Order Only: Private message to Fred Weasley

[alt_terry]

Fred? You around?

You said I could talk to you or George. If I needed to.

Comments

[alt_fred]

Sure, no problem. Want me to get George, too? Do you want to add him to the Private message heading?

[alt_terry]

No. No, just you, I think.

I saw him at the gathering at 12 Grimmauld Place. But I didn't speak to him, because, well...he and Pansy seemed a little wrapped up in each other.

[alt_fred]

Yeah, he really has that new love glow, doesn't he? They both do.

'Course, he hasn't admitted it to me. But that doesn't stop me from teasing him.

And it doesn't mean he wouldn't have time for you. You know that.

[alt_terry]

I know. I just don't want to...to take his mind off--

oh, this is going to sound completely mad.

[alt_fred]

Hey, I'm one of the Weasley twins, remember? We specialise in mad.

If you want to confide in just me, that's fine. I can fill George in later, if you want.

Go ahead, spit it out, Professor.

[alt_terry]

Well, it's like....

When I started out, I had a mum, and a dad. And a little sister. Or at least I'm told I did.

And they're all dead. I don't even remember them.

Then I was raised by a master, and his sister.

They're both dead. And I killed him.

I befriended Dean Thomas, and that brought him to the Order's attention. And now he's dead.

Then the Longbottoms took me in. And they adopted me. They had Neville, who was my age, so it wasn't if they didn't already have a boy my age. But they adopted me. I was so happy about it, to have a family again--but then I heard some of the kids at Moddey Dhoo grumbling about it, when they didn't know I could hear. Like...why did Mr and Mrs Longbottom pick him? Why couldn't they adopt more of us, or all of us?

So I went to Sherwood. I knocked around with Dudley and Finbar and Tim, but then I got picked for a special mission, and I joined a Zulu company, and I felt like, well, this isn't a family, but at least I feel like I belong, like I've earned my way.

And every single one of them is dead now.

And now Neville? And my new mum and dad, and my sister and my little brother are just gutted by it. Mum's supposed to be running the Order, but she and dad -- I can hardly bear to be around them, to look them in the eye. What if they look at me, and think, how come he's alive, and our son, our brother, is worse than dead?

Do you think that someone can...can be a walking curse? Like a magnet of death? I feel as though I should never go back to Moddey Dhoo. I feel as if I should never see you again. Maybe it would be better if I just walked away from the whole Order and

Tell me--I don't know what.

Tell me I'm wrong.

Tell me that I don't mean doom to everyone I've ever learned to care about.

Maybe it was easier being just boot. When I was boot, I hurt, but no one noticed me enough to care about me.

[alt_fred]

Whoa.

[alt_fred]

Right.

All right, here's your answer:

You're wrong.

But what I mean is you're wrong in thinking that you're wrong. And it's not surprising, is it?

Terry, you live in the Protectorate. The Protectorate has been telling you that you're wrong every single day of your life, simply for being a muggleborn. And it's treated you like shite, so it's not surprising that you're listening to their rubbish a little more than usual when life is beating the stuffing out of you.

Sure you tell yourself it be easier to be boot, but we cared about you, didn't we? And Hermione cared.

[alt_terry]

Don't talk to me about Hermione.

[alt_fred]

All right, sore subject, huh. But Madam Pomfrey noticed, and she helped you, and the Headmistress saved you from Carrow for over a year. And we found you, and we cared, and the Sorting Hat told you that you were just as good as any other Ravenclaw in the castle. And pretty soon you had a whole host of friends who pulled together to find a way to help you when Carrow took you away. They buried a bookbag for you, and you taught yourself how to become an animagus, and you walked away from Amycus Sodding Carrow, and dug up that bookbag, and you lived, Terry. And we think that's pretty effing amazing.

You know you're not the only person to lose someone you've loved.

[alt_terry]

No, of course I know that. You've lost your brother and your dad...

Fuck it. Forget I said anything.

[alt_fred]

No, I'm not going to forget it. Because you're right that you've lost a lot of people. But that's because you're a muggleborn, and so you're the the very front vanguard of the people that Voldemort's hurt. But he proved it this weekend; he's determined to hurt EVERYBODY. All the people who have been kidding themselves that they're safe because of who they are, or what their bloodline is, or how much money they have--well, the scales have fallen from their eyes now, haven't they?

You're not a walking death magnet, Terry. It's not your fault; it's his fault because HE'S a walking death dealer. And yeah, you've borne more than your share. But you won't save the people you love by walking away from them all because it's clear now that nobody's safe.

And they aren't going to be until we win this war.

[alt_terry]

. . .

[alt_fred]

Look, I'm worried about you. Where are you?

[alt_terry]

I'm at Sherwood.

I've found a dark corner by myself. I'm about to turn into the Professor.

[alt_fred]

Wait!

Maybe the Professor is a good idea, but you shouldn't be alone.

Come here tonight, okay?

[alt_terry]

No, I don't think so.

[alt_fred]

All right. But find Finbar, all right? Or Dudley, or even John Turner. Just don't sleep alone, even as the Professor. All right? Promise?

[alt_terry]

I don't see why you care. You shouldn't care about me.

[alt_fred]

Promise, me, Terry. Or I swear, I'm coming out to Sherwood to find you and I'll drag you back to the shop by the scruff of your neck. And then I'll dress you up in the most embarrassing doggie costume I can find. And give you a flea bath.

[alt_terry]

All right. All right!

I can find Dudley. It probably won't take me long. He snores loud enough to keep half the camp awake.

I probably couldn't sleep tonight anyway.

[alt_fred]

Okay. I'm holding you to that. And I'll be checking in with you tomorrow.

I'm also going to be telling Madam Pomfrey. Or Sally-Anne. Your choice. Probably one of them will come check up on you.

[alt_terry]

You are such a nag.

[alt_fred]

I am the son of Molly Weasley.

So which'll it be? Madam Pomfrey or Sally-Anne?

[alt_terry]

. . .

Madam Pomfrey. I guess.

[alt_fred]

Fine. Go find Dudley. Try to get some sleep as the Professor. Try to eat something in the morning.

And I'll see if I can arrange for Madam Pomfrey to visit you tomorrow.