(Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows—Chapter 10: Kreacher's Tale)
Verity found herself at the drawing room door of Malfoy Manor, the Dark Mark slashed into its polished surface. From the other side came terrible, heart-wrenching screams and a sickeningly familiar voice shouting, "Crucio!" She pushed open the door. Fred lay crumpled in the dark, bruised and bleeding. Fire flared and threw the room into sharp relief. She realized it was not only physical pain in his damaged face, because it was no Death Eater torturing him.
It was George. His eyes were blank and unseeing, but his laugh twisted his face into an alien sneer. He had to be under the Imperius Curse, she told herself; he must be. Green light filled the room with a crack, and both the twins fell, dead. Verity cried out. The curse came from the wand in her hand.
She woke with a scream.
Pounding on the door. "Verity? Verity! Are you alright?" She stumbled out of bed and unlocked the door. Fred stood there in his pajamas with his wand lit, whole and unhurt, but frantic with worry. The moment the door opened his gaze flew around the room, searching for Death Eaters, dementors, a boggart.
"Nightmares again?" he said. She nodded and wiped her tears. "The same one?" She shook her head. Carefully, he led her back to bed and lit the candles on the table before sitting next to her.
"Oh, Freddie," she said with an enormous sob, "it was George this time, and you were screaming and he laughed, and then—it was me!" Her breaths came in gasps. "When will this awful war end?" she asked, drawing her knees to her chest.
"Soon," he said. "We'll be done before you know it; you've got to stick it out."
She broke down again and cried harder, her shoulders shaking. "I can't," she sobbed, her face buried in her hands. "I'm so afraid. Every night—I can't bear it—and it's not just nights! All the time, I don't know if I'll ever see you again—or I'll hear something awful—I see it in the paper, Imperiused and dead and missing. It could be you next, or George...I wish you weren't in that awful Order."
"It's hard," said Fred, "but we knew the risk when we joined. It's not like we've never been in tight spots before."
"This isn't Hogwarts!" Verity said. "Filch won't...give you detention if you're caught!"
"Really? That old codger must have had a change of heart. Last we saw him he was set to flog us to pieces for a little swamp—"
"It's not funny!" Her head sank to her knees.
"I'm sorry, love," he said, putting his arms around her. "Bad timing?"
"I'm so scared."
"You're not the only one. How do you think I feel, with you back at Hogwarts? Dumbledore gone, and Snape and the Carrows in charge..."
Verity sat up, her face tear-streaked. "I couldn't make it on the run. Besides, Snape knows I'm pureblood. I take lessons with him, he won't forget I should be there. Maybe I'll find things out for you—I can spy!" she finished desperately.
"You're still taking lessons with Snape?" Fred said. "Alone with the fellow who killed Dumbledore?"
"And cut off George's ear."
"I remember!"
Verity sighed and rested her head on Fred's shoulder. "It was a better plan when he was just head of Slytherin."
"Right." He decided to move the conversation away from such depressing topics. "Remember when we met?" Verity gave a small smile at the memory. "And spent the whole Yule Ball roasting Malfoy."
"I did like that," she said softly. "But they closed the ball too soon. We could have gone on for hours." A yawn interrupted her giggle.
"Here," Fred said. "Lie down. Stupid of me, keeping you up. It's two; you need your rest."
She settled back into bed complacently enough, but as Fred turned to leave, she caught at his hand. "Freddie. I'm scared to go back to sleep."
He pulled a bottle of deep purple-blue liquid from his pocket. "Sleeping draught," he said. "No dreams, no nothing, just rest."
"Are you sure?" she asked as he poured half the bottle's contents into a cup on the side table.
He nodded. "Just this once." Verity drained the cup in one drink, and her mind clouded. She struggled to keep her eyes open as Fred sat beside her, stroking her hair gently. "Good night," she heard him whisper as she drifted.
Fred stayed at Verity's bedside a few minutes after she fell asleep, then he extinguished the candles and kissed her forehead. He clutched the sleeping draught in his pocket as he locked her door. She wasn't the only one having nightmares.