DISCLAIMER: I sure don't intend to make money offen' these here characters that done belong to JK Rowlings and Publishing companies and stuff, and no copyright infringement was intended cause I'm just having fun, you know?

CHAPTER SEVEN

UNEVEN

When they reached a spacious gap in the trees, Sean let out a whoop and turned cartwheels toward the quaint little cottage. Remus paused uncomfortably, wondering if it would be best to leave the boy now, slip quietly into the brush and find the Weasleys. Sean would have none of that; he stopped at the front door and turned back to Remus.

"Come on, Remus," he beckoned, "you've got to meet everyone. Maybe my Aunt Sue is visiting. You'd fancy her, I think!"

Remus shyly approached, noticing that the cottage was not so little, on the contrary, it was quiet big.

Sean charged through the door, hollering, "Mum! Dad! I'm home!"

The front room was deserted and empty. No reply came. Sean looked about, his face etched with worry.

"Mum?" he said tentatively, "Dad?"

For the next few minutes Remus stood helplessly in the parlor, listening to panicked footsteps and doors slamming open and shut.

"Mum! Dad! Caroline? Fred? Tyler? John! JOHN? WHERE- Remus, they're gone!" Sean was suddenly next to him, panting, tears streaming down his face. He threw himself on the sofa and raked his hair several times. "What am I going to do?"

"Couldn't they have stepped out for a moment?" asked Remus hopefully.

Sean shook his head, his face crumpling. "Tyler is- was- an Auror- recovering from real bad burns- they wouldn't have moved him... unless they are all-"

"No," Remus said firmly, "I'm sure that's not it at all. They probably went into hiding, Sean. They were probably scared that you got taken away."

"What did they expect me to do?"

"They probably didn't know you'd be back so soon, " Or sure you'd be back at all, Remus thought, but said, "Let's not worry, Sean, I'm sure they're fine-"

"Just like you were sure we weren't going to die!"

Remus couldn't help but smile. "Are we dead, Sean?"

Sean sniffled. "Well, it was real nice to meet you. I'll just wait here for my family to-"

"Oh no, you don't," said Remus, preparing to drag the boy up, "I can't leave you here. It's not safe."

"Oh yes? And where do you plan on taking me?"

This Remus had not had time to think about. Well, he'd had plenty of time to think on their hike through the woods, but managed to avoid it. Now Sean was staring skeptically at him, his arms crossed over his chest, which certainly didn't make it easier.

Percy Weasley, and possibly the entire Ministry, was being corrupted by Voldemort, Remus was sure of it. The evidence was there.. It wasn't a new trick; Voldemort had tried it many years ago, before he fell, but only with empty promises for a cure. And he'd had to do it personally, one by one, and always after the full moon, when the werewolf in question was ill and sore. This time, in the form of Mr. Weasley, he'd gotten the power to bring the werewolves to him.

Remus thought hard, and was able to produce a blurred image of a skinny, red-headed boy with glasses who always seemed to have his chest stuck out. A good, respectful boy, at least to Remus when he had been Professor Lupin. Death Eater material? Didn't seem the type, really. How could he be-?

Remus thought of a chubby, watery-eyed person he used to know, and his question was answered.

Sean was still staring at him. Remus turned away. He noticed for the first time a family portrait hanging over the mantel. Seven fair haired, gray-eyed people blinked and waved at him.

He didn't know where to turn, who to share this information with, except Percy's family. He knew the mother and father and Harry's friend Ron and the girl were all hiding- but there was another- two others, older boys. He knew from whispering and rumors that one of the identical twins had died tragically in some sort of botched experiment, and the other was raving mad. There was the other thin one who was very sickly- Remus had met him somewhere over the years... or maybe not. The wizarding community was so small when it came to gossip he couldn't be sure- so that left one more, Remus thought, wracking his brain. Chester- no, Charles- Charlie. He remember vaguely Ron telling his class about how Charlie worked with dragons. Remus mentally patted himself on the back for retaining so much of his memory.

Sean had given up on him for a response, and was weeping into the couch, his shoulders shaking.

"Do you like dragons?" Remus asked.

"I want my family back!" Sean sobbed dramatically, beating the arm of the sofa.

"You'll have them back, don't worry. But for now, we're going to Romania."

"Romania? I'm not going there. I refused to go anywhere! I just want my family back!"

Remus sighed. "Tantrums are very unbecoming of a young man your age, Sean. I understand that you're scared, but I think you need to try to be brave."

After a long moment Sean sat up grudgingly. "Why are we going there?"

"I'll tell you on the way."

"I don't like dragons."

"Then you don't have to see any," Remus paused and smiled, "Or, if you'd rather, I could drop you off at my place. My friend Sirius Black would be happy to keep you company."

"Sirius Black? "

"Only joking. Let's away, quickly now."

And so they raided the fridge, took showers, and fell into exhausted sleep.

* * * * * *

"Why are you so fidgety?" said Charlie, holding his brother's head still, "Don't you want me to do this?"

"Yes... yes, just do it quickly," said Fred, squeezing his eyes shut. "Before I change my mind."

"I would have thought you'd be eager to get rid of them," he said, poising the scissors, "Dreadful things."

Fred sniggered. "Funny, Charlie. Was that on purpose?"

"No pun intended," Charlie replied, chopping off the first lump of hair.

"I've just gotten so used to them," moaned Fred, wincing as an avalanche of dreadlocks fell to the floor.

"Ugh, Fred, I think you've got bugs!"

"I have not!"

"You do! Hold on, I'll take care of them-" Charlie handed Fred the scissors and whipped out his wand. "Here we go, Avada-"

"Charlie!" Fred shrieked, jumping up.

"Come on now," he laughed. Fred looked rather hilarious, all frightened with only half a head of dreadlocks. "Sit down, I'll only take a moment."

Fred backed away. "You can't curse all the bugs dead without killing me, too-"

"We all have to make sacrifices... come on, let your bugs take it like men."

Fred caught on and his face brightened. "Alright, then. But you'll have to get past me, first!"

"Draw your sword." Charlie replied with mock intensity.

The result was a very boyish, giggly, action packed sword fight all over the bathroom, in which Charlie's already aging wand received several new dents from the scissors, and Fred was nearly seared when the wand fussed in protest, spitting out red sparks. While he was distracted with this, Charlie seized his brother's weapon, and in one graceful movement Fred was back in his chair, they were both out of breath, and hair was once again falling to the floor.

Charlie hummed quietly. Now that the clouds outside had cleared, as did his head, and his flatmates had gone to a party at the other end of the building, he was feeling a little better. He really had missed Fred a lot. He missed his whole family. It had been a month since he'd talked to anyone in hiding, nearly two years since Fred had last wandered by, and long, long time since he'd seen Percy.

He was missing George, too, now that that mental block had come crashing down. He'd always felt closer to George, but had all but forgotten about him, after they'd thrown the last bit of dirt over his grave. George had often come to Charlie with girl problems, advice, or just to talk, where as Fred never did. Knowing Fred, Charlie supposed he figured that George's advice was all he needed.

George had always been the more sensible one, if there was such a thing in Weasley twin. In the few times the twins had reckoned they were stepping over the line with a joke, it was definitely George who brought it to Fred's attention. In the few times when they had fought and didn't just forget about it minutes later, George was the one who would bend and let Fred win. In their speech, when they were excited or upset, if they weren't talking at the same time, Fred always began the thought and George always finished it. Charlie missed that. It seemed that afterward Fred had trouble truly communicating, without George to complete his sentences.

But sometimes Fred would smile how George used to smile, or laugh how George used to laugh- little differences Charlie hadn't noticed when they were both alive- and it would sadden him.

It was like they'd both died, and suddenly there was this new person in the family they had to get used to.

The family had barely had time to grieve. It had been only days, he thought -though he couldn't be sure, everything had been such a haze- after George's death, when a messenger had come. One of Dumbledore's spies had said the Weasleys were on Voldemort's hit list, and who knows why? By then it seemed like a random lottery. Charlie had hid there with his family for many months, but never knew where the hiding place was. When Charlie informed Dumbledore that his cabin fever was growing unbearable, that he wanted to go back to the dragons and take his chances, he'd been told a very precise time to Apparate out. Here he'd appeared, and here he had been since.

Fred's hair was nearly done now, an uneven mess of short red fuzz. Charlie knew, as he prepared to shave Fred's head, that he'd better brace himself- it would be strange to see Fred again how he remembered him, only a little older. It had been rather creepy to look at him after George had died. He looked, well, wrong, without George next to him. Uneven.

At first, of course, Fred hadn't smiled and laughed at all. He hadn't cried or screamed either, just kept pleading for George to wake up, please wake up, for weeks and weeks, and eventually was just completely incoherent and didn't speak at all. The family feared that he would die too, but for months his mother force fed him and washed him, Charlie and Ron sat up with him at night to be sure he didn't do anything regrettable...

And one day he came down for breakfast, smiling- and Charlie had nearly fainted with surprise- he'd thought for a split second it was George, but it was Fred, suddenly bright-eyed and almost normal looking.

Fred had looked around at all of them, and with his mouth full of pancakes, asked, "Where's George? Did he go to Lee's without me?"

His mother and sister had burst into tears.

Percy had actually passed out- fell right off his chair and took the table cloth and most of the dishes with him. Mr. Weasley dove to the floor after him.

Fred paid no mind to Percy, or his mother or sister, or the fact that his breakfast was on the ground, but was for some reason looking to Charlie for an explanation.

"Fred..." he had choked, fighting back tears.

"Your brother is dead, son. You know that." Mr. Weasley had interjected weakly, helping his other son off the floor.

"Dead?" Fred had said innocently, "What do you mean?"

It was then that Charlie hid his face in his hands. He could hear Percy to his right, wondering what had just happened, asking for his glasses, even though they were still on his face.

His father tried to tell him, but Fred just looked at all of them with fixed eyes, a confused smile on his face. A month or so later he announced he was leaving. He had to find his twin brother.

Charlie was sure it would have been different for Fred if George had just gotten ill and passed away. He would have been able to cope with it better. But it had been so sudden. Fred had been right there, watching helplessly...

Charlie hoped that Percy knew no one thought he did it on purpose. He hoped Percy knew that no one hated him for what he'd done... but was that really the truth? It had been unintentional, they were at least was sure of that.

Charlie never thought he would miss Percy's constant clucking and bitching- but in the days after George's death, he'd gone gray in the face, was constantly watery-eyed, and always shaking his head slowly back and forth, as if living the memory over and over again. His body was constantly trembling. He's lost an astounding amount of weight and after meals Charlie would hear him in the bathroom, vomiting quietly. Sometimes he would scream in his sleep, but by day he never spoke above a choked whisper.

But Charlie could never bring himself to say anything to Percy. No one could. Deep in his heart, though he hated himself for it, he did resent Percy for George's death- he did blame him... but it only made him thankful that he had not been the constant butt of the twins' jokes, or who knows? he might have done the same thing- and it might have gone terribly wrong.

Percy was a ghost the day he told them all he was leaving. Fred had already been gone for awhile, and Charlie had recently announced he was leaving in the fall. His mother and father had only nodded to Percy and said he must do what he felt best, which must have hurt him beyond words. His parents had thrown the fits of all fits at the news of Charlie's and Fred's partings.

When Charlie thought of him, he felt only great sadness- could only bow his head and think of what a terrible shame it all was, and how he wished there was some way to take it all back. He wanted Percy to be a pompous ninny again. He wanted Voldemort dead, and his mother and father to be at the Burrow. He wanted Ron's children to attend Hogwarts and play Quidditch. He wanted Fred and George to be a pair again, and he wanted desperately to stop depending on drunken stupors to forget all these things.

"All done," said Charlie, brushing the hair off Fred's neck.

"Thanks." Fred felt his head. "I feel loads lighter, without all that dirt and hair."

"You'll be alright in my robe while I clean up, right?"

"Sure. I'm glad I stopped in," said Fred happily, "If George saw me like that I'm sure he would run the other way. I do want him to recognize me."

"Yeah," Charlie muttered, finding he's lost interest in sweeping.

"Who knows, maybe he decided to grow dreadlocks, too."

Charlie let the broom fall to the floor with a clatter. "Fred."

"Hmm?"

"If you don't believe George has died, then why do you hate Percy?"

For the first time Fred turned to look at him. He had that look on his face again, like he was a small child and Charlie was a big, mean, intimidating monster.

It was immediately an unfair question, considering Fred's mental state, that Charlie wished he hadn't asked.

Fred replied in a crazy, sing-song voice, "Percy scared him away. George must've been afraid, after Percy tried to murder him, so he ran away."

"Listen to yourself, Fred," Charlie whispered, "You can't believe what you're saying."

"He was so afraid that he didn't even tell me he was leaving, but I forgive him."

"George wouldn't want you to be like this. You're wasting your life, Freds. He wouldn't want you to be like this. "

"Don't tell me what my twin would want for me! George wouldn't want me to stop looking for him!" Fred's eyes were growing frantic.

"Fine, alright, fine. I'm sorry. But Percy- he didn't mean- he just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine-"

"It wasn't funny."

"No," said Charlie, shaking his head, "it sure wasn't. Nor were most of the pranks you pulled on him."

"Is that suppose to make it okay?"

"Is it suppose to make what okay?"

"THE FACT THAT GEORGE IS DEAD! There, I said it! Does that make you happy?" Fred wailed. "We never went that far- we never came close to hurting Percy-"

"I think George would want you to forgive Percy." Charlie said gently.

"It can't be true, Charlie," Fred was kneading up and down his brother's arms, as if he were desperate to hold on to something, "He can't be dead. I don't know why he'd avoid me for seven long years, but he couldn't have died. It's our twenty-five birthday, Charlie. You know what we're suppose to do today? We were going to go see that silly Muggle magician, David something-or-another, and we were going to mess with his show. Take it over. We picked now because we figured Percy would be Minister by now and we wouldn't get thrown in jail for it- that's stupid, as if Perce would really do anything to keep us out of prison- I just want to see George. I want to talk to him so bad, I have so many things to tell him. I wanna tell him about this Muggle girl I met in Amsterdam... you wouldn't believe it, Charlie. Muggle girls give the best knob shinings- it's just unbelievable, it's like magic..."

Fred laughed pitifully, his eyes wild and unfocused, and let go of Charlie.

He buried his face in his knees and sobbed.

Charlie suddenly wished he had a strong drink. He left Fred to cry, and went through his bedroom and into the kitchen, tripping over the broom on his way out. His head was in the icebox when the door opened and Ian and Scott fell in, laughing loudly.

"Great party down there, Chaz," Scott told him, "You really should have a look."

"Your brother's certainly enjoying it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Charlie said, pulling out a drink and closing the icebox door.

"He's not bad, really," said Ian.

"Yeah, when he's not all stinky," jeered Scott.

"Much more fun than you lately... who's that crying?"

"Fred, you pair of thick drunken idiots." Charlie unscrewed the bottle.

Ian and Scott looked queerly at each other.

"Merlin's Beard, are we drunk," said Ian.

"Fred your brother?" asked Scott, gesturing at the bathroom.

"Yes, of course Fred my brother- who do you think, Fred my girlfriend?"

Ian's eyes grew very wide. "What's he crying about?"

"His twin brother died seven years ago, today, prat."

Scott and Ian stared at him, their mouths flopped open.

"I've told you all about my family," Charlie continued, "Remember when my brother George died? I was gone for a year?"

They didn't respond, frozen.

"Hello? What's wrong?"

Ian's eyes floated aimlessly around the room.

Scott took a healthy swig of his beer. "Well, Chuck, it's like this-"

"Does Fred live here?" came a voice from the front door.

Charlie's drink shattered on the kitchen floor.

I know, I know, I know... I'm sorry... I can't help it. Well, I can... but anyway the next chapter will out tomorrow, hopefully, and please review. As if I have to ask- everyone has been really nice about reviewing- thanks guys!