Weasley Twins One-Shots

Words are Knives that often leave Scars

I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. That all belongs to JK Rowling and her tweets

I must not conspire against the Ministry...
I must not conspire against the Ministry...

The Great Hall was completely silent, save for the sound of scratching quills and the occasional grunt or groan of pain. Umbridge was sat in the throne-like chair that usually occupied Dumbledore at mealtimes, smiling sickly sweetly down at them all. The entire DA was in detention, and were writing lines.

I must not conspire against the Ministry...
I must not conspire against the Ministry...

George's left hand was searing with pain. The words cut deeply into his hand, crimson blood dripping down his arm, making a small pool of it on the table and dropping on his parchment. Fred was sat in front of him, as Umbridge made them all sit in alphabetical order. Ron, however, was at the other end of the room, for whatever reason.

I must not conspire against the Ministry...
I must not conspire against the Ministry...

Sniff. George looked up. Only one person had started crying so far, and that had been a Ravenclaw Fourth Year girl. She was sat somewhere near Ron, though. The sniffle had come from in front of him. He couldn't tell who it was, yet, so he put his head back down, not wanting Umbridge to see him looking up.

I must not conspire against the Ministry...
I must not conspire against the Ministry...

George was certain nothing had ever hurt so much in his entire life. His hand burned, stung and throbbed all at once. Sniff. That time, he knew who it was, because George felt a pang in his stomach. The sniff had come from directly in front of him, it had come from the red head that was identical to his own. George glanced up at Umbridge. She was looking at the opposite end of the classroom to where George was sat, so he looked up at the back of Fred's head.

He was shaking slightly. George saw that Fred's hand was bleeding a lot more than his was, and evidently hurt more. George tried to look round at Fred's face, but Umbridge's eyes were sweeping the Hall, making their way to where he was sat. George quickly looked back down at his paper.

I must not conspire against the Ministry...
I must not conspire against the Ministry...

"Freddie." George whispered. It was extremely quiet, he himself barely even heard it, but Fred tensed slightly. "You're gonna be ok." George whispered at the same level. He saw a single tear drop on Fred's paper. "Georgie, I can't." Fred whispered. George barely heard him, he had to strain to do so. "Georgie, it hurts." Umbridge looked up from her book that she was reading, right at George. George glowered at her, but she only smiled. George saw her eyes shift to Fred, and her smile broadened. "You cow!" He surprised himself with that. Everyone looked up and over at George. Most people jumped, including Fred. He turned around to face George, hiding his left hand from view. "Congratulations, Mr Weasley. You've just earned everyone in here an extra hour of detention." Nobody glared at George, they seemed to understand his outburst. The scratching of quills resumed rather quickly.

I must not conspire against the Ministry...
I must not conspire against the Ministry...

"Agh." George heard it clearly this time, without straining. Fred winced and George saw him screw up his eyes. Fred's hand was bleeding almost twice as much as George's was, and was clearly hurting him twice as much. George, not wanting to cause Fred any more pain by looking up, laid his foot on the back of his chair quietly. Fred relaxed slightly, feeling the tip of George's toes skim his back. "It's gonna be ok, Freddie. We got this." Fred barely nodded. Unfortunately, Umbridge saw. "Please put your leg down, Mr Weasley, before I give everyone yet another hour." She said, in her sickly sweet, high-pitched voice. George glared at her, and put his head down. He didn't write a single word. Instead, he just moved his quill back and forth, away from the page, and listened. It took another two minutes before Fred made another sound. It was a small whimper. "Mr Weasley, could you come up here please?" Fred stood. George heard Ron's chair move as well, then again when he realised she meant Fred. Nearly everyone watched as Fred walked slowly up to the chair Umbridge was sat in, trying to put on a brave face. "Your hand, Mr Weasley." Fred held out his left hand. A couple of people gasped, George included. It was practically drenched in blood. Umbridge softly took it in her hands and Fred failed to conceal a wince. "Aw. Pity you still have another three hours to do." She then ran her stubby fingers over the back of Fred's hand. "AGH!" Fred yelled, biting down on his bottom lip and attempted to yank his hand away, to no avail. George stood up, but sat down again at the look on Umbridge's face. She'd cause pain if George caused trouble. She pressed her thumb on top of the words cut into Fred's hand. Fred shouted out again, and George saw him trying desperately to pull his hand away. Umbridge had a vice-like grip on his hand, though, so this wasn't possible. "Let go of me!" Fred said, his voice shaking madly. George looked round at Ron. He was shaking with anger, his ears bright red. George, too, was furious, but he didn't dare say a word, lest Umbridge cause Fred still more pain. He caught Ron's eye and shook his head. Ron gave him a look that said 'have you seen what she's doing to Fred?!' George only nodded and gave him a pointed look. 'Don't do anything.' Umbridge threw Fred's hand away from her, and he cradled it. "Sit down. Keep writing." She said, all sweetness gone. Fred walked slowly back over to his seat. George could tell, by the look on his face, he was trying extremely hard not to cry. "It's ok, Freddie. We can do this." George said, as Fred caught his eye. The twins both looked back down at their parchment, and picked up their quills.