The light flashed on. "Wake up!" a voice shouted, disrupting Fred's pleasant dreams. His blankets were suddenly ripped off of him causing him to cringe against the cool air. "Fred, George! Wake up!"
Fred knew that voice instantly. "Go 'way Ermione," Fred replied tiredly.
"Fred, get up! We have to go!"
"Granger, we're trying to sleep," George told her.
"We have to go now if we're going to make it to the Quidditch World Cup," she stated exasperatedly.
The twins groaned and tried to make a grab for their blankets. "Honestly. Get up, we'll be leaving soon," Hermione muttered as she turned back to the door. "Oh, and Fred, Alicia is here already. She's waiting downstairs with your Mum."
That prompted Fred out of bed.
They dressed quietly, too tired to speak. They filled their pockets with their products, convinced that the numerous people at the Quidditch World Cup would love their products. They were desperate to raise the money needed for their shop.
On the way out of their room, they nearly collided with Hermione, Harry, and Ron. "Here," Fred said, "put these in your pockets." He handed them the Ton-Tongue Toffees. While Hermione lectured them on listening to their mother and how their products were dangerous, Harry and Ron filled their pockets as instructed by Fred and George.
"Oh, come off it, Granger," George said. "You don't have to carry them for us if you don't want to." Hermione closed her mouth and said nothing more, but Fred had a hunch that this was not the last they would hear of it.
"Hello, Love," Fred greeted Alicia. She was sitting on the sofa, a tired expression on her face. She had flooed over that morning. He had told her to come the night before, but her parents were pessimistic about her staying at her boyfriend's house for the evening.
As Mr. Weasley explained about how they would have to walk to the portkey, Mrs. Weasley scrutinized her children, specifically Fred and George. Her eyes caught on the slight edge of a wrapper sticking out of George's pockets.
"George!"
"What?" he said innocently.
"What is that in your pocket?"
"Nothing!"
"Accio!" Out few several small, brightly colored objects from George's pockets. He tried his best to grab them, but missed. They fell immediately into Mrs. Weasley's hand. "We told you to destroy them! We told you to get rid of the lot. Empty your pockets, go on, both of you."
It looked, for a moment, like Fred and George were going to refuse their mother. Before they had the chance, she shouted, her wand pointing at them both, "Accio! Accio! Accio!"
"We spent six months developing those!" cried Fred in outrage.
"Oh a fine way to spend six months! No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s.!"
She sent her family off soon after that, a hard stare at the twins as they went out the door. After they started walking to the portkey, they turned to Harry and Ron. "Thanks, mates," Fred said, their arms outstretched for the candies.
Their father pretended he hadn't heard them.
The Diggorys were already standing near the Portkey, waiting for them. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"
Hermione, Ginny, and Alicia giggled amongst themselves as the boys greeted Cedric. A flash of annoyance spread through Fred suddenly. "What is it with girls and Cedric Diggory?" Fred whispered to George.
"You're just jealous because Alicia can't take her eyes off of him," George told him. Fred thought about slipping George a Ton-Tongue Toffee when he wasn't looking.
"All these all yours, Arthur?" Mr. Diggory asked.
"Oh no, only the redheads," Mr. Weasley laughed a little, gesturing to his children. "This is Alicia, friend of Fred's-"
"-Special friend more like," George interjected.
"This is Hermione, friend of Ron's," Mr. Weasley continued, ignoring his son's comment. "And this is Harry, another friend of-"
"Merlin's beard," said Mr. Diggory. "Harry? Harry Potter?"
"Er-yeah," said Harry.
"Ced's talked about you, of course. Told us all about playing against you last year... I said to him, Ced that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will...You beat Harry Potter!"
Fred, George, and Alicia scowled at the Diggorys, remembering the game from the previous year. It wasn't Harry's fault he fell off the broom. It was the dementors.
"...We'd better get ready..." Mr. Weasley suggested. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all. A finger will do-"
Fred couldn't say he cared much for traveling by Portkey. It felt like he was suddenly jerked forward, spinning through the air until they landed, unceremoniously on the ground. Annoyance surged through Fred when he realized that Cedric was still standing. Was there any part of him that wasn't perfect?
-----
Hermione found herself sitting between Alicia and Ron at lunch later that day. Fred and George were sitting on the other side of Alicia. Bill and Charlie sat across from her, neither of them speaking.
Their lunch was interrupted by a man Hermione had never seen before. "Arthur, old man," said the man. He seemed like a rather excitable fellow. "What a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming...and hardly a hiccough in arrangements...Not much for me to do!"
"Ah- yes," Mr. Weasley said, smiling at the man. "This is my son, Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred- no George- sorry, that's Fred. Alicia Spinnet, friend of Fred's. Hermione Granger, Ron's friend -Ron, Charlie, Bill- my daughter, Ginny- and Ron's other friend, Harry Potter." The man stared at Harry, his eyes immediately examining Harry's face in hopes of seeing the scar. "Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman. You know who he is, of course. It's thanks to him that we've got such good tickets."
"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" Bagman said eagerly.
"Oh...alright. A Galleon on Ireland to win."
"A Galleon?" Bagman looked disappointed. "Very well. Any other takers?"
"They're a bit young to be gambling. Molly wouldn't like-"
"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and three Knuts," said Fred, interrupting his father, "that Ireland will win, but Viktor Krum will catch the Snitch. Oh, and we'll even throw in a fake wand."
While Bagman glanced over the fake wand, marveling at how genuine it looked, Hermione turned to the twins. "I don't think you should take that bet," she told them.
"Granger," George answered, "it's our money."
"I'm telling you, it's a bad idea." Fred hesitated. Hermione was usually right about, well, everything. But they needed the money. They knew the Bulgarians didn't stand a chance against Ireland. Their best player was Krum. But Krum was fantastic, he was sure to catch the Snitch. It was a sure thing. And Fred really wanted to prove Hermione wrong.
In the end, they took the bet. Bagman quickly wrote their names down in his book, to remember the exact bet.
It was all going to be fine. What harm could one bet make?
-----
Fred grabbed Alicia's hand as they ran. Death Eaters had appeared from seemingly nowhere. Alicia looked absolutely terrified as she clung to him. Of course she was scared. They all were.
George had captured Ginny's hand as they ran towards the forest. He knew Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not far behind them. They just had to race through the forest to where Charlie and Bill were waiting on the other side.
Fred's heart pounded against his chest. He had thought the Death Eaters were all but extinct. They were just scary stories at night. Nothing real. Nothing to really fear. But they were real. They were the monsters in his closet chasing after him.
Fred glanced behind him, making sure Ron and his friends were close behind. He came to a sudden stop. "Where are they?" he shouted. George and Ginny looked around.
"They were right behind us!" George said.
"Fred," Alicia pulled on his arm. "We've got to keep moving!"
"We have to find Ron, Harry, and Hermione." His eyes widened a little at George. "You don't think-"
"Let's go back. We can try to find them."
"Are you mad!" Alicia exclaimed. "Didn't you listen to your father's instructions? We've got to keep moving! I'm sure they're fine."
But Fred didn't hear her. His gaze was fixed on something in the sky. One by one, George, Ginny, and Alicia looked up to where Fred was looking. The Dark Mark hung in the sky. Fred paled. His father. His brothers. Harry. Hermione. Could it be possible that one of them-
He didn't want to think of it. He had to find Ron, Harry, and Hermione. He dropped Alicia's hand and started moving back from where they came.
"We have to keep moving," Alicia said, grabbing Fred's wrist.
"She's right," Ginny interjected, a pained expression on her face. "We have to keep going, and meet up with Bill and Charlie. If we go after them...it'll just make everything worse."
Fred didn't like it. He wanted to turn back. If something happened to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, it would be all his fault. He was supposed to keep them safe.
Each step was its own form of torture. He kept imagining Ron dead. Or Harry dead. Or Hermione dead. He was certain he had failed them. Why hadn't he looked back sooner? He could have stopped, noticed when and why they had disappeared.
In the end, they made it back to where Charlie, Bill, and Percy had set up the tent. They sat inside, huddled together, clearly impacted by the events that had taken place. Charlie asked them where Ron, Harry, and Hermione were. No one spoke, all of them scared they had sent them to an early death.
It was nearly a half an hour later when Mr. Weasley returned and with him, Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Relief shot through Fred quickly looking at the fourth years. He was glad they were okay. All of them.
-----
The only positive outcome of the events after the Quidditch World Cup was Mrs. Weasley's reaction. The moment the Burrow came into view, Mrs. Weasley screeched, "Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!" She ran out to meet them. It was apparent she had been waiting anxiously for them. She was still wearing her bedroom shippers and a copy of the Daily Prophet was rolled up in her hands. "I was so worried!"
She threw her arms around Mr. Weasley first, then rounded on the twins, pulling them into a tight hug. "Ouch! Mum, you're strangling us-"
"I shouted at you before you left!" The woman began to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh Fred...George..."
Fred wasn't sure what to do. His mother had been annoyed with them all summer because they wanted to own a joke shop and they had been creating their own products. Now, she was sobbing into their shoulders, terrified they had died. He wondered for a brief moment if she had been watching the clock and if the hands had pointed to mortal peril.
"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," Mr. Weasley said, trying to soothe his wife.
Alicia made her way the fireplace almost immediately upon entering the house. Fred walked her there. "I'm sorry for snapping at you after the match-"
"It's okay," she reassured him. "I know you were worried." He gave her a small smile.
"I'll see you later then." She nodded, pressed a kiss to his cheek before flooing home.
A week later, Fred and George were hunched over a piece of parchment, their quills out, talking in hushed tones.
"What are you two up to?" Mrs. Weasley wanted to know.
"Homework," said Fred vaguely.
"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday."
"Yeah, we've left it a bit late."
"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you? You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"
"Now, Mum," Fred said, a pained expression on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"
The entire room burst into laughter. Even Mrs. Weasley. Fred found that was the perfect ending to a rather tense summer.