TW: This chapter contains oblique references to sexual assault. Nothing is seen, but there are comments that may cause a trigger.
April 1990
Fred came flying down the stairs, grabbing his brother who was in the common room, yelling over his shoulder as he dragged his brother through the portrait hole, "Sorry Lee, forgot about an appointment."
"What are you talking about?!" George yelled indignantly.
In response, Fred simply held up the map.
"Another one?"
"Yes, how long have you noticed?"
"I've seen them a few times, but it's been seventh years." George saw Fred's jaw tighten at the comment. "Why? Who is it this time?" he hurried to his brother's side.
Both boys looked at the map for a moment. "I don't know the name," Fred said, "but I asked Charlie, and he didn't know her."
"Fourth…? Younger...?" At that comment, both boys took off running.
At a dead sprint and from thirty feet away they called, "CHOCOLATE FROGS!" The gargoyle was as spry as always and was out of the way with the door open, so they didn't slow down, skipping stairs on the moving stairs in their hurry.
"Professor!" they yelled together as they burst into his office.
Dumbledore seemed amused by their interruption. "Yes boys? Another death eater?" He asked lightly.
"Worse," George said.
"You need to get to Professor Hornby's quarters. Immediately."
"What?" Dumbledore asked lightly.
"I promise Professor, this isn't a prank. We'll wait out in the hallway for you to return, and we can explain. But you need to get there. Now!" Fred was truly distraught.
Dumbledore measured the boys and quickly took them at their word. He nodded and pulled two chairs out, and they sat as the Headmaster fairly fled to the personal quarters of his Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.
While the boys were sitting, they saw the Sorting Hat and figured talking to the Hat might be better than what both of them were doing: imagining what was happening in other parts of the castle and the rescue they had sent to…Neither boy could finish the thought.
"Hello, Mr. Hat," George called, and the hat seemed to shake itself awake.
"Ah. The twins," the Hat said with an odd smile. "I'm surprised to see you here again. More trouble in the castle?"
"Yes," Fred answered looking a little green, "but let's not talk about that."
"Agreed," George said. "How many twins have you sorted?" he directed the conversation.
"Oh, interesting. Not many. Maybe a few hundred in my thousand years," it answered.
"And do they always go into the same house?" Fred asked.
"No," the Hat answered quickly, before elaborating, "sometimes it depends on which twin is sorted first. If the second twin is unsure of him or herself, they may wish to be with their twin, whereas if they are more confident they may strike out on their own. Other times, the twins feel a need to differentiate themselves if they have considered themselves to be in their twin's shadow."
"Had you sorted us in a different order, do you think that would have happened?" Fred asked, wholly interested.
"Certainly not. You two are halves of the same coin for now. You have built your identity together." The hat seemed to nod its tip. "You will always be great together."
"Only together?" George asked, appearing concerned.
"No. You're both brilliant, and if you were more interested in learning than causing mayhem would have done well in Ravenclaw," the Hat answered wistfully, "Given the dark times in the past decades, I think bringing laughter is truly important, and gaining knowledge to multiply laughter-are there nobler pursuits than that?"
Suddenly, the boys noticed a stirring and a golden red bird stood from its perch in the corner of the office and disappeared in a fireball.
"That was interesting," Fred and George said together dryly and looked at each other. They were getting there.
The hat chuckled. "See? You thrive on being close to each other. You want to be close. Both of you are secure enough to push to be closer together."
"It's rare for that in twins so young," one of the portraits spoke up, startling the boys and causing both of them to lean back in their chairs so only two legs were on the ground, to flail attempting to bring themselves forward. Unfortunately, their arms caught together and hurried the fall, and they both looked up at a portrait of an elderly woman smiling down on them. "I should know, I was one."
"Really?" Fred asked from where he still lay on the floor. Both boys scrambled up, George resetting the chairs while Fred took a few steps to read the plaque under the speaking portrait, "Euphraxia Mole?"
"Indeed and indeed. My sister and I wanted to differentiate ourselves as much as possible-wearing different clothes and developing different personalities," she said a bit sadly. "It was not until we were much older and hadn't seen each other for many years when we desired to see each other again. When we did, we realized how close to each other we really were-and how much we missed."
The boys were enthralled. They had never met another twin, although they shared a look. 'Did this really count?' Fred seemed to ask. George just shrugged and turned back. They talked with Euphraxia for a long time, although it wasn't as thrilling as they had hoped. She was, after all, just a portrait, although she shared some of her stories of being a twin.
About forty minutes later, Fawkes reappeared with a flash, grabbed both boys by the hand, pulled them upright, and flashed again, bringing them to the Hospital Wing and dropping them in front of Professor Dumbledore, who looked shaken.
"Alright boys, I believe an explanation is in order."
"I noticed about two weeks ago-" George started
"You let this continue for two weeks?" Dumbledore's face and tone darkened while power and anger radiated from him
"No, sir!" Fred exclaimed. "We both noticed a seventh year girl was in his quarters, but we didn't think much of it. Or I didn't, until one night, I couldn't sleep and checked again well after curfew, and the girl was still there, but she was seventeen…" he trailed off.
"I noticed the same girl in one night and the next morning," George answered.
"But tonight, I decided to check and neither of us recognized the name. Charlie didn't know either, so we figured she had to be younger," Fred answered. "As soon as we realized that, we ran as fast as we could to you."
Dumbledore gave them a piercing gaze.
"What does the age of seventeen have to do with anything?" he asked quietly.
"Well.." Fred started
"Adults?" George answered, but it came out as a question.
Dumbledore had several looks flit across his face at that, but chief among them however, were exasperation and disappointment. "Legal adulthood does not matter. If you see anything improper like that happening again, do not hesitate. At the first instance, please inform me at once, and let me decide whether the individuals involved are acting appropriately. Can you please give me the names that you recall seeing previously?"
The boys exchanged a few comments and gave a list of four young women.
"Professor," George said as the conversation seemed to be ending, "is she ok?"
Dumbledore looked pained and simply answered, "I believe Henrietta will be. It has been a trying evening for her."
"Who is she? Neither of us recognized her name," Fred asked.
"Henrietta Williams is a second year Hufflepuff." Dumbledore answered sadly.
Both of the twins turned green with disgust and sadness, leaning into each other to try and stay upright.
"Thank you for helping her," Dumbledore said quietly, "but I beg you, tell no one about this." The boys nodded.
"May we see her?" Fred asked.
"Only briefly. Come with me." Dumbledore turned and walked behind a curtain at the end of the infirmary.
"Hi," Fred said.
"Hey," George said.
Henrietta just looked up at them, sadly. "Hello. Are you the ones who sent Dumbledore?"
The twins nodded.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"I don't know what happened, and you don't have to tell us, but since we know more than some, if you ever need to talk…" George started quickly, but trailed off.
She nodded: "Thanks." She rolled onto her side. "I think I'm going to try to sleep."
Madam Pomfrey gave her a vial. "This is Dreamless Sleep Potion. It will help," she said, and she shooed the boys and Professor Dumbledore out of the Hospital Wing.
The three shared a quick look before Dumbledore bade the twins goodnight, striding away. The twins paused and looked at each other, a leaden feeling settling into their guts.
"We could have..." Fred started.
"If we'd told him sooner…" George continued.
The twins let the weight of their responsibility fall on them.
"It was an error," George said. "We couldn't know."
"Do we give the map to Dumbledore?" Fred asked. "Do we really want this?"
"I want to make the world a happier place," George answered. "There's two ways."
"Stopping bad things or make good," Fred finished. "Let's do better at stopping the bad."
"And better at making the good," George said with a nod. "I'll check on Henrietta tomorrow morning."