It was during the first week of October when Fred got the note. He had left his stuff alone for a few moments in the great hall and when he came back, a piece of parchment was on top of his books. Fred picked it up with a confused frown and read it silently.
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You will pay for your actions. Watch your back, Blood Traitor.
/
Fred disregarded the note, thinking of it as a lame prank. He shoved the note in his bag before hurrying off to Potions class. He got there just in time and sat next to George with a crooked smile. George rolled his eyes, smiling. The class went silent as Professor Snape walked in. He tapped on the chalkboard with his wand and instructions appeared.
"Begin." Snape said. The ingredients were already at the tables so the class began immediately.
Fred and George moved as one as they made their potion. The two were the best brewers in the class and year for a reason. They were flawless in their preparation and their potions were nearly perfect. Every once in a while, another student would find themselves watching in awe as the brothers brewed. A sudden splash caught everyone's attention. George pulled Fred away from the potion, recognizing the thrown object to be ginger root. When ginger root was added to a calming potion, the effects were disastrous.
"Get down!" Snape ordered, casting a quick spell to limit the explosion range. A second of silence passed before a sudden BOOM filled the room.
George, who had draped himself over Fred protectively, got the worst of the splash. His skin turned red and his clothes were smoking. Fred had gotten some of the ruined potion on his left arm and part of his neck, both of which having been exposed. Snape cast a vanishing spell of the puddles of the potion.
"Everyone who got hit with the potion, report to the Hospital Wing immediately. Whoever threw that better confess now." Snape said, his tone deadly and powerful.
Fred obeyed, helping George up. His brother was barely conscious as they hurried as fast as two injured students could to the Hospital Wing. Five others, two Slytherins and three Gryffindors, followed close behind.
A pair of eyes followed their movements from the shadow. He scowled at the failure of his plan. The twin was an obstacle. He'd have to try when the twin wasn't around.
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The twins had to stay in the wing for two days. Thankfully, it was a Friday when the potion exploded. During that time, Charlie, Bill, and Percy visited as many times as possible. Oliver and Lee stayed all day Saturday, playing Wizard Chess and other gams approved by Madame Pomfrey. Their two friends became friends with the three older Weasley's during that time.
"Who do you think did it?" Lee had asked, Saturday afternoon.
"We have no idea." The twins had said in unison. Fred had forgotten about the note by then.
Both nights in the hospital wing and a couple afterwards had been filled with nightmares for Fred. Pomfrey tsked when she saw the two sharing a bed by the morning, but let it be. She had two older siblings who were twins, so she understood the closeness of the two.
A couple weeks went by and everyone forgot about the incident.
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"Mum wants you two to send her an update sometime this week." Charlie said as he sat down at table in he Great Hall. It was the morning of Halloween. "Ron and Ginny miss you guys."
"Okay." Fred said, buttering a piece of toast. George filled a goblet with some pumpkin juice, offering some to Fred. After Fred nodded, George poured him some.
"How are your classes? Do you need any help with anything?" Percy asked. He had lifted his head out of his book for the first time that morning. George stopped drinking to answer, a slight frown at the hint of something in the juice.
"We need some help with the charms-" Realization dawned on George's face halfway through the sentence. The juice. His face turned as white as a parchment. "Fred, don't drink that!"
Too late.
"Hmm?" Fred frowned at him over his goblet, pulling away to speak. "Why?"
"Spit it out!" Panic raced through George's being. "It has almonds!"
"Wha-" Fred was interrupted with his own cough. All of his brothers stood. Fred felt his airway closing and struggled to breathe.
"We have to get him to Pomfrey!" Charlie said, his voice raised in fear. Bill, who sat on Fred's left, scooped up him up.
"One of you run ahead, tell her he's having a deadly allergic reaction." Bill ordered, already walking quickly to the doors. If he ran, it would be harder on Fred to breathe.
As Charlie and Percy ran ahead with George, Oliver and Lee following Bill and Fred, angry eyes glared at them. George was supposed to be in the dorms. Another failure. The boy got up, grabbing his things, and went to leave. On the way, he slipped a piece of parchment in with Fred's books.
In the Hospital wing, the Weasley brothers and their two friends watched on as Pomfrey coaxed a potion into Fred's mouth. Fred's face was already tinged blue and Pomfrey had to cast a spell to open his swelling throat. The potion took a minute to react. Fred took a deep breath, finally passing out from the stress and allergic reaction.
"How did this happen?" Pomfrey asked the boys.
"There was some almond in our pumpkin juice." George said, his face still white. Pomfrey frowned as she led George to a bed before the poor boy collapsed from the residual effect of panic.
"That's impossible, the house elves make sure to keep foods and drinks that cause allergic reactions from the students with the allergy." Pomfrey said. "Someone must have tampered with your pitcher."
The last part had been muttered and clearly not meant for them to hear. George heard anyway, and paled further. Someone was trying to kill Fred. First the potion, and now this. Fear and panic churned his stomach and he was glad he barely ate anything. Fred was in danger.
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Later that night, the Weasley boys, bar Fred, and Oliver and Lee were gathered in the common room. They were skipping the Halloween Feast, so they were able to grab seats next to the fire. It was George who had organized this. At the moment, he was staring into the fire with a frown.
"George?" Charlie, who was sitting next to him, touched his shoulder gently. The boy ripped himself from his thoughts.
"Someone is trying to kill Fred." George blurted, unable to hold it in any longer. The group exploded with questions.
"What?"
"Why?"
Bill put up his hand for silence and the others obeyed. George seemed to be in shock or something, not noticing the questions. Waving Charlie away to give George some room, Bill crouched in front of George and put his hands on the twin's shoulders.
"George, why do you think someone is trying to kill Fred?" Bill asked, softly.
"Someone threw ginger root in our potion a few weeks ago, and today someone tampered with our pitcher. Fred is the only one of us who is allergic to almonds!" George said, eyes filling with fear filled tears.
"While both of those are true, how would this person know about Fred's allergy?" Bill asked, confused. It was Oliver that answered this time.
"Three days ago, I asked Fred if he wanted one of my mum's homemade Almond and chocolate cookies. He said he was allergic to Almonds. We were in the Great Hall! Anyone could of heard!" Oliver said, catching on.
Bill was silent for a second, his mind racing. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, understanding. "We can't tell a teacher without any proof. So, here's what we are going to do. Fred is never to be alone, got it? At least one person is to be with him at all times. Just, don't tell him what's going on. We all know Fred, he won't take it well. He's already having enough nightmares."
Meanwhile, in the hospital wing, Fred was rereading a passage in his Charms book. He was trying to make sence of this alhormora spell. A folded slip of parchment fell out of his book. Frowning, Fred put his book down and opened the note.
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It's all your fault. Just because I've failed twice does not mean you are safe from me, Blood Traitor. Next time, I will get you. If you tell anyone, you'll regret it dearly.
/
Fred went pale, connecting the dots. When Pomfrey came over, he shoved the paper in his bag. She looked him over and felt his forehead.
"Are you feeling alright, my dear? You seem a bit pale." She said, concerned.
"I'm fine." He lied. "When do I get to leave?"
"Tomorrow morning. Get some rest, okay?" Pomfrey smiled at him before walking away. Fred glanced at his bag. Rest will not come easy.