Title: Beware of Potions

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6th year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.

Chapter Four

'Well, that was different,' Fred thought as he pulled himself up onto a branch where he could rest for a minute. He figured this was as good a spot as any to pause in his escape from the Burrow, or rather, from his traitorous thoughts. He settled into a somewhat comfortable position and used his sleeve to wipe away a bit of blood from his face. He wasn't sure when he'd started bleeding, but he figured it was around the time that George's punch to the face had sent Fred careening down the stairs. He clenched his fists bitterly as he recollected the fight between him and his twin.

Despite what he had said to George, Fred did worry that the previous day's potion was affecting him. The littlest things around him that never seemed to irritate him, now grated on his nerves to a point where he felt he would explode. Everything seemed louder and closer than it needed to be and, while he'd never felt claustrophobic in any way, he imagined that it must feel something like this.

What he couldn't understand was how easily he let it control what he said and did. Never would he have picked a fight with George under normal circumstances. He would have moved with his twin throughout the lecture from their mother and the two would have joked about it later – though not when their mum could hear them. They weren't stupid, nor were they suicidal.

He shifted on his branch, wrapping his arms around himself as a particularly cool breeze swept by. The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt about what he'd said to George. Part of him wondered if he hadn't been right on at least a few levels about what he'd said. A spark of anger lit in his mind as he pondered George's idea – to blame all of this insanity (or was it?) on Fred and that potion. A shred of doubt lingered in Fred's thoughts as to whether all of this anger that he'd felt in the evening wasn't warranted, or at least had some basis in reason.

Before he could dwell on it much further, Fred heard crunching footsteps making their way through the trees. By the light of the wand that was held below him, Fred could see his father's face. The spark of anger rose into a small, flickering flame as he thought, 'Can't they just let me be for a bit?'

Fred looked away as the wand's light landed on him. After a moment, he heard his father ask, "Fred? Are you alright son?"

Fred closed his eyes and tried desperately to not let his anger escape him. At this point, he wasn't sure if he was actually angry or not, but he knew for certain that he didn't want to talk to his father. Or did he? 'Damn,' he thought with frustration, 'I can't tell if what I'm thinking is really me or if it's that potion…'

His dad's voice interrupted his train of thought by asking, "Will you come down so we can talk?" His voice sounded a bit strained, as if he was worried or nervous. Fred shook his head to say "no" in response to the question, drawing a soft sigh from his dad.

Not to be deterred easily, his father said, "Fred, I need to know that you're okay. Can you–"

"I'm fine…" Fred whispered, not trusting his voice to go much louder. He wanted so much to be left alone right now, even though the idea itself seemed alien to him. "I just want… to be alone for a bit. I'll go back in a while…" he trailed off, opening his eyes to look around at his surroundings. He desperately hoped that his father would let him be, or else he wasn't sure what he'd do. He felt like he was nervous, anxious, and excited all at the same time, and that those tingling feelings were fueling his irritation to a higher level than before.

As his nerves tingled, Fred thought over and over, 'Leave me be, leave me be, leave me be…'

"Okay. Do you have your wand?" Fred sighed in relief at that question and quickly nodded back. "If you need me, send a signal and I'll come out right away, okay?" Fred felt himself nod again, still not looking down through the leaves to where his father was standing.

The older man seemed to hesitate before turning away, and Fred had a brief urge to call for him to stay. He refrained though, and felt his anger grow even more at both his father for leaving him out here and himself for allowing this to happen. He shook his head rather suddenly, hoping to clear his head, but it didn't work.

He stayed out amongst the trees for a couple hours before the cold made him start to shiver. Fred finally felt somewhat calm again and hoped that however this potion was affecting him, that it would stop soon. He silently pledged to discuss it with George the next day, providing that his twin wouldn't toss him down the stairs again. With those thoughts in mind, he made his way back to the Burrow.

Instead of heading back up to his room, he fell onto the downstairs couch and quickly fell asleep.


Molly noticed that, at some point in the night, Fred had decided to come back up to the Burrow. His choice not to go to his and George's room was obvious to see when she walked down the steps earlier than usual to prepare breakfast. She started at finding him curled up on the couch but then moved to cover him with a blue and gray quilt that was lying over the top of the couch. Sure enough, he pulled the quilt closer for extra warmth.

Molly moved to the kitchen to prepare tea and a light breakfast that didn't involve nearly the amount that she was used to. Both she and Arthur had stayed up late the night before to discuss the twins' behavior and she found herself wishing that she too had decided to sleep in like everyone else.

While she was preparing the toast and eggs, George was beginning to stir. He opened his eyes and then shut them for two reasons: it was unnaturally bright in his and Fred's room and his face hurt. Shielding his eyes from the light, he peered through his fingers at the window that was allowing brilliant rays of sunshine to stream in. He glared at it as best he could and then lay back down.

He slowly recalled the details of the previous night and groaned when he realized that Fred had not returned to their room. George stood up and sleepily found some clothes to wear while hoping that today would go much more smoothly than the previous ones.

Almost as if in sync, George, along with Percy, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry came down the stairs, following the scents of "food, delicious food" as Ron had called it. All of the children noticed Fred getting up from one of the couches but each of them chose wisely not to point the fact out. He came over to the table, not seeming to notice the curious looks he was receiving, and sat right next to George as he always had.

George had just opened his mouth to say something to Fred, although he wasn't sure what he wanted to say, when their mother walked up to the table with plates of breakfast items trailing after her. They landed on the table and no sooner had they found a place than half the food seemed to disappear to Ron's plate.

"Goodness Ronald," Hermione scolded as he began devouring his breakfast, "do you even taste the flavor of the food when you eat so much so quickly?"

"And have you ever considered all the starving kids in Africa?" Arthur commented while stabbing a sausage with his fork. Everyone looked at him with questioning glances, having never heard anything mentioned about kids starving in Africa before.

"Arthur, what on earth…" Molly started to say, almost amazed that she still hadn't completely figured out where he came up with the things he said or did after the number of years they had been married.

"I heard a muggle woman say that to her child!" Arthur explained, excited to share the information. "I asked her what she meant and she said that children in Africa don't have enough food, so we should not be wasteful of what we have and eat what we are given!"

Everyone else, especially Hermione, seemed to nod or at least think about what he said for a moment before going back to eating. After a few bites had been managed though, Fred set his fork down and looked at his father with a thoughtful look on his face.

"That doesn't make any sense, Dad," Fred said. "If there are kids starving in Africa, then we should save the extra food we don't need and send it to them, not eat it just so it doesn't go to waste."

Everyone at the table stopped what they were doing, some holding a forkful of food just an inch from their mouths, and stared at him. George was looking sideways at him trying to figure out if he'd hit his head during their brief brawl or if he was trying to be humorous.

Fred seemed to realize that they were waiting to see what else he would say and turned his eyes to his plate. George thought he almost detected a bit of nervousness or apprehension in his twin's expression. Nevertheless, Fred stabbed a piece of toast covered in egg and, before eating it, said, "We should send the extra food to Africa. Or, if anything, send Ron – there should be enough food in him to feed the whole continent."

George and Fred shared the briefest of looks before turning back to their plates as if nothing had been said. The looks they shared often conveyed more of what they were thinking than anything they could have said, and Fred's look had spoken volumes about how nervous he felt. George almost didn't know how to react to it, but decided that they best route would be to play along for the time being.

During the twins' silent conversation, Ginny and Harry were fighting back a laugh while Ron sputtered indignantly at the insult. Even Hermione and the Weasley parents were trying to hide smiles. Percy was the only one at the table that truly didn't seem to get it.

"That wouldn't work at all," Percy said, pointing his fork at Fred in an effort to treat the comment like an actual, serious suggestion. "Ron can't give them the food that he has already eaten – it would be no good to them."

At this point, George broke in by saying with an equally serious voice, "Besides mate, if we sent Ron, he'd eat all of their food too, and then they'd starve even more."

Fred raised his eyes to the ceiling in mock contemplation and then held his fork up similar to how Percy had held his and said, "I do believe you're right. We could send Mum. She'd cook for them and fatten them all up in a day's time."

"She would, yes," George agreed, smiling. "But then who would feed us?"

"Right, of course. We would starve without Mum!" Fred exclaimed.

"And then you know what would happen-"George commented, nodding his head.

"That phrase of Dad's would have to change-"

"It'd be 'There are starving kids at the Burrow, so eat your food!'"

"And we'd still be stuck with Ron, so any food we got would be devoured before us savagely!" Fred finished, looking thoroughly dismayed at the prospects before them.

Ron, meanwhile, had decided to ignore the two of them and continued eating his breakfast, taking seconds and thirds of some of the dishes. Everyone else was smiling over at the twins, happy to see that they were getting along again and up to their usual morning mischief of making Ron mad.

As they were finishing up breakfast, Arthur asked Molly what the plans were for the day. Everyone looked towards her and put on their sweetest expressions, hoping that they wouldn't get selected for an undesirable chore.

"The garden needs to be de-gnomed, the windows need to be cleaned, the floors swept, and the kitchen pantry reorganized. Volunteers?" Molly asked, knowing that she would have to assign almost all of it to unwilling children.

"We'll take the kitchen, Mum," Fred voiced while finishing off the last of his eggs. George looked at him with wide eyes and wondered once again what had been knocked loose in his twin's brain the night before. Nevertheless, she looked at them and smiled pleasantly. Percy volunteered to clean the windows while Hermione and Ginny chose to sweep the floors and Harry and Ron were stuck with the gnomes.

"Right then," she said authoritatively, "get to work and if you're good, you can use the backyard for quidditch afterwards." Everyone's faces brightened at this possibility as they stood up and took their plates to the kitchen.

"I've got laundry to do amidst other things," their mother said. "Do either of you need anything before working on the pantry?" She asked while eyeing them both to see if they truly had moved past whatever happened last night.

"No, Mum, we're great," George said, smiling at her along with Fred. Neither of their smiles looked quite right with the bruises darkening their eyes and cheeks, but no matter. Molly figured that if they had come to some sort of resolution, then she would not interfere with it.

Their mum turned to head upstairs and George took a moment to think about Fred's abrupt shift in attitude from the night before. He was trying to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened and, while George longed for that to be true, he knew that they needed to discuss the fight in order to avoid another one.

George turned around to see his twin already moving things around in the pantry and setting ingredients and food containers onto the floor and countertops. Deciding that now was as good a time as any, he said, "Fred, we need to talk about what happened last night. We've never-"

"Nothing happened," Fred interrupted. He didn't even know what made him say it. He'd planned to discuss it with George, but as the morning dragged on, he felt that same tingling irritation and anger attack his nerves. It was almost as if whatever was affecting him was stronger when he was around his family, for he had felt perfectly calm while walking back to the Burrow a few hours before sunrise. Deciding that it might be the best route, Fred chose to try and let what happened yesterday go and hopefully it would put an end to this nagging feeling.

George stared at his twin for a moment and exclaimed, "Nothing happened? If nothing happened, then how on earth do you explain that bruise on your face? Or the ones on mine?"

'Bloody hell!' Fred thought, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from him in anger, "Oh, you mean when you pushed me down the stairs?" Fred turned towards the pantry and thought, 'Damnit! Why did I say that?'

Closing his eyes, George replied, "That was an accident, and that wasn't what I was talking about. I was talking about how you went crazy and threw a punch at me in the middle of cleaning our room out!" His voice was rising to match his frustration and he tried to quiet it so that their mum and siblings wouldn't hear. "I know this is an effect from that potion and-"

"You're right." Fred stated, even though it was hard to actually get the words out, and he couldn't figure out why. "Though I don't think you should go blaming that potion entirely. We are capable of disagreeing, whether you like it or not."

"Whether I like it or- what are you, trying to disagree just to prove a point?" George asked, remembering now what had got him so frustrated as to participate in a fight with his twin.

Fred mentally cringed and wanted to apologize, but what came out was cutting remark. "You know what? If it's the potion's work, then I'm glad I took it, because now I don't have to act just like you." He picked up a can of something that probably shouldn't still be good and bit his lip. A look at George showed how much his words hurt his twin, and he tried to amend them, "That's – that's not what I meant…"

"Save it," George snapped, turning to the pantry and beginning to remove cans without even looking at them.

"Giving up so soon?" Fred asked sarcastically and then swore, causing George to look at him with questioning expression. Fred didn't even bother trying to take it back and chose to remain quiet, letting himself get distracted by a can of something that might have been beans in a past life.

The two worked in silence, an unusual thing for them, as they made separate groups of "good" food and "off" food. After a few minutes, Fred looked over at George and stated, being sure to say his words carefully, "I'm going to go ask Mum where she wants the food that's gone off." A seemingly apathetic shrug from George drove that spark even higher and Fred added sarcastically, despite his intention not to, "Unless you think some potion might lead me astray in the moments that I'm out of your sight."

George slammed a can down onto the floor irately, but refused to further acknowledge his twin's words. Fred didn't wait for a response and headed out of the kitchen. George shook his head and thought of how he would deal with the problems being caused by that potion Fred had drunk. It seemed like Fred did recognize that his strange behavior was different or unusual, and that he was being controlled somehow by a potion. The part that had George worrying, however, was the potential for truth in some of Fred's comments. What if it wasn't just the potion talking?

Just as he decided to speak to their mum after they had finished, he grabbed a couple of cans from the pantry and, by the amount of rust, was able to determine that they were probably no longer edible to anyone except Ron.

He leaned into the pantry to grab another can when he heard his mum and Fred come into the kitchen. George listened to their mum's instructions as he continued to pile up cans.

"The food that's gone off can be left just outside the door where your father can deal with it," Molly directed them while pointing a finger towards the door she was speaking of. She regarded them for a moment before adding, "I'm glad you two have worked through whatever happened last night–"

A derisive snort of laughter sounded through the kitchen, and George and his mum looked at Fred, who was glaring back over at George. Fred opened his mouth to say something, but George cut him off before he could start.

"Mum, can I talk to you in the living room?" He asked, already standing up.

Fred knew what George would talk to her about and a small part of him really wanted her to be able to fix this, but a larger, outside force seemed to push him to argue against it. It was almost like a virus infecting his thoughts, with the cure just out of his reach. Even as he felt the angry words pile up on his tongue, he bit down on them to stop them from escaping.

"Whatever you need to say, you can say right here, George," their mum replied.

'No! Go in the other room before I–" Fred thought, but interrupted himself by commenting, "Yeah, George, tell her about how you just can't stand me anymore and that the reason just must be–"

"Shut up!" George snapped, before speaking to their mum, "That potion's affecting him and we need–"

"Oh, I'm affected, poor me. Whatever will you lot do now?" Fred commented, rolling his eyes, though this time the words were all his own. He'd meant for them to come out as a joke, although the effect was lost on his twin and mother.

" – We need to find a way to reverse it," George finished his statement that Fred had tried to cut off. Their mum held up a hand just as Fred turned to say something else.

"That's it! I will contact the Headmaster and have both of you checked out," she stated, and her expression asked for no comments on the matter. "Now, you," she said, pointing to George, "will take the cans to the door, and you," she said, now looking at Fred, "will continue sorting the pantry out.

Both Fred and George started to protest her idea, as well as the chore itself, before they were interrupted.

Molly held up her hands to silence them, and the two looked down, both recognizing that this was not the time to test her. "I don't want to hear anymore about this. I'm going to owl Headmaster Dumbledore and see if he has any ideas and then both of you will be tested to see if anything is affecting you."

"Mum, I don't need to be tested. He's the one that drank the potion and so he's the only one that should be looked at!" George argued, waving a hand at his twin.

"Young man, don't argue with me," his mum warned. George looked to the floor as she said, "Right now, you're not doing a great job at persuading me that you weren't the one to drink it. Therefore, I will have both of you looked at. Now," she said, giving them another expectant look, "you two still have to reorganize that pantry and I expect it to be done by lunch."

With that, she marched out of the room to write a letter concerning her twin sons. The twins listened to her leave before Fred turned to the pantry and began removing more items.

George shook his head but wisely chose to remain silent. He knew that anything he said would provoke a reaction from Fred (or was it the potion?) which would result in bringing their increasingly frustrated mother back into the room. He sighed and grabbed a load of cans to take to the door while Fred continued to clear out the pantry.

Fred finished moments before George did and went over to the dining table as their mother walked in to prepare lunch. Clenching his fists at the fact that Fred didn't wait for him, George finished quickly and asked his mum if she needed anything and, being turned down, joined Fred at the table as Ron and Harry also sat down. Both of the twins studiously ignored each other in favor of listening to Ron complain.

"You'd think that with all the magic out there, they would invent a fence for gardens that would repel gnomes," Ron grumbled.

"Why would they do that?" Harry asked, smiling. "I think it's a fun game!"

"You would think that's fun…" Ron responded and then mumbled something about traitors that liked work.

Molly set out sandwiches and everyone devoured at least two of them. Near the end of the meal, Arthur clapped his hands together and said, "Well, we've got an old snitch, quaffle, and a bludger – who wants to play?"

Everyone cheered in anticipation except Percy and Hermione. The teams were quickly divided with Harry, Ron, and Fred on one team and Ginny, George, and Hermione, who hadn't escaped quickly enough, on the other team. Harry and Ginny acted as both seekers and chasers while Ron and Hermione acted as keepers. The twins acted as the beaters for their respective teams.

Percy sat on the grass with a book and, though his job was supposed to be to keep score, he was obviously more involved in whatever boring text he was reading. Everything moved very quickly above him as the quaffle was passed to and fro and the snitch sped wildly about.

Fred and George were keeping the bludger away from their team members until Fred suddenly kicked it back at George instead of Ginny, who he probably should have aimed it at. It didn't even occur to Fred that George might think he'd done it intentionally. He didn't have much time to stop the bludger, however, or warn his twin. The bludger rushed past George, missing his head by a few inches. The other players and the supposed referee didn't notice the move.

"Oi!" George shouted, catching Fred's attention. The bludger swung back towards him and he batted it out swiftly to Fred, who swerved sharply to avoid it.

He almost succeeded – the bludger clipped Fred's leg and turned just enough that it was now heading straight for Hermione. George shouted out a warning but it didn't stop the bludger from connecting with Hermione's shoulder, causing her to scream in pain and make her way rather quickly towards the ground. In less than a second, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were helping her down to the ground where Percy had called for their parents to come out to.

George landed and darted over to Hermione. After seeing that she wasn't seriously injured and would likely be alright in a few hours, he spun around to meet his twin.

"This was your fault." George accused, pointing a finger in a pose that was reminiscent of their mother.

"It's not my fault that you're a bloody lousy shot," Fred replied, glaring at him. "Besides, I didn't mean to hit it towards you–"

"You were trying to hit me and you missed. Don't lie about it," George countered.

"Oh, I'm lying about aiming to hit someone? If I remember correctly, dear brother, it was you that hit the bludger that hurt Hermione, not me. But go ahead and give me another chance; I'm sure I'll do better on round two and nail you in the face," Fred said, sneering at George, feeling that the anger he felt now was perfectly warranted. The spark was now a raging flame in his mind.

"Yeah, well, we'll just see about that," George growled and started to stalk back towards the house. The two angry teens continued to bicker back and forth, drawing stares and questions from their family, to which they were oblivious.

"What, you think you could beat me?" Fred scoffed and walked a bit quicker towards the house. He wasn't sure what he would do, only aware that he was growing more and more furious by the second. George was following his twin and heard his father calling for them to stop but he ignored it – the adrenaline in him fueled his anger more than he thought it could.

"I don't think it, I know it," George replied challengingly. "It's a shame we're underage, or I'd prove it to you right now."

"Oh, is that all that's stopping you?" Fred turned abruptly and stared into his twin's face. "Why don't we try someplace a bit more fitting then?" With a sneaky looking smile he turned again to head towards the house.

George's face took on a puzzled expression as his twin continued into the Burrow. Behind him, he heard his mum calling out that they had better stop and get back there right now, but George felt too angry to heed his mother's words. Instead, he took off after Fred and followed him straight to the den, pausing a few feet away when Fred stopped in front of the fireplace.

"I'll be you can't catch me," Fred smirked again – George was really hating that expression and his wand arm twitched with the need to get that look off his twin's face. He vaguely wondering if the potion was somehow affecting him as well, but it couldn't be. Before he could get closer, Fred grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace.

"Fred, what are you–" but his question was cut off by Fred's cry of "The Leaky Cauldron!"

George swore and then reached up and grabbed a handful of floo powder as well. Just as he jumped into the fireplace, his mum ran in with a flabbergasted look on her face.

"Where on earth? George Weasley you put that powder back and get out of the fireplace NOW!" She screeched when she saw what George was about to do.

The powder still clenched in his hand, George threw an apologetic look at his mother and muttered, "Sorry mum," before following his brother through the floo network. The last thing he saw was his mum's furious face and steady wand pointing at the fireplace before a series of fireplaces flew by him.

They really should have known better than to leave the floo powder in reach like that…

Okay, so I'm a bit worried that I've completely ruined this chapter. Let me know if the whole omniscient POV thing was hard to follow – I thought I'd try it out, since I didn't want to rewrite each chapter from both the twin's POV's.

In any event, thanks to the reviewer who encouraged me to put in Fred's POV – I hadn't planned on it, but I'm glad I did and I hope it explains more. PLEASE let me know if it needs more work.

To everyone else – thanks for reading and please leave me a note on what you think of it. I hope you're all having a great summer!