Two Halves to a Hole

My name is Fred. And now Fred is free.

George's mouth opened wide to shout, but Harry pulled him backwards with all his strength. Within a moment, they were sprawled on the bedroom floor in the Black's spare bedroom.

"George--George! Listen to me--we have to tell Dumbledore! The Order has to know! We have to tell him where Fred is!"

"No!" George writhed away from Harry until he was sitting up, perched on his toes. "He's right there with Ginny and mum! Right there, Harry!" Fumbling for his wand and panting, George resembled a raging mad man.

I'm free because I have no boundaries.

Harry lunged for George, scrabbling with his cloak and yanking him back from the fireplace. "Stop it, George--you're only going to make it worse! If Fred thinks he's being threatened, who knows what he'll do? If he hasn't hurt anyone yet, there's a pretty good chance he won't--don't you see that? We need to tell Dumble--"

"That's my bloody family! Why is he at The Burrow anyway--argh!" George pushed Harry backwards and stumbled to get to his feet. "It's different when it's them! Fred can hurt me all he likes, but I won't let him get near Ginny an' mum. I can't believe he's pulling them into this--why is he--"

"Expelliarmus!" As Harry shouted, George's wand went whizzing out from his grasp and landed across the room. Even though Harry was lying on the ground, he had pulled out his wand from his jeans and was now angling it dangerously up towards the frantic twin.

When you have no boundaries, there's no time to think.

"George--don't make me stun you," he breathed. "I care about your family almost as much as you do, okay? But rushing headlong through that fireplace is going to make The Burrow a really dangerous place. I don't know why Fred's gone home, but if we go in there, wands swinging, someone is gonna get hurt. Fred is dangerous! And he definitely does not want to be rescued by us--he proved that when he blasted out of the basement. But now that we know where he's gone, Dumbledore has a much better chance of catching him then us. We need to move!"

George's eyes flashed; to be leaving his family so vulnerable made him feel furiously helpless. "Right--'cause he's done such a bloody fantastic job so far."

Harry chose not to comment, only regarding the twin impassively. "Come on. Let's go."

Of course, it's not like I did much thinking before I received the power anyway...

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Harry sprinted down the hallway, George close behind. He reached for the door handle to the library he knew Hermione, Ron, and Dumbledore were occupying. The door gave easily and he and the twin fell inside the dimly lit room. Ron was standing on a high stepladder, in the middle of handing down a book to a surprised looking Hermione. Dumbledore's eyes regarded the intruders from above a large tome he had perched in his lap.

"Fred's at The Burrow," Harry announced, breaking the heavy silence in a rushed voice. "We saw him in the background. The Weasley's don't know he's got the Mark."

He gave me the power before even I knew what was best for me.

"What?!" Ron exclaimed, nearly tipping off the ladder as he turned to gawk.

"Oh my gosh..." Hermione's eyes grew distant, as though she were imagining the possible havoc Fred could be wreaking as they spoke.

"Dumbledore--we need to act now. Gather up some of the Order, and let's go get him," said George.

Dumbledore stroked his beard and focused his attention on the twin. George felt uncomfortable under the inquiring gaze but he didn't look away. Finally, Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke: "Mr. Weasley, I'm a little surprised that you're this ready to turn your brother over to the Ministry this quickly. Are you really prepared to let Fred to face injuries, a sentence in Azkaban, or possibly death?" he asked.

George's mouth twisted into an unpleasant scowl. "No, I am not prepared to do that--but Fred needs to be stopped long enough for us to figure out what's wrong. And I cannot let You Know Who lay a hand on the rest of my family. That's what I'm not prepared to do." George's voice dimmed, the vehemence in his tone thickening: "I will never let anyone hurt Fred. Ever." The forcefulness of his words surprised even himself.

The following silence was substantial, but Dumbledore eventually nodded in reply. "Brotherhood is the tightest bond in a time of war," he said, standing. "I'll let Miss Granger here fill you in while I go make some preparations." He winked at Hermione before apparating away with a familiar bang.

It swells inside. There's no other way to describe it. It pulsates against your skin from deep within your gooey, wet insides. There's just no way you can't release it when He asks. And when you do, every atom of your being vibrates with pleasure. It's no wonder they flocked to Him. No wonder they were drawn to him like dragons to the open sky.

George's words had sounded more like a challenge to Hermione, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she opened up a book and pointed to a few columns of murky text.

"Professor Dumbledore showed me something pretty amazing while you two were gone..." she shook her head. "It's incredible... all the research I did beforehand and I never found anything this hopeful... We should have gone to him immediately."

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"Okay... it's sort of difficult to explain... but I'll try." She looked at each of the three boys in turn, making sure she had their attention. "Dumbledore's books describe how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named created Death Eaters when he first came to power. As far as I can tell, there are three ways for Him to control wizards." She turned over a heavy page. "The first way, obviously, is when the wizards are ready and willing all by themselves. That's how he gets most of his followers."

"Like the Malfoys," Ron muttered.

"Right. Another way is mind-controlling a wizard into doing his bidding...according to this, it's the hardest way for him to maintain power, so it's used least of all." She leaned towards the book, nose wrinkled. "A possible victim of this was Barty Crouch's son."

"It reminds me of what happened to Ginny a few years back, with Tom Riddle," Harry murmured, remembering her fearful face as she accounted for black-outs and gaps in her memory.

"Exactly--but the third way was what Dumbledore really wanted to show me," Hermione said in a louder voice. "The third kind of control You Know Who uses is actually a curse called the Pensieve Personum." Now she started to read directly from the moldy pages. "The Pensieve Personum is a level one curse which does not hinder the subject physically in any way. The curse is purely a mental trap designed for control." She stopped, so engrossed in what she was reading that George was ready to rip the book from her hands.

"What does it say?" he asked, barely able to control his temper. All he could think about was Fred squeezing Ginny's small shoulders.

"Oh..." she answered, slowly. "It works on the theory of a pensieve... Voldemort chooses a subject, and with this curse he's able to rearrange their thoughts."

I'll be honest--I've never felt this way before. And before, I thought I could do anything I could dream up. But I was wrong. I was in my own way.

"Come again?" asked Ron, looking skeptical.

"If the person has any thoughts that appeal to You-Know-Who in any way, Voldemort is able to "pull out" these thoughts to the surface, so that all the other factions of that person's brain are dimmed." She grasped for the right words. "It works like a colander--if Fred had any part in him that actually sympathized with You-Know-Who, then this curse would bring that and only that part to the surface of his mind. The part of Fred that advocated Voldemort would be the only "voice" in Fred's head...it would consume him."

"So...that would explain why it took us so long to realize something was wrong with Fred," wondered Harry out loud. "Because he acts like himself--and he is himself...but just one part of himself?"

Hermione nodded her approval. "Its like one piece in a puzzle taking over, throwing all the other pieces aside, and declaring itself completed."

Harry felt enthused hearing this news; a new hope had blossomed in his chest. If there was a curse, then that meant there had to be a counter-curse. George remained unreadable throughout, but Ron was clearly not happy.

"Wait. So, you're saying that for the Pensieve Personum thingy to work, a part of Fred already had to be evil?" asked Ron.

"No--not evil," answered Hermione briskly. "Anyone who knew Fred knows he was not a fan of Voldemort. But..."

She didn't want to say it out loud, but everyone was already thinking about George's recent outburst in front of Dumbledore. If what George had said was true, then Fred did have some doubts in the Ministry. Could he've been curious enough about You-Know-Who to make him eligible for the curse? George felt ill for even putting those ideas in their heads.

Ron stared at George and then back at Hermione. "Well I for one vote mind control," he declared brazenly. "I still stand by Fred, and I know he didn't have a You Know Who-loving thought in his head."

Hermione looked frustrated. "Look Ron, this is difficult for us all, but we have to be realistic! This is Voldemort's favorite way to create Death Eaters--it's easier then mind control, but they tend to be more loyal then the free-spirited one's." She huffed, "Obviously, I am not an authority on a subject I've had twenty minutes to study up on, but if this is what Dumbledore assumes Fred's problem is, we probably should too."

George spoke up after minutes upon minutes of silence: "So... there's a solution?" His voice was small and scratchy.

Hermione nodded. "Even with our luck, yes. Or I assume that's what it is--this book gives an extensive description of a counter-spell. Of course, I'm not even sure if it's a full reversal." She shook her bushy head slowly. "All I know for sure is that it's not easy. In fact, I already know I'm not going to be able to perform it without Professor Dumbledore guiding me every step of the way."

He took the voice out--the voice that tells you "no" or "wait" or "it's wrong." Imagine life without that persistent, whining voice. Imagine a life with no boundaries. Ever.

Hermione's words were not very uplifting, but Harry still felt the weight of despair lift slowly off his chest. Now they had a mission, and The Boy Who Lived could work with a mission. "What do we need to do?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure you're going to have to find Fred and subdue him. I mean, I haven't read up on the whole spell... I'm going to need more time, but it's not like we can really wait."

"Why not?" asked Ron. "No, wait, don't answer that. I really don't want to know."

Hermione sighed. "It's a deteriorating curse. The longer Fred it under its control, the less likely we'll have of putting all of his "pieces" back together. That's another reason Voldemort fancies the spell so much."

"That's bloody great," murmured Harry. He looked around the room at his exhausted ensemble of underage wizards. "So... we should go to The Burrow, then?"

"No way. Wait for Dumbledore to get back," commanded Hermione firmly.

"We're running out of time," said George. His face was still unreadable.

"Just wait." Hermione said, putting down the book and folding her arms.

"You know--this is sodding daft, this is what this is," George snapped, his eyes now blazing up with something that resembled hurt. He violently opened the glass doors to the room's balcony and let them slam closed behind him.

With every passing day, more and more of those silenced "why's?" are being replaced with a resounding "why not?"

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George leaned forward, his forehead brushing the balcony's cool railing. He tucked his auburn hair behind his ears and looked up into the early morning sky. The premature sunlight had interrupted the misty grey clouds with streaks of burnt orange. George was so tired he could feel his body commanding him to relax; commanding him to let the balcony's damp floor be his momentary resting place. But George would not lie down. He just crouched, head leaning on the rail, with bursts of color greeting him whenever he closed his eyes. Yawning, he tried to focus. It had been weeks since he had gotten a decent nights sleep, what with worrying over Fred's numerous disappearances. And he hadn't slept a night since they had discovered that Fred was a Death Eater. The last time you took a kip, you ended up being thrown into a bookshelf, he reminded himself.

The power crashed down on me and my back arches to answer its demands. I am son to the Infinity of Possibility.

So what was that? Going on forty-eight hours without more then an hour of shut eye? It feels more like forty-eight days, he thought upon realizing all of this drama had occurred in just over two nights. Two days of knowing Fred was completely cut off from him, and already George was losing his marbles. Pathetic, he thought, trying his best to shove back down the painful memories. He had to remain strong. Of course, this was easier said then done. Sliding down into a sitting position, George felt his face start to burn. It was so hard, being alone. It was devastating not having Fred there to ask him what was wrong, to make him laugh. The trio were all kind hearted, but the closeness he yearned for so desperately could only be found in one individual. Just one. Where's Fred when I need him the most? George thought suddenly, causing himself to chuckle dryly at the absurdity of the question. Then his head nodded, and with his chin resting on his chest, George's eyes closed.

He was up in the sky. Here in the sky, the streaks of light were still apparent on the murky clouds. Morning was breaking, but George didn't care.

"That was bloody brilliant!" he heard Fred say, and George turned to see his twin behind the steering wheel of their dads enchanted muggle car. He was laughing, his eyes glittering and wet in the terrible wind. George heard himself agree.

"Yea, but we need to get home before daybreak or mum'll definitely find out."

"Yea, yea. So, do you think that one muggle saw us?" Fred turned to his twin and winked.

"The one who screamed and pointed up into the sky at us? That muggle? Nah."

Fred snorted and reached over to pop his twin in the back of the head. George had flailed about in response, both of them cracking up until they had reached coughing fits. George finally stopped and sat back, watching his brother lazily, feeling the sun's early warmth and--

"George! Hey, George! Dumbledore's back," Ron interrupted, shaking his older brother's arm.

George jerked up, pulling himself to a shaky standing position. "Wha--oh, yea. Yea, ok." He felt his euphoria melt away as the rest of the remnants of the dream dissipated. He stumbled back inside of the room, seeing the rest of the trio, Dumbledore, and Severus Snape regarding him stonily.

My master loves me. That's what they never tell you. They don't want you to know what his love tastes like. What the power tastes like. To be in His favor is better then living. That's what they never tell you. They can't--they'd lose us all.

"Er..." George muttered, glancing at the clock. He had only been outside for fifteen minutes. So what is Snape doing here?

The Slytherin's heavy-lidded glare of impatience had not changed a bit. His dense black cloak was a normal sight as well, but he looked more disheveled then usual. His overall appearance was a little rougher around the edges then any of the young wizards were used to, but considering that he had pulled from his chambers so early in the morning, it was understandable. When he got his first glimpse of the twin, George could see his expression slip monetarily from annoyance to dark interest. George loathed to be looked at in that manner by Snape, and his return glare told the Potions Professor that much.

"I have asked Severus here to assist us," Dumbledore said, answering the twin's initial question. "I've already filled him in on matters, so we can begin immediately."

"What is your plan, Professor?" Harry asked solemnly.

"Has Miss Granger filled you in on what curse I suspect Voldemort is using on Mr. Weasley?" Everyone nodded. "Well then, you know that I must stay here with Miss Granger to complete the counter-curse." He motioned towards Snape. "This is why I went to retrieve Severus. He'll be going with the rest of you to subdue Fred Weasley."

"Excuse me?" asked George, dumbfounded. "Professor--no offense, but I know that you're not thinking of leaving my family's safety in the hands of three teenage wizards and an ex Death Eater!"

So even with this freedom, I clamber when he calls.

Dumbledore folded his hands over his beard with a stern look on his face. "Mr. Weasley, you came to me for my help, and now you're just going to have to trust me. I would never intentionally let any harm befall your family. I have looked at our situation from many angles, and this seems to be the least messy solution."

"You mean for the Order!" yelled George, losing the last snippet of his level-headedness.

"Don't you dare speak to the Headmaster that way," hissed Snape, eyes flashing. "You owe everything to the Order. We can't have the Ministry on our tails this soon after they've realized The Dark Lord truly has returned. Your family has ties to the Order that would--" He stopped short when Dumbledore raised his hand. The Headmaster tilted his head towards George, his bushy eyebrows creased in concern.

"Mr. Weasley, I know that this has been a terribly difficult situation for you. But you need to remember that Severus and I have had the unfortunate business of dealing with several situations very akin to this one," Dumbledore said gently. "It's true that we want to avoid wide-spread panic, but we also know, by experience, that the better concealed our operations are, the better our chances are of succeeding." He nodded. "I have a lot of faith in Harry, as in you. I truly believe we can get your brother back in one piece."

Everything is sweeter...they never tell you that either. I can't stand but to laugh...to tip back by neck and let this power-love radiate in the trembles of my spine so that I can gnash it back down with my sharp teeth.

One piece... George looked away to avoid showing the emotion these words ignited. Finally, he nodded.

"Then why don't you go with us to retrieve Fred and let Professor Snape stay behind to do the reversing spell?" Harry asked Dumbledore. Snape glowered at this second attempt to undermine Dumbledore's authority, but the Headmaster answered before he could say anything about it:

"I am needed here, Harry. Besides, I chose Severus in this situation for his...unique understanding of the predicament." Dumbledore, apparently satisfied with his answer, waved his hands in their direction. "Now then, you need to be on your way. We're wasting time and Miss Granger and I have quite a lot of work to do." Hermione nodded when mentioned, standing at attention for her orders.

Snape scowled at Ron, Harry, and George. He didn't seem to be exceedingly thrilled with the situation either. But then again, is he ever? wondered Harry.

If I have eaten death, so be it.

The four of them trudged back to the guest bedroom and Snape started handing out pinches of floo powder. H eyed each of them warily while holding out his long fingers in offering. Harry accepted his pinch, staring at the magical substance with mounting apprehension. He prayed desperately that the Weasley's had not been harmed in the long interim, and blocked out visions of their lifeless bodies from his mind. I don't know if I can live with myself if any one of them is hurt... I'm the one who told George to wait. I just couldn't live with it... but Fred couldn't have... he just wouldn't...

I am son to Him Who Cannot Be Killed.

Ron took his pinch, avoiding eye contact with Snape and shuffling uncomfortably. He knew his best mate would soon be in his prime surroundings, but Ron just couldn't feed into the excitement. His stomach felt queasy and his hands were shaking. And now I've got greasy hook-beak glaring over my shoulder, just bloody great. I just hope mum's okay...nah, she'll be well enough to box my ears for not calling for two nights. An' soon this'll all be over, and Fred'll be back with George...Fred and George--back to normal. We just need to break the damned mind control... As Ron continued on with his inside nattering, George reached out for his own powder. Snape regarded the twin with inquisitive contempt, trying to fathom just how in the world one of the foolish Weasley's had appealed to the Dark Lord. George glared back with equal scorn, his upper lip curling in the process. The Potion's Professor was minutely surprised by the level of animosity radiating from the red-head, and quickly returned to the hearth.

By His love, I will live on.

George felt the grasp on his wand tighten. He was ready--he wasn't sure what for, but was ready as hell for it. He knew that in the next minute, he would be smack in the midst of something frightening. The tension caused by this revelation left a burning sensation running down from his throat to his crotch. He struggled to think clearly in the mist of this trauma, but a part of his mind had already collapsed. He wasn't sure if he could ever force a smile onto his face again. If they're dead... his hand clenched involuntarily on his wand. I won't... I cant... He watched Snape disappear into the flames. Harry followed suit immediately. Ron glanced back at his older brother with a sad smile on his face before he too threw down the floo powder and disappeared. If any of them get hurt... Fred or mum or Ginny... George stepped forward, feeling the heat radiate against his pale skin. He dashed his powder against the flames, commanded to be taken to the Burrow, and felt the beginning suction of the magic take effect. He scanned the room as it faded from view. Then God help them. He closed his eyes. God help The Order.

My name is Fred. And now Fred is free.