeared when it hit George's hand and he clutched it to his chest.

"I'm sorry, Georgie, I was just joking around," Fred apologized as he followed George to the ground. Above him Angelina's whistle sounded and the next thing he knew he was surrounded by scarlet and gold on the ground.

"Oh, it's just a scratch," George said as he waved his hand, as if to flick the blood off. Fred's eyebrows crinkled together. He knew the Bludger hit his twin but he didn't think it was hard enough to cause him to bleed like that.

"Let me see," Angelina said, pushing forward.

"No, I got it," Katie said quickly, taking out her wand. She grasped George's hand and tapped the back of it lightly. "Tergeo."

George tensed as the blood was sucked off the back of his hand and into the wand. He quickly pulled his hand out of Katie's grip but gave her a smile. Fred noticed a hurt look flashed in her eyes before it was quickly replaced with a smile in return.

"Are you alright?" Alicia asked George. When he nodded she rounded on Fred. "You shouldn't have done that!"

"But I—" Fred started, his mouth falling open.

"I don't care if it was a joke! He could've really gotten hurt!"

"Wha-? But I—he…he started!" Fred spluttered, pointing at George.

"Yeah, Leese, it was all my fault," George jumped in. "I shouldn't have provoked him. I not hurt, really. I'm fine."

"Yeah, but in this case I'm finishing practice now just in case you two decide to behead each other for fun," Angelina replied, picking up her broom and walking off with Alicia and Katie. Katie gave George a little wave over her shoulder.

"I think she fancies you," Fred told him while watching Harry and Ron walk off. Ron glanced at them over his shoulder and Fred pulled a face, causing Ron to quickly turn back around.

"Who?" George asked.

"Katie," Fred replied. "It's obvious."

"Kate?" George repeated and then he shook his head. "Nah, we're just friends."

"That doesn't matter, I still think she fancies you. She was quick to help her Ickle Georgie," Fred said, pinching George's cheek. "Which is another matter. Your hand—"

"Oh, the Bludger just grazed me, that's all," George replied. "Come on; let's get back to the castle before Ron eats everything. You know his appetite."

"Yeah…" Fred said slowly, following his brother back to the castle. They dropped their brooms off in a closet along the way and raced each other back to the castle. Fred went straight to dinner in the Great Hall but George decided to take a shower first. He finally came back when the dessert came out.

"Huh, guess I was in the shower longer than I thought," George muttered as Fred pushed a large bowl of pudding in front of him.

"Saved you your favorite dessert," Fred said proudly. George smiled his thanks and took a spoonful. "So I was thinking, about our snacks, maybe we can do something on the funny side. Like, make some that will give people acne that spell words like 'git' or 'prat' on their forehead." Fred looked up when he noticed that George hadn't said anything and laughed when he saw George wolfing down his dessert. "Whoa, George. You're acting like you've never eaten before."

George paused with his tongue on his spoon. Lee, Alicia, and Katie were laughing while Angelina frowned at them. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately, as if Quidditch took away her funny bone. George blushed and put his spoon down, wiping his mouth with his bandaged hand.

"The food here's really good, almost better than Mum's," he explained.

"Don't let her hear you say that," Alicia laughed. "I went to their house for Christmas one time and every time we weren't eating she'd try to give me more food. I swear, she was trying to fatten me up."

"Mum gets a little overzealous when people come over," George explained. "She likes for them to feel right at home."

"Ok, well, enough of this chit-chat. Lee, George, we have some business to do," Fred said as he got up from the table. "I'll see you lovely ladies later," he added with a wink in the girls' direction. Katie and Alicia smiled and waved them goodbye while Angelina scowled and stabbed her fork into her mini gelatin mold.

Lee, George, and Fred and made it through the portrait hole when they were stopped by Hermione. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her jaw was clenched. "Whoa, she looks like Mum did the time we bewitched mud to fly around the house," Fred muttered.

"And we only wanted to give the Burrow some color," George agreed.

Lee shrank away from Hermione's gaze. Behind her Harry and Ron stood, looking uncomfortable. Fred gave Hermione his best charming smile. "To what do we owe this pleasure?" He asked her.

"George?" She asked, looking back and forth between the twins.

"Yes?" The twins asked simultaneously.

A muscle in Hermion's jaw jumped. "What happened to his hand?" Hermione asked, nodding towards George.

"Bludger accident," George and Fred replied in unison.

"Ron says something different."

"Does he now?" George asked, turning to Ron.

"Yes, and I have an idea of what it is," Hermione continued. "If you'd let me see your hand."

"Why, Hermione, are you trying to ask me out? Is that why you want me hand?" George asked. Hermione huffed. "I'm flattered, Hermione, really I am, but you're just not my type. You're a little too much on the goody-goody side, you know?"

Fred made a snorting sound as he tried not to laugh. "Did you have detention today?" Hermione demanded.

"That's a little private—whoa!" Before George could even move Hermione dove for his hand and had his bandages on the floor in a matter of seconds. She grabbed his hand and held it out to the others.

"You see! I told you Harry," Hermione said triumphantly.

"Told you what?" George demanded, snatching his hand back.

"What was that?" Fred asked quietly. George turned his panicked eyes to his brother. Fred took his hand and looked at the back. He lightly traced his finger over the words that was carved into his skin. "Detention?" Fred asked. George took his hand away and nodded. "What did the bat do to you?"

"It's a Blood Quill," Harry spoke up. He lifted his hand as well.

At the confused look on Fred's face Hermione clarified, "A blood quill is a type of quill that does not require ink, as it writes with the blood of the person using it. What the user writes will be imprinted onto the back of their hand, and an amount of blood will be magically siphoned and be used as ink on the parchment. Continuous use of it will eventually scar the back of the hand."

"Do you have to go back?" Fred demanded.

George nodded. "A couple more times," he whispered.

"Over my dead body! This is ridiculous! We're students, not inmates! She has to be stopped, or taught a lesson."

"Our thoughts exactly," Hermione spoke up for Harry and Ron. "The first Hogsmeade weekend, we're holding a meeting for people who want to learn how to use defensive spells, all that bit. Would you two be interested?"

"Any way to get her out of here," George replied, rubbing the back of his hand.

"Quite right. Nobody hurts my brother and gets away with it," Fred replied. The look in his eye and the tone of his voice were so dark George actually shivered.